#they lit this in a way where i didn't have to edit all the lighting for once

[maxsix]

[bingiessm]

WARNING, LONG POST

Hello, welcome to the Bridgerton Season 3 trailer over-analysis corner. I am bingiessm--a film student that needs an outlet right now and wants to practice some film analysis--and am here to bring forth the FIRE/FLAME/CANDLE motif that was all over this trailer and I feel will be a HUGE motif throughout this season for Penelope and Colin (Polin).

So within the Polin context, let's look at each shot where a flame of a candle or lack thereof could represent their romantic interest in one another--and in particular the understanding/recognition of it.

This show is going all out putting candles EVERYWHERE--yes it was actual lighting in regency era, but you don't have to have it in the shot. That is a CHOICE. Also a choice to have it lit or not.

Also, "I burn for you" anyone?

FIRST SHOT: somewhat obvious but considering the context of both the mirror as well as other future shots within this trailer, this flame represents the feelings Penelope has for Colin, that she is well aware of and has held for a long while.

I also just have an inkling that she is seeing herself differently in this moment (feeling something for the first time possibly)--the way Nicola looks feels shocked/contemplative, but not scared as if it might be Whistledown-related.

SECOND SHOT: they are outside, talking about Penelope being a "lost cause." WHY IS THERE AN UNLIT CANDLE IN A MARKET STALL, if not to represent some unrealized feelings on Colin's part? It is also on his side of the frame. This is similar to this next one, both of which I believe are earlier in the season, as this is the start of him "helping" her.

THIRD SHOT: Once again, right there on Colin's side of the frame, YOU DID NOT NEED THIS IN THE FOREGROUND. It was a CHOICE to put a candle there again. They could have not had it, yes the shot would have had less depth and this does give a better sense of the space, placing them in a corner of the room instead of in an open space--but they didn't need to make it another CANDLE.

Colin has not fully recognized his feelings for Penelope yet, though they have always been there, and these two shots demonstrate that lack of understanding/feeling, but one that is soon to come with an unlit candle.

FOURTH SHOT: this, in the timing of the trailer, does come before the third, but RIGHT THERE IS A MIRROR AND CANDLES. It is on Penelope's side of the frame, but Colin, the mirror, and candles are what is in focus. She might be center frame, but we are drawn to the light as well as the contrast in Colin's outfit. This could arguably be Penelope's perspective, her burning feelings as he compliments her--also her future (we all want that mirror scene).

FIFTH SHOT: a HUGE TURNING POINT--a small flame, barely noticeable suddenly burning brighter as we focus on Colin in the background. This is so clearly him realizing his feelings for Penelope. It is also at the midpoint/turning point of the trailer when there is a big tonal shift. There is no more talk of Colin helping Penelope, but a larger focus on his perspective of her (all the gazing), the idea of romance, as well as mention of Debling--his rival. It will be a turning point for Colin when Debling--an actual suitor vying for Penelope's hand--comes into the picture. EDIT: Also going to add in, the candle is in a lantern--though that might have been easier to manage filming-wise--which could also represent him still holding back, especially with Debling in the picture.

SIXTH SHOT: This comes right after we hear Debling say "You look especially beautiful tonight, Miss Featherington." One of the many examples of Colin staring at the two of them, being jealous/worried. But right behind him? Oh, more candles. That they totally didn't need to have in the frame. Also, it doesn't look so much like a candle, but they are placed so close to one another that it looks like more of a flame. The lack of focus adds to this.

THEN WE GET TO THIS FINAL SEQUENCE--which imo is a FANTASY SEQUENCE

SEVENTH SHOT: Colin is coming from the darkness, with an unseen flame flickering directly behind him (small ember that he can't see).

EIGHTH SHOT: Penelope, also coming out of the dark, but with another flame on (what in this sequence is) her side of the frame. Though it is somewhat hidden behind these bars--some rough patches/guarded emotions? (probably depends on what point this is in the series).

NINTH SHOT: Penelope, already in the light of these fires, Colin entering with the large burning flame in the background covered by some growth.

TENTH SHOT: Penelope, lit by these fires, breathing heavily. A very clear close-up with so much blur to focus just on her face.

ELEVENTH SHOT: Colin, with a flickering/burning flame literally right behind him, lit by these other fires, staring right at Penelope.

So this whole sequence, in my opinion, is a dream sequence. But, in terms of this flame representation, this is Colin realizing he has feelings for Penelope. We see the flickering from the unseen light behind him in the seventh shot build and become the flame right behind him in the eleventh. It feels so obviously representative of the season. (The fog also seems to lift for him in this sequence, he comes out of the fog to Penelope--I could say more about this sequence and why I do think it is Colin's dream, mostly due to costuming and lighting and the fog as well) ______________________

And thus comes to a close my analysis/evidence of the FLAME/FIRE motif between Polin. I am cutting myself off here because this is a lot and I have an actual film shoot to plan. Thank you if you actually read all this. I love film analysis and Bridgerton is so fun and a stress reliever for me, so this was fun for me to write out.

Anyway, if any more of this fire/flame stuff comes up I might add on later.

TLDR: they are using fire and candles to represent the burning love between these two.

[void-detective]

Impending Doom

((GIF NOT MINE!! Dividers made by cafekitsune))

Authors note: There's no fics for this man so I took it upon myself to do a service. This is my first reader x story 😭 I'm sorry if it's a little awkward!

Warnings: teasing, slightly suggestive(?, and simping

Word count: 1,229

Edited 4/23/24: Part two here!

Summary: With your soft spot for dominant heels in the industry, it only seemed inevitable that he would eventually get to you. Although nervous at first your friend helps encourage you to approach the Intercontinental champion, hopefully it goes well.

Day 639 of Gunther's Intercontinental Championship run

You always had a soft spot for heel wrestlers, whether it be Miz or someone like Pete Dunne. You always enjoyed loving the bad guys over the good guys when I came to wrestling. So you really shouldn't have been surprised when you ended up liking Gunther, right? No one matched the pure strength and dominance of the when it came to being a force to be wreckin with.

You were seated with Rollins backstage to watch a match between Jey Uso and Gunther for his Intercontinental Championship. You had a hunch on who was probably going to win even if you knew everyone adored the Main Event, Jey Uso. You leaned back in the seat watching Jey finish up his entrance and peered over at Seth who was leaned back holding his own championship close on his lap while watching.

As soon as the lights went out in the area and you heard the first few notes of Symphony No. 9, you were inching closer to the edge of your chair. You ignored the look Seth gave you as you watched Gunther walk out in front of the titantron, lifting his head at the cue of music as the Imperium graphics lit up the screen. With his hands folded behind his back and the gold secured around his waist, Gunther walked down towards the ring.

He stepped up the stairs and made his way to the apron where he wiped his feet back and forth before going under the ropes. Once in the ring, Gunther raised the championship before looking at Jey across the ring with a smirk. He walked across the ring holding the title towards his face and turned to hand it off to the referee with a bit of a scowl.

Each chop delivered across Jey’s chest sent an echo through the arena and you found yourself sitting at the edge of your seat as Gunther picked him up. With a slam into the middle of the ring, Jey was sent down from the powerbomb before the champion went in and pinned him.

The three count ended as Gunther retained and released a breath you didn't realize you were holding as you relaxed your shoulders. You heard Seth chuckle and looked over your shoulder at him as you raised a brow.

“I never seen you so tense over a match Y/N.” Rollins chuckled in amusement as he leaned forward and raised a brow at you in question. “So it's Gunther now? I guess I'm not surprised.” The architect snorted when you scowled at him and waved at you in a dismissive way.

“Have you ever spoken to the guy?” You leaned back in your seat to look more directly at Seth as you tilted your head curiously. You knew he had previously spoken to Gunther in a promo while injured but that was as much as you saw.

“Outside the ring? Nah, but I heard he's a pretty chill guy behind the scenes though. I'd still be careful though, the rest of the Imperium followed him everywhere.” The champion added with a frown as he propped his leg over the other with the hurt one on top. His face showed mostly amusement and curiosity as he watched you stand up.

“Thanks Seth, I'll be careful.” You nodded in agreement as you patted your friend's shoulder as you moved further backstage. You moved past other superstars as you glanced at the people standing around the hallway.

You kept searching till you recognized the black ring attire of the two main Imperium members, along with the large figure of Gunther. You bit your lip feeling your nerves wrecking up all the sudden as you took a deep breath and approached the stable slowly, trying to appear as friendly as possible.

Ludwig immediately took notice of you and raised a judgemental brow as he moved in front of Gunther along with Giovanni stepping to his side with a stiff looking glare. “Can we..help you lass?” Kaiser questioned with a suspicious tone as he folded his arms behind his back.

“Uh, yeah I was wondering if I could talk to Gunther?” You whispered trying to not sound intimidated considering most of them were a lot taller than you. Your brows furrowed in betrayal of your attempt to appear collected as you curled your fingers in your jacket out of habit. You felt like your heart might as well beat out your chest and you might die on the spot but you tried to retain a calm and confident look.

The pair exchanged a look as Kaiser raised an eyebrow before peering over their shoulder at the leader of Imperium. Gunther was removing the tape from his wrist and only gave you half a glance over his shoulder before simply nodding. The other two members moved aside, giving you accusing looks as you slowed inched past towards the Intercontinental champion.

You swallowed hard and stopped just a few feet from him looking up at him as you smiled folding your hands in front of yourself. Please don't let me look like a nervous wreck. You thought to yourself as the Ring General turned to look at you with an unreadable expression crossing his features.

“How can I help you Y/N?” Gunther frowned as he rubbed his face with a towel so he wasn't sweating as much as he looked back at you, not giving much of an expression like the other two had.

“Oh uh, I just wanted to say I thought you were an amazing heel and that you really deserve to be the longest reigning champ. I really admire your work and I uh..I've been watching a lot of your matches as of late.” You chuckled before feeling your cheeks heat up noticing you basically gushed and rambled to him and looked down at the floor as you fidgeted with the jacket.

God damnit.

Gunther only chuckled in an amused way as he smirked and raised a brow seemingly getting a boost in his ego and both prided being praised so openly. His arms now folded over his chest as he seemed to almost size you up only making you feel smaller.

“Really? I'm not used to getting compliments from female superstars but I appreciate the admiration.” He couldn't hide the pure amusement in his tone as he furrowed his brow leaning down slightly to your height. Maybe he could take advantage of the opportunity just to mess with you, your reactions only fueled his amusement anyway.

“But I'd be careful.” His austrian accent became more noticeable in his low, almost dangerous tone. His eyes glimmering in a condescending and mocking way as he stared you down even at this height now. “Running around getting involved with me might just get you..in trouble.” Gunther muttered and let out a small chuckle at the way your cheeks burned brighter.

Giovanni and Kaiser came into view at either side of Gunther while the General watched you like a predator about to take down prey. The other two men smirked too as they exchanged a knowing glance then looked back at the leader of the stable. The last words of the bigger male wrestler left a shiver up your spine when he spoke again in a low tone.

“I would hate to break something so fragile.”

[maopll]

Could I request something like this https://www.tumblr.com/maopll/712602219674058752/hello-hello-may-i-request-zhongli-kaeya-ayato?source=share

but with Kaveh, Itto, Childe, and Thoma?

My muse | genshin edition !

#pt.1 here || pt.2 !

⌗:, where you draw your lover in a sketchbook only for him to soon find out the peculiar way you show your love and adoration for him ♡

⌗:, a/n: what if I draw them in jojo poses ?...

⌗:, warning: there are gingers and blondes and bullchucker. there's mention of blood in childe's part.

⌗:, pairings: kaveh, itto, childe & thoma w/ gn!reader

KAVEH —

It was a warm Sunday evening. The afternoon glow of the sun illuminated the room. You and your lover, Kaveh, are basking in the quiet comfort of eachother. On the sofa, you sat crossing your feet and sketching countless pictures of what or of who. Your lover sat on the other side, making minute and very careful details of splendid architectural designs. You noticed the way his face would scrunch up when he would make those little designs on the railing or even on the roof. The way he would do a soft 'yes!' When he got something right on his first try. You recorded down every single detail on the small sketchbook of yours. When you would feel his gaze upon you, you would be quick while closing the book lest he sees what you made.

However, on his birthday you decided to gift him the sketchbook. He was dumbfounded and asked why you would give him something you were using. Until he flipped the pages and marvelled at the beautiful drawings you made of him. for him. It was simple yet so meaningful to him. His eyes filled with tears with how pure and sweet your love for him was. You were his everything, a beacon of light in his world.

ITTO —

Having you as his s/o was like winning the lottery. There wasn't a single moment that he didn't enjoy when he was with you. Whenever he would be playing onikabuto fights with the kids in hanamizaka, you would shelter yourself under a tree and sketch away the little doodle of your lover. Capturing each and every little detail of his face. The way he would scrunch up his nose when he would be thinking of his next move or the utter look of shock on his face when he would lose for the nth time...

Nevertheless, you find this hobby to be quite comforting. The sun was already starting to set, and the kids had returned home. Your lover hadn't won a single round, but he doesn't care much about it. As soon as they were gone, he went up to you screaming, "Hey babe!" only to find that you have fallen asleep. It's alright he's strong enough to carry his lover on his back, but he was in for a little surprise. When he picked you up in his arms, he saw the sketches, doodles of his and his...abs? although he has minimum knowledge about art and anatomy, he was still surprised seeing someone looking very similar to him and his name on YOUR notebooks. Ofcourse your one and only oni should be the one to grace the pages of your sketchbook! and also to grace your soft lips!

CHILDE —

Bloodshed, Bloodlust, Bloodthirst. That's all he knew all his life. He barely found respite, but with your coming into his life, things started to get a lot better, and he found happiness with you.

Your lover, childe, has gone out once again to take care of some "business." Apparently, he has loads of things to take care of, so today was another one of those sleepless and quite cold nights in Snezhnaya where you yearn for your lovers warmth but unfortunately he cannot be there. The candle was lit by your bedside table. You used the faint glow it provided to draw on your sketchbook. After all, you needed something to help you sleep, and this was the best thing you could do now. It was 3 p.m. now. Childe entered through the front door into your shared home. He tiptoed softly and carefully to not wake you up since it was an odd time to be awake. He stepped foot into your room and smiled, seeing you fast asleep. It was quite cold, and your blanket wasn't on top of you. While pulling the covers over you, he saw him drawn on your sketchbook. He looked at the drawings and he felt butterflies in his stomach. A faint shade of pink was dusting his face and a small smile graced his lips. "ajax?...you're home?" you spoke in a drowsy tone. He smiled and said "I'm home" while removing the sketchbook from you and setting it aside. Although the room was quite dark, you swear you saw a faint glimmer in his eyes...

THOMA —

He runs back and forth around the house from morning to evening. As expected, he grows tired by the end of the day, even if he tries napping during his breaks. You, however, seize this opportunity to admire his angelic features more closely since he is static in one place. At least for some time...

The Kamisato Estate was obviously busy with him conducting some classes about housework and dealing with the housework of the estate. Finally it was four o'clock in the afternoon and he had finally got his much needed rest. While he dozed off on your lap, taking in the comfortable warmth, you were busy sketching away on your sketchbook. His eyes, his sleepy face, his ruffled hair, his parted lips. Not a single detail would you miss. When his rest was finally over, he got up, but you had fallen asleep. It's understandable since you also work around the house with him a lot. When he tried getting up, the book fell from your hand. Whilst trying to pick up the book, he saw his sketches on your book. He was amazed and embarrassed since he was drawn so intricately on such a small piece of paper. A soft hue of pink bloomed across his face. He turned his body towards you and gently caressed your face. He kissed your temple and whispered "sleep well dear.."

[imtrashraccoon]

Not sure if I'm fully happy with this one but I no longer have the energy to edit it anymore. Meh, Dust is basically how I pictured him. I should mention I really like the way @snowcoffeee writes him so there will probably be some similarities as I've never written him before now.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, and Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Dust - Boxed In

Word Count: 2,923

You couldn't shake the feeling of being watched lately. Whenever you were out and about, whether that was running errands or traveling to and from work, you felt like some sort of spectre was staring at you.

It was incredibly unnerving and your head felt like it was constantly on a swivel nowadays. Every time you swore you saw something move out of the corner of your eye it was either nothing or the wind blowing an piece of trash around.

So why were you so paranoid?

Why did it feel like something was secretly stalking you?

Why you?

There weren't many people out today, which you normally didn't mind, but you'd come to hate the quiet. Being friends with Axe had made you realize how lonely you really were and as such, you'd started to crave human, or in this case, monster contact. Being alone felt unbearable all of the sudden and you didn't know what to do to remedy this feeling.

You couldn't bring yourself to reach out to old classmates, not after how well you knew many of them had succeeded in life in comparison to you. You certainly weren't going to try and reestablish contact with your sister or any of your other family members either, not after how little they cared about you back when you were still talking to them.

The obvious solution was to make new friends but you didn't know where to start. Your coworkers were all either way older than you and from completely different backgrounds or not exactly nice people in general. You weren't one to go to clubs or bars to hang out and get drunk either, especially by yourself as a woman. So where else does a young adult go to meet new people? Unfortunately, you were still looking for an answer to that question.

You were on your way back home from the library after returning and borrowing some new books, when you passed a dimly lit alleyway. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a figure leaning against one of the brick walls with their hood pulled up. You could smell the lingering stench of cigarette smoke and immediately decided to keep walking so as to not draw unwanted attention to yourself.

You had only walked ahead a couple of feet further when you heard someone else's footsteps behind you.

Your heartrate quickened and you clutched the straps of your bag tighter. You didn't want to assume it was the person from the alleyway but who else could it be?

Before you could turn around to see who was following so closely, they grabbed your right arm and abruptly shoved you up against the building.

You gasped in surprise as the rough texture of the brick cut into your back.

The man from the alleyway was holding you tightly by your upper arms. Despite only being maybe two inches taller, he was practically leering over your smaller form.

He seemed to be a skeleton and two red eyelights glared back at you from beneath his hood, although the left one had an additional ring of light blue magic that somehow made this moment even more unsettling. His clothes actually reminded you of the ones Axe usually wore, except this skeleton wore white gloves as well. Unlike your friend though, his build was more similar to your own, but he'd still be larger than you if he had flesh covering his bones.

Did they know each other? Was it racist to wonder if all skeletons knew each other? Should you even be asking yourself questions right now?

It felt like the hostile skeleton was staring into your soul and to your shame, you froze up for the second time in a potentially life-threatening situation this year. To be fair, you were under the impression you couldn't even hurt him, at least according to what you'd been told by Axe anyways.

After staring at you for what felt like an eternity, he scoffed. "there's nothing special about you," he spat.

That simple statement was enough to fill you with immense dread. The monster in front of you basically screamed insane and you were immediately hit with two realizations.

He'd killed countless people.

And if you didn't do something, anything, you'd be dead in the next few minutes.

"H-how...would you know?" you asked quietly.

He said nothing and continued glowering at you.

So, you tried another approach. "Look buddy, I know a guy and if he found out you were harrassing me like this, he'd have some choice words for you." You were trying to keep your voice firm but without sounding threatening to avoid agitating the skeleton further.

His eye sockets narrowed slightly but he otherwise had no visible reaction. "oh i'm sure you do, but the funny thing is, i don't care..." he growled.

"You should care. He's not pleasant when he's angry and I can't guarantee he'll be content with just giving you a good talking to."

He hummed in an off-handed way although his grip on your arms tightened slightly.

You weren't going down without a fight if he decided to take you somewhere. You knew that one of the big rules to survive a kidnapping was never to let them take you to the second location. If it came down to it, you were going to fight like hell, no matter if you could actually inflict pain on a skeleton or not.

"i deal with a lot of unpleasant people on a daily basis, human." He let out a heavy sigh and his eyelights seemed to burn brighter for a second. "and most of them end up dead if they even think of messing with me," he muttered.

Well that just confirmed what you'd already figured out. Although, you also had another realization all of the sudden.

He seemed...overtired. Maybe you could try to use your Intent on him? Afterall, it had worked to get Axe's attention the few times you'd done so. Now the problem was how to do it without setting him off and getting yourself killed.

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to make eye contact with him. "You know what else is funny?" Without even waiting for a response, you kept talking, "You're not even the first scary skeleton I've met."

"i know." He hadn't even missed a beat to respond and his words sent a chill down your spine. "and i also know you've been manipulating him."

You swallowed thickly and tried to focus on taking even breaths to keep yourself from freaking out more than you were. It seemed that he was really good at shutting down your attempts to de-escalate this moment. Still, you'd learned something else that could potentially prove helpful.

"You know him then?" you asked tentatively.

The corners of his tight permanent smile twitched and his phalanges slightly dug into your arms, even through his gloves and your clothing. To your surprise, he didn't even bother to deny this apparent slip of his theoretical tongue.

"you could say that..." he muttered.

Okay...that was very vague.

"So...I'm gonna go out on a limb here for a sec. Are you concerned about him? Is that why you've decided to confront me today?"

He stared back at you passively but noticeably didn't deny either of your questions.

"Hey, uh...it's cool. Really though, it's not a bad thing to be concerned about friends..."

Well, there you went again; running your mouth while being pinned by a potentially insane murderer. You could tell even he thought you were crazy all of the sudden if the look he gave you was any clue.

"Just...maybe cornering people isn't a good way to go about it...?" You visibly cringed at how high pitched your tone of voice became at the end of your question.

Taking a deep breath, you added, "Look, I can explain everything if you want, but any chance you can...let go a little? You have a really strong grip..."

"you're insane." You bit your lower lip and glanced away at the intensity of his tone but he continued talking. "you get thrown into a wall but rather than try and get away or fight back, you think talking it out will save you? ridiculous..."

"Pot, meet kettle...?"

He seemed completely taken aback and fell silent for a moment while processing what you'd said. He then started to quietly chuckle, but his laughter soon grew louder until he had to hold onto you to keep from falling over. You felt paralyzed with fear and remained silent until he finally calmed down again.

"wow..." he finally managed to say between lingering chuckles. "you're funny..."

"Uh, that's debatable...but thanks?"

Your arms were starting to get sore with the way he was basically hanging off of you. So, you went to grab onto his own arms in an attempt to pull him up slightly to take the added weight off of you.

Apparently, that was a bad move.

The moment you touched him, his skull shot up and he roughly shoved you against the wall again. He was back to leering over you, except this time, he'd planted one of his knees against your leg and was applying pressure so you couldn't try to shove him off.

You immediately let go and dropped your arms to your sides. "Easy, I wasn't trying anything, okay? My arms were just getting sore..." you said, quickly trying to reassure him.

He continued to glare at you and his mismatched eyelights flickered across your face, probably looking for any indication that you were lying. When he seemed to find none, he exhaled slowly but remained holding you down.

"Do you want to go get a coffee or something so we can talk like reasonable adults?" you asked.

His eye sockets narrowed slightly and he seemed to consider your suggestion for a moment. "...fine, but don't try anything, okay?"

You nodded, "I wouldn't dream of it."

He let go of you and stepped back, although keeping hold of your right arm as he did so. It made sense though as you wouldn't trust you either if you were him.

"you've never been to the coffee shop down the block, right?" he asked. His tone of voice was firm, as if he already knew the answer to his question.

You shook your head. "I haven't actually. Did you want to go there?"

"sure, doesn't matter i suppose," he muttered and started to walk in that direction, nearly dragging you along with him.

You had to scramble to catch up but you were soon able to match his pace. You both walked in silence; his hold never loosening on your arm and you finally realizing that your hands were trembling.

"Do you have a name?" you asked in a quiet voice.

He grunted and responded in a gruff tone, "dust."

You couldn't decide if that was a weird name or a really morbid one since you'd heard monsters simply turned to dust when they died. Although, now that you weren't being pinned, you could see that his clothes seemed to have an ashy appearance, which seemed to all but confirm the later.

"I'm sorry, but surely that's not the name your parents gave you, right?"

He glanced at you and shrugged, but made no effort to explain.

You let out a sigh and ran your free hand over your face. "Alright, I'll drop it then." You introduced yourself as well but he only gave you a disinterested grunt in acknowledgement.

By the time you'd each gotten a coffee, yours was a pretty basic one with cream and sugar while his was straight black, you were feeling slightly better. Dust guided you to a table in the corner away from the other patrons and sat down in front of you, so that your back was against the wall. He'd also taken care to sit in such a way so that he had an easy view of the rest of the coffee shop and the entrance.

You held your coffee cup with both hands, savouring the warmth emanating from the hot beverage, and pointedly avoiding eye contact with the creepy skeleton. You didn't know what to say or if you even should say anything and just wait for him to speak first. While this whole situation had been awful, you hadn't felt nearly this anxious during your first meeting with Axe.

"What do you want to know?" you finally just came out and asked.

He was quiet at first and seemed focused on his coffee rather than solely on you. "how'd you meet Axe?"

"Well...funnily enough it wasn't too different from how we met. I was out on a walk in the woods and he was there for whatever reason..." You trailed off for a moment and brought your cup slightly closer to yourself for comfort. "I guess he wasn't doing well that day and he attacked me. I managed to talk him down and we had coffee afterwards."

You felt him scrutinizing you and briefly glanced up to meet his gaze. His expression was unreadable but didn't seem angry at least.

"i see..." he muttered. "well i work with the big guy and he's been acting different lately. like coming to this specific universe a lot and, while he's done his best to hide it, i noticed he's been making extra food for someone else too."

"Yeah, he started sharing his cooking after we became friends. He's a really good cook by the way and I've picked up a couple of great tips too."

Dust hummed in agreement and took a sip of his still steaming hot coffee. You inadvertently winced but he showed no visible reaction if doing so had hurt or not.

"so, how'd you convince him not to kill you?" he asked suddenly. You could feel his mismatched eyelights almost piercing into your very soul with how intently he was now staring at you.

You swallowed nervously and took a deep breath to try and steady your nerves. "I didn't know what I was doing at first but the way he explained it, I used something called Intent? He said it was like I forced all my concern and feelings of reassurance into him too."

He was looking at you like you had grown a second head and the intensity of his gaze made you feel very uncomfortable, like a pit had formed in your stomach.

"no one uses intent like that..." he finally growled.

Throwing up your hands in exasperation, you huffed in annoyance. "Well apparently I do! Would you like a demonstration?!"

He looked slightly taken aback at your outburst and to your surprise, he didn't retort immediately. "not really... i don't exactly trust you, human..." he muttered.

You took a few deep breaths until your frustration seemed to ebb away a little. "I'm sorry...I think the stress is getting to me. I didn't mean to get so upset..."

He shrugged and took another sip of his coffee, apparently completely unbothered. Just then, the little bell at the door rang and his eyelights darted in the direction of the sound when a few young people entered the establishment. When none of them appeared to have noticed the two of you, he heave a sigh of relief.

It struck you that not only did he seem overtired but he'd been acting rather paranoid nearly the entire time you'd been with him. It had been pretty easy to overlook with how terrified you'd been earlier, but now you couldn't help but feel bad for him. He was clearly concerned for his friend and while you were still scared of him, you were also concerned for his wellbeing.

He flinched when your hand touched his gloved one and his eyelights quickly flicked to your own eyes before glancing down at your hand. To your surprise though, He didn't pull away.

"Please, correct me if I'm wrong, but you and Axe are friends, right?" you asked.

He stared back at you passively and shrugged.

You decided to take that as a yes and continued talking. "I mentioned this earlier but I can tell that you're concerned for his wellbeing. He's a great guy and it's good to see he has someone willing to look out for him, even if I don't personally approve of your approach to doing so. He's pretty lucky to have a friend like you."

You had no idea if you were even using Intent right now but you knew that you meant every word you'd said. It was now up to him if he believed you or not.

He stared at your hand in complete silence for a long time. Finally, he slowly looked up and made eye contact again, although he had a bit of a confused expression on his skull. He then took his hand back and wiggled his gloved phalanges.

"huh..." was all he managed to say.

"Sorry, I don't have the hang of it. That didn't hurt or anything, right?" you asked.

"no, i'm fine..." he muttered and shook his skull. He fixed you with a strange look and stood up. "maybe there is something special about you afterall... either way, i still don't trust you, human..."

He turned to leave but left you with one final comment. "i'll be watching you to see if you're really so sincere..." He then walked out of the coffee shop, leaving his empty coffee cup behind on the table.

Yours had long gone cold...

[theconstantsidekick]

no because, supernatural is absolutely a train wreck. it's a colossal accident that is happening in front of you that you can't look away from. it is homophobic and non-sensical and downright laughable at times but you know what? I love it. I absolute love it.

season 1 was absolutely beautiful. you don't understand, really, you don't. they had a piss poor budget, you can see that in every frame. but does that stop it from being fucking beautiful? no. it is stylised and ambitious and a fucking visual treat.

and this is like the first fucking episode. the shots have so much character! and that's nothing to say of the characters themselves. from the first fucking scene you can clearly distinguish sam and dean's character clear as day. their motivations, their dreams, their hopes, all of it. it's established so well. their dynamic is unmatched. does it also have a lot of garbage? yes for sure. because what in the name of hell was that episode with bugs? what glue were they sniffing when they green lit that one? no seriously... I wanna try some.

but then they recovered, cause they did faith. my god, what an episode. WHAT AN EPISODE. that motherfucking reaper haunts my every waking hour

like yeah, I love me some baby dean and baby sam going on their small scale ghost hunts while learning deep lessons about who they are as people and what they want from life.

also that 'laugh I nearly died' needle drop? where sam sees jess? god tier editing, GOD TIER.

then they came back with season 2. and here is my most controversial opinion that should not be controversial at all, season 2 is the best season of supernatural to ever supernatural.

what is and what should never be, hollywood babylon, heart, nightshifter, and the whole fucking season actually. not a single miss in my humble opinion. and that finale? THAT FINALE. beautiful, magnificent. ground breaking character writing, everything comes full circle while simultaneously opening up new plot lines to explore.

and my god, yellow eyes is an epic villain. he is a very viciously written villain like, he's... my god. it ain't a walk in the park writing villains, believe you me patient readers, villains are harder to write than the protagonists, always. well, at least the compelling ones are.

now season 3 suffered because of the writer's strike, but didn't miss much either. like yeah some of the hits don't hit as hard as the season 2, but hey, mystery spot, time is on my side, ghostfacers, bedtime stories are nothing to laugh about. those episodes are fucking solid, like most of the season. and there is so much raw emotion is sam's need to save dean, it just makes my weak winchester brothers loving heart throb a little too hard. also...

need I say more?

does the show did look little more washed out and boring? yes. but it's cool, cause we're moving on to season 4.

listen, I kinda just wanna leave all my season's critique at this. i mean, yeah this. this is it. this is the long and short of it; castiel. i don't think i need to get anymore into it

so season 5 is just—

i'm kidding. obviously i'm gonna talk about season 4, at length.

listen, being able to introduce angels this late in the game and then have them be a such perfectly hidden players is a masterstroke of genius. it just is. i am a writer guys... apart from the relentless fanfic as well lol. and when i tell you, introducing a new big player which is also (not so) secretly the next big bad and playing it off as smoothly as they did in season 4, is beyond hard. but the biggest home run these fuckers hit is castiel and the best part is they weren't aiming for a one lol. and oh oh, the way they use their very VERY limited budget to show wings with just flashing the fucking light? CINEMA! that's fucking cinema right there man. i work on film sets, i am telling you, this is the smartest filmmaking choice they make on the entire show. it adds so much visual intrigue while being so awfully easy to execute. BRILLIANt.

now i cannot talk about supernatural without talking about the deancas romance of it all, which i understand not everyone can see or wants to, which is fine. to each their own. you consume art the way you want to, i don't care much as long as you can acknowledge that castiel and dean's friendship was just some of the best written television that mankind has ever seen. is that too grand a statement? yes. does that make it any less true? no.

they even brought back the moody lighting.

and then there's the episodes this season, most of which are home runs in their own regard. just like beautiful writing, the character development for cas, for dean, for sam, even the late john winchester is wild. anna is a wonderful addition, so is uriel, and alastair? they don't make villains like him anymore, they just fucking don't. AND THAT GODDAMN PLOT TWIST AT THE END? man! the finale was just... too good. Chuck's introduction is absolutely wonderful, even if they ruin him by the end but that happens a decade later so wtv, who cares? But,,,, Jimmy. Fucking. Novak. That's all. that's the tweet. yeah. i'm gonna end the season 4 fan fair with jimmy.

moving to season 5.

subjectively speaking, this is my fucking favorite. this season is a writer's dream while also being their goddamn nightmare. so many WONDERFUL characters to play with and such a grand plot but you get to see it all on a very small, consumable scale which is just... it's too smart for me to not mention. i won't start naming the plot points and neither will i name my favourite episodes because what even is the point? all of it was fucking perfect. you don't understand how hard it is to develop characters to such an extent that they become so familiar to the audience that they know their next move before you even put it on the screen. and supernatural had that. they tied everything together with so much care and consideration, just... AAAH so good.

a special shoutout goes to endverse!cas, crowley and death this season. you all know it in your bones that those three were just the absolute scene stealers. especially death's introduction... immaculate.

they did lose a few points for not being as aesthetically pleasing as the past few seasons but hey, gabriel was enough to make a smooth recovery.

but this... this is the end of the road for me people. season 5 is where it should have ended. in no way shape or form am i saying that there aren't a few good episodes here and there after this, because there are. i think season 5 was so fucking solid, tied up so many goddamn lose ends and then just put a cute little hell shaped bow on top and i just... yeah. this was and should have been the end of the road. do not get me wrong, i love me some jack kline, charlie bradbury, kevin tran, rowena macleod and eileen lahey but were they worth the bullshit ending i had to sit through? not really.

i absolutely think if there weren't more episodes of supernatural I would never have become a destiel fan, because i started shipping them when dean made cas a mixtape in season TWELVE! but my god, the good times were so scattered amongst the horseshit that even when i found those hidden gems, they were so fucking drenched in the stink that they lost their value.

the worst of it all is that, i cannot explain to you what supernatural means to me in a million words, because it is a part of me, heart and soul. i fucking AM castiel. i am a gay little angel you hear me? i love this show. i do. i'm glad it went on for however long it did but i feel like once in a while i need to write shit like this or read shit like this to remind myself of the show that it used to be. of it's beautiful cinematography, of it's clever little storytelling techniques. of it's wonderful cast. of how epic their song choices used to be.

FUcking RENEGADE? iconic. wanted, dead or alive? cannot hear the song without hearing sam's off tune goat bleating that he called singing along.

i need to remind myself of how afraid i used to be of lucifer. of how much i cried while watching dark side of the moon; when dean and sam burst the crackers, and how i learnt the lyrics to knocking on heaven's door just because of that scene.

sometimes i just have to walk through memory lane and look back at gabriel's death, the good one, the only one. it was so fucking meaningful. i have to think of "we are making it up as we go" to be able to breathe properly because those moments were so fucking beautiful.

fuck the big ones, i even remind myself of the small ones, of dean's handwriting being in all caps, just like him. of sam's fucking huge laptop with that weird blue black sticker in the middle. of castiel's tie, that just was the right shade of blue, and hung all wrong but just naturally enough to add so much more to his character than any fucking dialogue could. every small little detail of supernatural that made it so damn supernatural. i miss it all.

idk. i'm rambling. whatever.

[kanmom51]

Gonna just place this here

If the pics of JK 'smoking' wouldn't have been all over the internet, I wouldn't have posted this to start with.

But seeing they are, and seeing that someone might have maliciously tried to cause him damage, I think that is reason enough.

I will start by saying that JK is a fucking adult and is allowed to do what the fuck he wants to as long as it's legal of course. Drink, smoke, have sex with you know who.

It is ok to not like the idea of him smoking.

It is ok to say so.

It's ok to think it's not good for him nor his voice.

But at the end of the day, it's his body, his life, his decision as an adult.

Saying that, this whole thing just might be a big fat lie.

Here you go:

The last one is cropped so hard to tell.

I guess the difference in coloration between the cigarettes was a clue. The lit ends as well, seeing we don't get to see JK taking a drag not even once all the time the camera is on him (enough for the cigarette to become clearly much shorter, as in smoked). Oh, and where's the smoke? We clearly get smoke off the other guy's cigarette, but none form JK's with the big ass lit tip?

Ah, and another weird thing was the way he was holding the cigarette while demonstrating the Seven moves.

Who in the fucking hell holds a cigarette between his middle finger and ring finger?

Also, the whole cigarette looks wrong, including the tip.

And if we are already on that, if the camera was there all that time, how didn't we get a pic of him taking a drag from that cigarette the whole damn time. I mean, if you're out to get him, that would be the kicker pic, no? We get one of the others taking a drag from his cigarette. Where's the pic of JK doing it?

The camera was there the whole time, right? So, we have pics with JK without any cigarette in hand standing alone. Then 3 pics of him with the cigarette. Different looking cigarettes. Who gave him the cigarette? Who lit it for him? How don't we get a pic of any of that?

The other guys are smoking (supposedly). Wouldn't we have had the whole lighting the cigarettes process going on you get with social smoking? The lighter/s, the taking a drag to light the cigi? Again, how was none of that caught on camera?

And I kind of find it interesting how see through the cigarette is too. You can literally see JK's finger through the cigarette. Must be a new kind of brand.

Now, I don't have any fancy photography apps handy right now, but that whole hand looks kind of weird to me.

Also, between the see through cigarette pic and the brown looking cigarette (both photos with JK talking to same man) cigarette looks to be around same size (?) and strangely his grip on the cigarette changes from holding it between his index and middle finger to middle and ring finger. Doing this with a lit cigarette one handed, idk...

Could the photos be real? Maybe?

Maybe they look off because of the quality of the photos? Possibly, I guess. Although bad quality would be true about all the pics. So, for instance, no smoke showing could be due to bad quality if the same couldn't be said about the other's cigarettes.

Could either of the batches of pics be edited? Of course they could.

The cigarettes could have been edited in or out.

It's just that there are so many discrepancies in the cigarette holding pics that I am leaning on thinking they aren't authentic.

End of day conclussions:

Fucking hell!!!

You just cannot believe everything you see now days in the media. Not in photos and not in videos either.

Check, double check, triple check and always stay vigilant and suspicious unless it's from a confirmed and trustworthy source.

As of this one, the jury is out on it.

Oh, and either way, it's his life, his decisions.

[ihearthhj]

if i could go back in time — hwang hyunjin

⇨ chapter one : a loop of fate

⇨ pairing - hyunjin x fem!reader

⇨ word count : 1.4k

a/n -- first chapter !! i swearrr i have longer and better chapters coming ( they will be unscheduled for now, so join the taglist if you want to be tagged for them ty ) 😭😭 this was sort of a crappy "first draft" that i was too lazy to edit.. anyway pls enjoy to the best of your ability

series masterlist | next

is there ever that one memory that your mind can't help but wander to occasionally?

mine constantly played like a broken record in my head, flickering like an undying candle in the crevices of my brain. an unwavering light in the blurry paraphernalia of memories.

i remember that day quite clearly. the day i lost one of the people i loved the most. the day my world came crashing down on me.

every day i throw myself into a whirlwind of grief, blood, and tears subconciously. i was locked in a cinema, forced to watch it over and over again in front of my eyes.

it physically hurt, but it was uncontrollable.

we were in the middle of the road.

drunk at a university party, the alcohol and endorphins in our system were going through the roof. we ended up stumbling outside the house for a breath of fresh air, and we were waltzing in the middle of an empty street.

what a stupid decision.

and i thought it was romantic.

it was, technically speaking — if you were drunk, that is. the dim street lights cast a warm glow over the street, showering our intertwined bodies moving in synchronized steps in a splash of illumination. if someone captured the scene with a camera, with the shadows of two figures dancing on the ground, you’d consider the view sentimental somehow. straight out of a cliché movie scene.

every once a while, through all the movement we'd step away from each other, and i would twirl under his arm with our hands still entwined. then smiles were exchanged when our gazes met, and his beautiful eyes would sparkle. i felt like i could continue on like this forever and not get tired at all.

but he suddenly stopped me and his hands rested on either sides of my waist, prompting me to face him. i stared up in his face, a smile resting on my own. a smile that was reserved for him, and only him.

then he kissed me.

it was slow and passionate. my eyes fluttered closed as he held me in his arms, time slowing down around us as there was no one except us.

and maybe it was the fact that we were drunk. maybe it was because we were so lost in the moment and so focused on love—

maybe it was both.

because we didn't hear the sound of a humming car motor until it was three feet away from us.

he heard it first.

i felt his body stiffen against mine, hands going rigid on my hips. my eyes opened, only to be looking up at a face filled with horror and shock, a strange light that i didn’t know from where it came brightening his side profile. confused, i opened my mouth to speak, but i was abruptly pushed away to the side of the road, my head hitting the cement before i could realize what was happening. my ears picked up on a crash, the deafening screech of brakes.

and a body falling to the cold, hard ground.

the last thing i saw was a familar silhouette through my half-closed eyes and a car just beside them.

then the world went black.

six years later

different people process breakups in different ways.

some people go on with their ordinary lives like it was just a speck of dust on the table. they pick it up, and throw it away.

other people, however, see it as a tablecloth, covering the entirety of the table. then they go get their best friend and cry to them about it. or if they’re unsociable, then they usually go to the club or the bar to cry with the accompaniment of alcohol.

that was you, frankly. unsociable and introverted.

were breakups always this depressing?

the atmosphere of the dimly lit bar was humid and damp. the air smelled of dried sweat and liquor. music sounded around the space, supposed to lift your spirits, but your face as wet with tears.

it was straightforward proof that unpleasant luck had landed upon yourself. your latest acquaintance, a guy named wooyoung you met at a club, was one another addition to the pile of failed relationships.

he was a perfect person, to be direct. he was sweet, bought you gifts, and cooked. a literal angel. not to mention, he was incredibly good in bed.

average boyfriend material, or so you thought.

it happened one night, when he was in the shower. he was over at your place, staying the night. you had hoped that tonight would be what you thought it’d look like.

then everything happened in a blur. a text tone, you getting curious, then accidentally finding out there was someone else.

another girl. it was almost funny how your suspicions were always right.

you confronted wooyoung about it, then he got mad and left after a very heated argument.

all the plans of an actual peaceful future were shattered in that one small moment.

you thought you had finally found someone who you loved, and loved you. someone who you thought could cover up all the pain that was buried deep in your heart, hidden by the bigger worries of your career and life.

thought, thought, thought.

all thoughts, never reality...

the hurt that your mind experienced when you thought of the cause of the pain could not be beared.

you couldn’t remember the last relationship that made you happy, truly happy. the only one that actually did ended devastatedly.

you also couldn’t remember the last time you got drunk like this.

usually you were nowhere near open to big amounts of alcohol.

the last time you’d downed more than five shots consecutively was back in university, at a party. but that was for a different reason than why you were drinking now. it was for fun, purely fun.

and that supposed fun had been cut off disastrously. it ended up in a pool of tears and blood.

but somehow every single thought in your brain always took a turn and led to thinking of it. the day that made your life become a turn of events.

it was a never-ending loop, and your thoughts constantly ran in circles, always leading to the same place. like a song on repeat on a broken cd player that couldn’t be turned off.

you took a swig of your shot glass, swallowing all the thoughts away.

you gestured to the bartender for more. your head felt light, and dizziness was seeping into your system by the second.

looking around the bar, you took in your surroundings. this bar was one of the popular ones in the city, the space larger than most others. the dance floor was bustled with people, but you never participated in the crowd activities, being too unsociable even under the influence of alcohol. you would’ve preferred to stay home and drink, but you forgot to purchase liquor after your last breakup.

the bartender placed another rack of tiny shot glasses on the table, promptly leaving to take another customer’s order. picking up the miniature cup, you stared at the brownish liquid before taking a big swig and finishing the whole thing in one go. your throat burned as you swallowed, but you didn’t care.

it felt good, strangely.

why was everything turning into something bad? something that you were scared of happening?

you felt like everything in life, supposed fate, was cornering you and forcing you to plunge in eternal darkness. the harder you tried to make things better, the worse they became.

fate was what ruined your life and was still ruining it. when would something good actually happen?

you picked up another glass from the rack as another customer sat down in the high seat next to you.

they were two guys, chatting and laughing loudly. you closed your eyes at the headache coming on at all the noise, adding on to the already bustling atmosphere of the club. you should leave soon and suffer your hangover.

“yeah, just back for some business,” one of them said with a laugh.

through the blur and ache in your mind, your eyes shot open. was it just your imagination? the glass of liquor stayed in your grasp as your gaze turned towards the guys.

you swore that you knew that voice, that laugh. it was one that you would never get tired of hearing.

but after what happened years ago, you thought you’d never hear it ever again.

the guy turned towards the bartender standing behind the counter to order his drink. your eyes scanned over his features, and you almost let out a cry.

it was the curve of his nose, the brightness of his eyes, and the pout of his lips that you knew so well. his hair, kept in the same length as it was six years ago, was now pitch black. you swallowed the bile that had risen up in your throat. it couldn’t be him.

hwang hyunjin.

taglist : @hildaortara @203sucks @iovecb97 -> join taglist here

[lady-of-the-silver-lakeatron]

Bridgerton Season 3 Episode 1 Initial Reactions

I didn't get to post these reactions so I'm posting them late as I needed time to edit all my 3am typos (cry) from Thursday.

Bless Francesca for being the funniest lowkey Bridgerton with that piano playing scene.

I swear I paused the Colin glow up reveal scene to analyze everyone's reaction. My top choices are Anthony and Kate and Bennedict.

ABC reunion + Gregory being adorable. I love when they show the sibling interactions.

Backs up, did I just see ASL from a debutant! That is so cool!

Queen Charlotte is having none of these people lmfao

Not Eloise getting dragged by Colin by her fashion choices (peak brother-sister vibes)

Stop- Francesca: “y'all are chaotic yappers the lord cannot present me a harder challenge”

Featherington's! I almost forgot both of Pen's sisters were married here! I keep remembering the book (romancing Mr. Bridgerton) and that the show has arranged things differently.

Prudence's man (I cannot/ do not remember his name) is giving such strong Kenergy.

Would it be the Featherington household without financial drama?

Eloise - Pen meet up, omg the heart break in their eyes!!

Cressida, when I get you!! It has been 0.5 seconds since this girl got to this garden party and she's already bullying Pen. Girl breathe.

Cressida-Eloise is intriguing as a dynamic I’m afraid. Also, Pen’s sad little face (cry)

I'm a bit confused with Francesca's interest in the marriage mart right now as she seems to prefer being around small groups of people and does not have much interest in being around guys. It feels as if this is a chore she must fulfil.

Kate -Violet solidarity is so cute to see after the angst of last season

Lady Danbury in the white ensemble with the top hat is looking magnificent I want her to poke someone with her cane!!

I'm liking the make up on Kate much more this season??? She seems a lot more glowy and rosy, maybe it's the lighting or something but her make up looks different.

I'm so sorry but Colin getting all this attention after having a literal hot girl summer is vv funny. Like he's in his early 20s lmao, but he is not giving confidence he is giving slightly awkward line reading with no chemistry. In the books him being more rakish was believable because it was set 10 years later.

Colin meeting and talking to Pen, side eye my boy. I'm loving the costuming choices to visibly show they are both uncomfortable/ do not fit their clothes well and it’s so starkly done. Poor Pen in this yellow dress makes her look a lot more juvenile (which isn't bad but it is unflattering). And Colin with what I am assuming are Anthony hand me downs since that jacket looks frumpy. The parallels!

Omg "Go home and get to work" Mrs.Featherington is so unserious

One sentence horror story "I take comfort in knowing you will always be there to take care of me". Get out miss Penelope runnn

Colin had one slutty slutty summer and the fact they keep trying to frame it as mostly intellectual is sending me.

Eloise reading Jane Austen! Is this character development?

Every scene so far where Pen and Eloise see each other gives the vibe of two exes meeting after the most devastating break up, I appreciate this framing so much because losing your childhood girl best friend is one of the most painful types of breakups.

ABC hang out?? Bennedict responsibility arc?

"She is colder now I am afraid" is a wild way to say someone is dead.

NEWTON!! BABY!! KANTHONY! IN! BED! BEING ROMANTIC!!

Damn! We're getting steamy af scenes already in the first episode! Anthony needing to go down on his wife to start off the day is certainly something I can get behind.

OOh this outfit reveal! Yessssss bb Pen eat them up! Penelope having a *debut* moment.

Aww the Featherinton spouses are sweet.

I see you Colin with that side eye

Omg Penelope being a bombshell and being socially awkward is so cute. You’ll figure it out soon bb don’t give up, they’re just jelous!

Ooh these girls are not liking Eloise they're sus

I'm a little uninterested in the queen charlotte diamond drama atm

Francesca: Live Laugh Love the piano forte

These guys are being so rude to Fran like let the poor girl speak! You’re traumatizing her.

Kanthony dancing and Kate's dress to reference the Bridgerton blue?? Oh the costume department has served.

Aww walflower solidarity with Francesca and Penelope. They're both the more reserved of their family, it's sweet moment between the two and the encouragement!

I know we won't love lord Debling but he's looking so sweetly at Pen and being so welcoming compared to everyone else.

CRESSIDA they can never make me like you, you little brat.

Yes, Pen eat him up give it to him tell him!!! "You miss me but you would never court me". GET HIS ASSS!!

 I fear our girl will be writing some scathing lady Whistledown.

This man threatening the Featheringtons is a gremlin, and I am getting bad vibes.

This conversation about the pitting of women against each other is valid social commentary but I cannot focus on it as it appears Cressida has murdered a flock of flamingoes to make her outfit.

Self-awareness, Cressida, does not free you from your crimes!

Kanthony is serving this episode. I appreciate this blissfully married life on them! Also Kate’s outfits are so intricate and beautiful. She has come so far.

Francesca so far feels like an external character, and it was similar in the novels until we got to her book. I really hope we get more context for her outlook soon.

Colin, what are YOU doing here. The way that Luke N is serving this season, whew. I really can buy his clueless innocence at his friendship with Pen, but finally the plot is plotting!

I'm very confused by this Baron Kent plot line and its introduction in the first episode.

OOH the drama for Colin's Whistledown dress down.

She really said he ain't shit, it's a facade, a ruse, he's a sad little attention whore

Colin: FUCK lady whistle down all my homies hate lady whistle down.

I'll keep it short. It was simply exhilarating. I love being back it's like slipping into a comfy worn hoodie. It's good to be back!

[toxicanonymity]

Hiya honey, could you please do Vampire Michael Myers who finds the reader walking into a castle and gets lost so when she tries to find her way out she bumps into Michael and he traps her against the cold stoned wall inhaling her scent and goes like primal mode or some sort of hunter/prey type deal.. btw I love your writing🖤you're truly appreciated and deserve all the love and support you get <3

Yes, I had no idea I had so many thoughts about Vampire Michael Myers. I’ve never written a vampire before. I added a few HCs at the bottom in summary. And thank you for the kind words 🖤 I appreciate you too! Love you friend. Vampire edit by me lol.

Michael's Castle

3k | Vampire!Michael Myers x Fem!Reader | NSFW 

Warnings: unsafe piv, period stuff / cunnilingus, weird ritualistic stuff, manhandling, dubcon/noncon

You’re vacationing in Romania, and your hostel isn’t far from a forest.  You go for a hike alone, and there’s a strange feeling in the woods.  Time seems to move differently.  It starts getting dark long before you expect. Your compass stops working and your phone doesn’t have service.  Your period cramps are getting worse.  The forest is dense, but it’s thinning up ahead.  You feel like you’re almost to civilization, so you keep going instead of turning around, thinking you’ll get a cab back to the hostel.  It would be too risky to get lost deep in the forest. 

At the edge of the woods, there’s a path. It’s dusk, there’s no lighting, and you can’t see far. You start walking along the path and it turns into a drawbridge over a canal, where a dense fog is settling.  A large building looms ahead.  As you walk further, you can see it’s a stone castle.  The canal was a moat.  There are two flickering lights.  You quicken your pace and walk toward the lights.  The lights are two gas lamps on either side of a giant, double wooden door. 

You knock and there’s no answer, but it creaks open.  After waiting a few seconds, you step inside.  The air is cool and dry.  Pillar candles sparsely adorn the walls, not nearly enough to illuminate the whole area, but there are a few openings in the ceiling that would provide sunlight if it weren’t dark out.  

The candles are lit, so someone must be home.   You call, “Hello?” but no one answers. 

The large wood door slams shut, startling you along with a few bats, which screech and fly up to the ceiling.  You turn around and see no one.   You follow the candles to a hallway. Your footsteps echo.  The hall is lined with crevasses you can’t see into.  A sense of dread sets over you, and you decide it’s time to leave rather than walk even deeper into this gloomy castle.  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

When you’re almost back to the main entrance, you bump into an enormous human shape and your heart goes to your throat. 

You stare straight up at the looming figure.  He might be the largest man you’ve ever seen. 

“I, uh, seem to be lost," you say. "I didn't mean to intrude.  I just need to call a cab back to my hostel.” 

In the flickering candlelight, you see the pale face of a man.  His mouth is obscured by a tall, dark collar, but from the nose up, he looks like notorious escaped killer Michael Myers.  Has he been hiding out here all these years? 

The man sniffs the air like an animal and his nostrils seem to flare.   

You swallow and begin to back up, but he grabs you by the throat.   He slams you up against the cold, stone wall right next to a candle.  His grip on your throat tightens and you squirm.  He raises you up at least a foot off the ground to look at him face-to-face. You cough and gag and he loosens his grip, holding you instead with his hands on your arms. Your breath is visible in the air between you.

There’s no doubt in your mind it’s Michael Myers.  He has the exact same features as Michael’s mask, and a scar on one eye.   Something is off about him, though. He licks his lips.  It’s not a mask.   It’s his actual face, with the exact same features. 

He leans in and you think you see a flicker of beautiful human eyes gazing down from above the collar, but he sniffs you and his eyes darken entirely.  Even the whites of his eyes are black.  Something feels very wrong about him, and yet  something also stirs between your legs. There’s also an air of sensuality about him.  

The stone is cold and rough behind your head.  You’re grateful to be wearing your hiking clothes.  Your sweatshirt allows you some buffer from the stone, but it still doesn’t feel good. Michael releases you and you fall to the ground.  You start to stand up and wonder if he’s going to let you leave him in peace.  

No, he doesn’t.  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

He blocks the hallway so you can’t get back to the front door.  He lets you walk the opposite direction, deeper, and darker into the castle, then follows after you.  He’s not walking fast, but his stride is so long that he’s gaining on you as you run down the hall.   You stumble over what feels like uneven cobblestone, unable to see, with Michael lumbering behind you.  You hit a dead end and your only choice is a spiral staircase that only goes down.  

You look back to see how close Michael is and you do a double take.  His collar is enormous, making him look even larger than he is.  He takes up the whole staircase.  The stairs finally end and your stomach drops when you see iron bars in front of you.  You’re in a dungeon.  You scurry around looking for an exit, but there isn’t one.   There are several cells, and each looks worse than the last.  There are also a bunch of big metal hooks hanging from the ceiling.  You don’t know what the equipment is, but it doesn’t look good.  Iron, sharp objects, balls and chains, saws.  

Michael looms patiently, blocking the exit, watching you.  You get the sense he’s waiting for you to choose a cell for yourself.  There’s nowhere for you to run, so you just stand there. Eventually, he forces you into a cell that has an awful looking chair with iron restraints and a cream-colored nightgown hanging from a hook. 

He crowds you up against the wall and pulls a metal lever on the wall, which turns on a gas lamp.   God, he’s huge.  His jumpsuit is black.  He licks his lips again and stretches his jaw.  That’s when you see them – two small, sharp fangs.  His tongue caresses the sharp point of one of them as he bends down and sniffs you, then lifts you up again.  You whimper in horror. He brings his face to your jaw.   His breath is ice cold on your neck.  It sends a shiver down your spine and your nipples pucker.  Blood rushes to your loins.  Your body is confused.  

“Wait, wait, wait,” you plead.  

You urgently unbutton and unzip your pants, dip your finger inside yourself and bring it out so he can see your blood.  “Here,” you say.  “Take all you want.”  You kick off your pants entirely.  Your heart is racing but you pray this works.  

He takes a long, hard sniff, closing his eyes.  He likes what he smells. He puts your fingers in his mouth and sucks, giving you butterflies in the stomach.  Then, he throws you down on the floor.  As you look up at him, you see a bulge swelling in his jumpsuit.  You scramble back into the corner and he prowls toward you.  The scarred, white skin of his face moves as he clenches his jaw and flares his nostrils.

His massive, icy hands spread your knees apart, then he buries his face between your legs, nose first, drawing a long inhale.  He growls, then digs in. His lips and tongue are cold and make you tingle.  He laps every crevice of your folds.  He plunges his tongue inside you and a knot forms in your core with his nose digging into your clit.  He absolutely devours your cunt.  He sucks harder and harder and periodically uses his fingers to pillage you for more blood. His enormous middle finger reaches all the way to your cervix.  You’re throbbing and weak. Your thighs tremble.  A large vein throbs across his forehead.

 He unhinges his jaw and his mouth covers your entire seam like a vacuum.   He sucks with so much pressure it feels like your whole uterus is emptying into his mouth.  The suction does something to you.  You tingle and throb and want more and more.    He continues to suck with his mouth sealed around you, his fangs pressed into your folds, while his tongue violently scrapes your walls clean. The next thing you know, you hear your moan echo through the dungeon as you come in his face.  He doesn’t let up.  You writhe and pulse and your hips roll into his face until you can finally relax. 

When he’s finished, he looks up at you with the lower half of his face covered in blood as you finish coming.   His chest rises and falls. He picks up your underwear and jeans and smells them. He tears off your hoodie, shirt, and bra.  He tosses the thin nightgown at you and takes your clothes with him as he leaves and locks you in the cell.

🦇🦇🦇🦇

You shiver and cry on the cold stone floor for what feels like hours.  Your cramps are gone, but you’re freezing and scared.  It’s so dark.  You try opening the cell door, and you can't make it budge.  You try to sleep, but  you can’t get tired. Eventually, you explore the rest of the cell and find a sharp object that allows you to open the lock with some difficulty.  You try to open the door as quietly as possible, but the scrape of metal on stone still echoes. 

There's only one way out – up the spiral staircase and down the hall.  You make it up the staircase, your heart pounding. Then you hear the thud of boots in the distance.  There's nowhere for you to go, so you cower against the wall, making yourself as small as possible as the footsteps get louder.  You dip your fingers into yourself and frantically check for blood, but there’s none.  He took it all.  What you do find is arousal.  You feel a pang of shame, but it’s natural for your body to respond this way to a hot, hulking vampire that oozes sexual energy and already ate you out within an inch of your life.  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

The footsteps stop, and you try to creep down the hall silently.  You make it all the way to the front entrance, and as soon as you’re about to step into the large, open space, a massive hand shoots out and grabs you by the throat.  He was waiting for you.  

Once again, he slams you against the cold wall next to a pillar candle.  You thrash and choke, and he releases his grip, catching you with his knee between your legs and his hands on your arms. The flame illuminates his haunting face.  You stare into his black eyes and feel something happening to you.  His nose comes to your neck and you feel the suction of his nostrils as he inhales your scent.  

He grabs the candelabra on the wall and pulls it. The wall behind you begins to lower into the ground, and he throws you over his shoulder.    The lowering stone sounds like a large drawbridge creaking and grinding.  His hand slips between your legs while he waits for the secret door to lower completely into the floor.  A large finger glides against your slippery clit, and you feel like you could pass out.  He steps into the hidden passage and pulls another candelabra on the wall. 

Gas flames flicker to life.  He lumbers down the dimly lit hall.  He's so tall, you feel like you're too close to the ceiling. You're afraid of where he's taking you.  You pray it's not a shortcut to the dungeon.  

Your hip rests against his stiff collar.   Since you're facing backwards, you can't see where you're going, but you can see the walls of the passage are made of bones like an ossuary.  Your heart sinks.   What is he going to do to you?  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

He bends his knees to crouch under an archway and comes to a stop.  He  pulls another candelabra and there’s more creaking and grinding.  Then, he throws you down and you brace for impact but your back lands on something soft and velvet that continues to rise a few more inches before coming to a stop.  When the grind of stone-on-stone stops, you hear faint organ music in the distance.   You're lying face up on a padded, velvet altar of sorts.   Your ass is at the edge with your legs hanging off.    You try to sit up and he forces you back down. 

He takes the nightgown off you and spreads your knees,  wedging his enormous form between them.  The altar is the exact height of his inseam.  His pelvis presses into you, and the fabric of his black jumpsuit is silky and smooth against your dripping seam.  His enormous package hardens right between your legs, and your whole body feels weak with arousal.  The bulge is thick and pulses against you.  All your blood rushes to your loins and your hips tilt, reflexively seeking more of him.  He pushes into you harder, rolling his hard, satin-clad member against your naked, slippery clit.  

He looms over you, observing you.    His black eyes glisten and he tilts his head. He has the nicest Adam's apple, too, perfectly framed by his collar.  He adjusts his collar, then begins to unzip his suit.  His pale skin glistens in the flickering light.   He brings the zipper down past where you can see and his monster cock springs out and slaps your clit, sending a rush of pleasure through you.  He nestles the tip at your entrance.  You throb with need and whimper in fear.  

His large hands grab hold of your hips and jerk you toward him at the same time he thrusts forward,  plunging his entire length into you.  Your body screams and so do you as his obscene length splits you in two.  He retreats then pushes in again and you whimper and cry.   He puts his hands on your abdomen and slides them onto your breasts as his hips rock into you.  His icy palms pucker your nipples. He explores your body, and you wince a little less with each thrust. 

He lowers his head to your chest.  Your body is starting to enjoy the feeling of his cock filling you up in short, slow thrusts.  His mouth hovers over your nipple and his icy breath makes it painfully hard.  He brings his face directly over yours and his soft thrusts turn into harder jabs..   Tension builds deep inside you.  

His black eyes penetrate yours with his cock deep inside you.  He opens his mouth and licks his lips.  Your whole body prickles in goosebumps when you see his fangs again.  There's a flash of something behind his eyes, something other than black.  All the lights flicker out at once, but not before you see his collar drop and his jumpsuit fall around his waist.  The faint music sounds louder with the lights out.  

The pitch dark also makes his shaft feel even better as he rams into you.   The cool skin of his chest meets yours, then his lips brush against your mouth.  He slows his hips but continues to fill you to the brim with each rut.  The tension inside you is overwhelming. You’re aching for release and your hips roll into him needily. 

His cool tongue gently breaches your mouth and he kisses you passionately.  His fang pricks you on the lip, then sucks it feverishly, and his already-hard cock swells even bigger and harder inside you as he fucks you and you start twitching on his cock.    

When he’s done with your lip, he stills himself, taking an enormous breath in through his nose and slowing his hips almost to a halt, but not completely.  You don’t want him to stop.  Your hips rise into his and your legs wrap around him.  He brings his lips to your jaw and drags them lightly down your neck, his nose brushing your chin as he moves his lips to the other side. He buries his steely cock inside you at a crawling pace that’s driving you mad. 

He unhinges his jaw and seals his lips in the crook of your neck.  His tongue circles your skin and his cock twitches inside you then slowly retreats and stops, half-in.  His fangs graze you, then sink deep into your delicate neck at the same time his cock slams back into you.  You jolt in pleasure.  He moves his hips as he sucks your blood.  A new life force surges through you and something old spills out.  His cock erupts and so does the tension in your core.  His fangs sink deeper and he sucks with superhuman power.  He pulsates enormously inside you while you contract around him and cool waves of relief wash over your body.  It’s not just physical – his fangs are drawing out all your fears and anxiety.  It’s just fading away.  

When he’s finished, the candles flicker back on.  There are several large veins across his forehead and cheeks that deflate back into his smooth, pale skin as he stands up.  You admire his ripped body and bullet wound scars as he pulls his jumpsuit sleeves back on.    When he turns up his collar, a gust of wind blows out all the flames again and you feel a rush of excitement.  But what’s strange is that somehow, you can still see his pale face.  Not very well, not very much, but the darkness is no longer pitch-black.  

🦇🦇🦇🦇

Vampire Michael HCs:

Hybrid 1978/2007. His face IS the mask. It’s smooth like the 1978 flashback in Halloween Kills, but he has veins in his face that bulge in the pattern of the RZ  mask.  Eyes are black, including the sclera.  You rarely think you catch a glimpse of something else.  Hot AF almost 200 cm, muscular, super strength. 

Black jumpsuit, style of mechanic suit but in smooth, vampire uniform material. Enormous collar instead of cape.

Doesn't use electricity.  Super high tech castle considering it's all totally analog. Has an altar that comes up out of the floor with handles each side conveniently placed for leverage as he fucks you. 

And bonus version.of the cobbled together pic lol

almost forgot my little tag list lol Michael tag list: @ethanhoewke @rebel-blue @wolvesandvampires

[shmolish]

nice story but can you make dark cacao vs affogato x male affogato's priest reader but in original universe like reader meet affogato again outside kingdom during mission

also add against and injured ( not too much )

AN: So, I kinda forgot a lot of the crk kingdom lore, but I think I got this! Been procrastinating on this one, sorry. In Affogato's wiki, it says that after his banishment, he practiced magic and stuff, so I mentioned that in the story. Um, and I tried to find out where he went after the banishment, but I couldn't find anything so I'm just assuming he's just in a small camp or set. Idk man. If things aren't right in this, please just lmk and I can make some edits or maybe just another story. I SWEAR IM TRYING. Also I'm calling reader the prince since him and Dark Cacao are dating

Dark Cacao vs Affogato x Male! Affogato Priest's Reader

Oneshot

Warnings: Mild Injury, not proof read

-Unpleasant-

A radiant, pure, and glistening snow. It covered the ground, and trees... everything. A beautiful sight to behold, and luckily for you, you were experiencing the light snowfall firsthand!

You were recently sent out on a mission to survey a certain area in the woods. Nothing too difficult. In fact, it was very simple. Survey, collect data, and then return to the kingdom, and with the light snowfall, it should have been that hard.

Well, the snow used to be light. You don't know what caused such a sudden change, but it was now practically a blizzard. If you didn't retreat to somewhere more warm, you were going to freeze to death!

The only problem is... where would you go? Everything was all forest as far as the eyes could see.

"Feeling cold doll? Looks like you could use some help.." said a voice. You couldn't see who it was through all of the snow, but... you couldn't shake the feeling that you knew them.

"Oh, yeah! Is there anywhere we can go get out of the blizzard..?"

You could hear a subtle chuckle.

"Of course there is." A bright light would flash and you were now in a completely different area.

A nice, warm, and cozy cabin. A fireplace was lit in the corner, but.... you could also now see them.

"Affogato Cookie?" You'd shout in bewilderment as you took a step back.

"Yes. Did you miss me~?" He'd take a step closer to you and take hold of your chin, forcing you to look at him.

Immediately, you swatted away his hand and sent him a glare.

"Do not touch me," you would hiss.

"Ahaha, you've still got that vicious personality, I see! But... this is no way to treat the person who has just saved your life, is it?"

He stared at you with those cold and uncaring eyes, still weilding that sly smile he always had all those months ago.

"Fine then. Thank you for saving me," you would say half-heartedly. You were grateful, just a bit on edge since it was Affogato who had saved you.

"So doll, how have you been? Is the king doing well?" He would ask. You only nod your head.

"How... unpleasant."

Affogato would swirl around his staff, and a pain would shoot through your body.

You knew exactly what this was. It was the poison he would use on his enemies... but he's improved.

"Ah, I've missed you're charming little expressions! This is why you've always been my favorite little doll~" He would pinch your cheeks while giving you that taunting smile.

"It hurts, doesn't it? I can make it stop," said Affogato Cookie.

"Then stop it," you would say with a glare.

"Of course! Under one condition though. You have to bring me to meet Dark Cacao Cookie. This is something you can do... yes?"

Oh. He was planning something for sure, but... all you could think about was the venom running through your blood.

"Fine! Just cut it out already."

He'd flick his staff once more, and the pain would lessen. Of course, poison cannot be cured so easily.

"The burning sensation will only last for a little while. Anyway, I'm glad we could come to an agreement! Now then, shall we head there now?"

That scowl never left your face, but you would nod your head all the same. It's not like you could take Affogato in a fight anyway.

《☆》

As Affogato and you walked into the gates of the kingdom, some guards would immediately ready their weapons.

"Prince, what is that traitor doing with you?!" They would ask in a panic.

You took a look at Affogato, who had never looked so calm and collected before.

"Stand down. I'm bringing him to the king," You'd order. Afgogato would chuckle before giving a viscious side eye towards the guards.

They looked shocked, but ultimately followed your lead since going against you was like going against the king himself.

"Yes sir." They said with a bow.

You started walking towards the castle, getting scared looks from the normal citizens.

The dizziness from before has also yet to fade.

"This kingdom looks the same as last time.. though, you are looking as darling as ever," Affogato would say with a grin.

"I don't want to hear it from you."

Affogato only hums, not bothering to push much farther.

It did not take long before you had reached the king's chambers.

Dark Cacao noticed Affogago instantly.

"What is he doing here?" Dark Cacao would ask with a booming voice. His blade was already at the ready.

"Ah ah ah, I wouldn't be so hasty to attack. You're little lover here might get hurt,"

Affogato would snicker before waving his staff, and that dark bubble would come back to consume you.

"You-" Dark Cacao would grit his teeth while glaring daggers into Affogato.

"Hand over the kingdom, and I'll stop the curse on him."

Dark Cacao's eyes darkened, and in an instant, he'd dash over to Affogato and strike him.

The blade would barely graze Affogato's shoulder, but it still drew blood. In a panic, Affogato would fall to the ground and start backing away.

"Ah, this isn't how the plan was supposed to turn out-"

Dark Cacao pointed the Swords edge at his neck.

"Stop the spell and leave. Next time you come here, I won't hesitate to take your life," said Dark Cacao.

He laughed nervously before swiftly undoing the curse. He flicked the staff once more again and teleported to who knows where.

Dark Cacao rushed to your side quickly.

"Are you alright?" He'd ask, holding you up.

"Yeah..." you began to cough a bit before looking at him with weary eyes.

"Here, let's get you some rest..."

《☆》 Fin

[cookiesandbiscuits]

Obey Me! Younger Demon Brothers + Diavolo & Solomon With an MC Who Gives Punches When Surprised

A/N: This is technically part two of the "MC Who Gives Punches When Surprised" headcanon I made a while back. It was only supposed to include Solomon with the younger brothers but with @miss-kiabelle 's request, I decided to add Diavolo to the mix. I won't add Barbatos and the angels to this hc because one: Barbatos lowkey scares me, and two: I can't imagine MC punching the angels, esp. Luke.

I also didn't use the action "punch" to all of the characters below because I was running out of ideas :((

Anyways, I hope you guys find this to your liking.

For those who haven't read the Older Brothers Edition, just click here!

Summary: The title is still self-explanatory

Genre: Crack + Comfort on Beel's part (kind of)

CW: Mention of past trauma/anxiety; might be a little out of context in some parts.

Another Note: MC has Nyctalopia (Night Blindness) in Asmo and Beel's part

MASTERLIST

Satan

You were at the library reading a horror-suspense novel that piqued your interest.

You chose to sit at the most isolated spot in the library so no one would bother you while reading. You regretted it horribly.

As you were finally reading the exciting (read as scary) part, you felt someone touch your shoulder.

As a response to the sudden touch and because you were spooked by the novel, you punched the person to wherever part of their body you can easily hit as a defense mechanism.

After your flight-or-fight response have subsided, you saw Satan crouched on the floor while holding his abdominal area.

You felt fear creeping back to you only this time, it's because the aura around the demon started to become somber.

"A-are you... alright?" You swallowed the lump that was forming in your throat in an attempt to calm yourself down.

"I am..." *cough* "...alright, thank you for asking. I was about to say that we should probably head home because it was getting late but you didn't gave me a chance to speak."

Urk! "S-sorry," you muttered.

To be honest, he was starting to feel a little indignant because of your unsolicited punch to his stomach but when he saw the title of the novel you were reading, he really can't blame you for doing that.

"It's okay. But I advise you to go into a not-so-secluded spot especially when you're going to read something like that." He points to the novel on the table.

You nodded as you promised yourself to follow his advice.

Asmodeus

The House of Lamentation was fairly quiet that night. No bickering, no chaos, just a peaceful evening. And honestly, you were thankful for that.

You were scrolling through your D.D.D. when you saw the time on the screen.

You remembered that Asmo invited you to join him on his self-care routine tonight.

So you got up and made your way to the Avatar of Lust's room.

"Asmo, it's me. I'm coming in, okay?" You spoke after knocking on his door and upon knowing that it was unlocked, you proceeded to open it and let yourself in.

You needed to squint your eyes for you to see where you were going since the room was dark and the scented candles that were lit are the only source of light in the room. Which didn't help a bit to your vision.

As you searched for the fifth born's figure, you spotted a hovering creepy white face beside you.

As a response to suddenly seeing the face, your body automatically defended itself in a form of a slap.

"Oww!"

You gasped as you recognized the voice, "Asmo, is that you?! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

After explaining your situation to the shocked demon, the misunderstanding was quickly cleared.

As much as he wanted to get mad at you for slapping him, he really can't blame you for having nyctalopia.

He made a mental note to himself to keep the lights on whenever you visited his room.

Beelzebub

You were loitering in the common room since you couldn't go outside because of a storm.

The moment you stood up to go to the bathroom, the lights went out.

You couldn't move an inch to your spot because you can't see that well in the dark. To add to your streak of bad luck, your phone just died.

As the thunder got louder, the more scared you get. Thunders remind you of a not-so-good memory you had.

So you just closed your eyes tight hoping that the minute you open your eyes, the thunderstorm has passed away.

But there was someone behind your back.

When another loud rumble was heard you leaped out in fear, inadvertently hitting the person behind you with your head while doing so.

When the lights came back on, you saw Beel looking at you worriedly, his chin a little redder than usual.

Putting two and two together, you realized that you accidentally headbutted the demon on his chin.

You profusely apologized to the demon, only to be enveloped in a bear hug in return.

"It's okay, MC. I know you didn't mean to do it. I saw you earlier frozen in place, so I came to check out if you're doing okay." (I believe demons have excellent night visions)

He'll bring you back into your room and will stay with you until the storm had subsided.

Belphegor

The student council has an emergency meeting that day so you were the only one left in the House of Lamentation, or so you thought.

Since you've got nothing else to do today, you decided to finish the novel you were reading the other day. (Referring to the novel in Satan's part)

Little did you know, Belphie chose to skip today's meeting to sleep.

But he can't find a comfortable position to sleep in. After countless turning and rolling, he suddenly remembered you, his living body pillow.

With a grumble, he left his pillow haven he called bed to find you.

When he did find you, you were too engrossed in your book that you didn't even notice the seventh born's presence.

The moment he spoke beside you, you were so surprised that you gave him a punch that was enough to knock him out. (Deja vu? 😆)

Well, at least you've helped him with his sleeping problem. Just not the way he wanted tho.

Expect to see him with a bruised face for a few days.

Diavolo

You, Diavolo, Barbatos, and the brothers were at an amusement park in the human world.

You've tried all of the attractions the park can offer except for one. The House of Horrors, the newest attraction of the park.

It was a horror house + escape room attraction, which was something that you loved to visit with your friends.

With the majority's vote, the group decided to visit the said attraction, much to Mammon's chagrin.

A few moments later after entering, you got separated from the group. You love these kinds of attractions but there was a difference when you visited them before than today. You didn't get separated from your group.

Now alone, you felt anxiety slowly creep into your heart. But you've gathered enough courage to go on.

But when you felt a looming presence beside you, all of that courage goes down the drain.

In a panic, you accidentally threw a smack at that person.

"G-ack!"

Wait, that voice. It's familiar.

When you confirmed that it was indeed Lord Diavolo, you felt cold shivers down your spine.

You were lucky Lucifer nor Barbatos were with you at that moment or you'll get a scolding for what you've done.

You let out a sigh of relief after knowing that the demon prince was alright. You were also happy that you now have a companion again.

As you comforted a shaking Mammon after your group finally escaped the horror house, you looked in Diavolo's direction with a slight hint of worry.

Don't worry MC, the incident that happened between the two of you will be kept a secret. (So that you can avoid Lucifer's lecture)

Solomon

(Please refer to Lesson 21-1 for context)

"By the way, MC. I can't help wondering..."

You waited for him to finish his message when he suddenly appeared behind you.

"When will you mention how much you missed me?"

You were surprised to see Solomon out of nowhere. That much he predicted.

What he didn't anticipate was the punch you gave him after his surprise.

It was strong enough to topple him down to the ground.

"Wh- Solomon!" You rushed to help the poor sorcerer get back up.

"MC..."

"Y-yes?"

"Did you perhaps practice martial arts in the past?"

"..."

You nodded slowly to confirm his question.

"Ah... I figured as much. You've got strong punches," he tells as he rubs his jaw.

The two of you teleported back to the Devildom, the brothers quickly rushed over you in disbelief that you were back.

Only after they get over their initial shock that they've noticed Solomon with his slightly red jaw.

"Solomon! What happened to your jaw?!" Asmo frantically questions him as he tilted the sorcerer's face to examine the newly forming bruise.

"Oh, you know. Just a little incident along the way," Solomon replied before glancing in your direction.

You averted your eyes to hide your guilty look. You'll apologize to him later.

And it is done! Hehe this was really fun to write even though I blanked out on some parts. I couldn't make Beel's part funny so I decided to make it a comfort hc instead.

[moosemonstrous]

So much has built up in the last few days since I started writing this bit that there are parts I'll need to change, but I'm being very brave and not doing proper edits or it will never get posted 😂

Ghost Rider Pacific Rim AU - Beastie Riders

(insert The Distance by All Good Things. Or Cake. Pick your favourite version!)

Robbie doesn't want to be having fun.

He's still beat from training earlier in the day - Brooks seems convinced he's found a way to cheat his systems and had him repeat every course, twice. The muscles in his legs still shake a little every time he stops moving for longer than a few seconds. That isn't much of an issue, though, because the music in the arena thrums through his body like the relay gel through suit circuitry. Between that, the UV lights revealing the intricate paint and tattoos over everyone's skin - there is a lot more exposed skin here than he's used to - and the sheer amount of people, he doesn't know what to pay attention to. He feels like a kid in a toy shop. He definitely can't afford anything on sale, but--

He's about to watch demons tear each other apart for sport. It shouldn't be exciting.

You don't unclench even for a second, huh.

It's much easier to ignore the voice in all this noise. Cho grins at him - or at least he hopes that's Cho, his face lit up in green strokes he can't follow for very long without getting a bit dizzy. His arms are glowing, too, even though he didn't put any paint on them - he didn't strike Robbie as someone who would get tattoos. Shows what he knows. Cho says something Robbie can't hear over the music and pulls him by the arm through the crowd, closer to the edge of the viewing platform. People who don't want to make way get elbowed aside. It's honestly a minor miracle nobody knocks his teeth out.

Cho has his phone out, and what looks like a bank app open. No, it's betting. There's an app to bet on the fight, because of course there is. Cho points to the edge of the square space below, still talking.

"I can't--" Robbie sighs, and lets himself be pulled down to a talk-into-ear level.

"I said we're really damn lucky!" Cho shouts. "It's Sister Grimm versus Ghost Rider!"

Robbie has no idea what either of those names mean, but judging by the numbers ticking up on the app, they're pretty popular. Racing never brought in this much money. It could be something to look into, when the whole jaeger business inevitably blows up in his face. Provided Robbie doesn't blow up right along with it, that is.

He listens out, but the voice either doesn't have a comment, or is too quiet to make out in the growing racket in the arena. Suddenly, all the lights go out, leaving only the glow of the tattoos and a single red beam pointing to the stage in the middle of the arena.

A projection of a tall man in a white suit appears to the general approval of the crowd. He speaks in Cantonese, so Robbie has no clue what he's actually saying, but he can pick it up from context - the fight is about to begin.

"That's Sister Grimm!" Cho elbows him to look to stage left, where a young Asian woman wearing mostly just paint strikes a pose to the beat of the music. She blows a kiss to the man in the white suit, who mimes fainting before picking up his mic to introduce the other fighter.

Some of Robbie’s unease returns at the sight of the Ghost Rider. He's wearing what seems to be a heavily modified drivesuit - it's covered in all manner of studs and spikes, the spinal clasp made to look like it's partially ripped out. What's visible of his skin is painted black to better contrast the skull-like tattoos across his face, like the bones are breaking through to the surface. He has enough metal in his face to build a tank out of, and when the cameras zoom in, Robbie spots a series of painful-looking subdermal implants along his cheekbones.

"He's big back home!" Cho tells him. "I didn't know he even left the continent!"

Wait a second. Not too quiet, then. Wait a goddamn second, it can't be--

Both riders step closer to the fighting pit. The crowd quiets down, and so does the music. The white suit dissolves into a cloud of sparkles. The riders' respective teams are a flurry of well-rehearsed chaos behind them, their gear looking nearly as complicated as anything on the LOCCENT bridge back at the base.

He hears the growl first. It's low, the reverberation standing up every hair on Robbie’s neck. Not quite like facing a Cat 4 - he doesn't think anything quite compares to having The Charger's head locked in the jaws of a monster the size of a skyscraper - but the primal fear it evokes is familiar. The dark shape slithering out from under Sister Grimm's stage reminds him of a bird stuck in an oil spill, its long arms connected to its body with leathery membranes. It drags itself to the middle of the ring and gives out a guttural roar.

The response to the call is instantaneous - the other demon rips into the pit like it was clawing at the gate to be let out and stands on two of it's six legs to scream. It's a chilingly human sound. It looks skeletal and thoroughly alien, like no animal Robbie has ever seen, and he can't tell whether the orange glow on it's hide is paint or something natural.

"He hasn't lost a fight in four years!" Cho yells into his ear. Robbie can believe that. As the demons circle each other in the ring, Sister Grimm looks determined, focused. Ghost Rider seems to barely be paying attention. His demon is similarly distracted, eyeing the crowd above it like it's planning out its dinner.

No, it's the fucking Corinthian Maneuver! The voice groans. He's even doing that stupid half-turn-- What are those idiots in the academy even teaching you?

Robbie really, really hates it when the voice says something he has no way of knowing about. Corinthian sounds vaguely biblical, though, so maybe it's--

Hydra. Hydra Corinthian. It used to run point on... The voice sighs like Robbie is it's single greatest disappointment. Never-fucking-mind, watch the fight.

Sister Grimm attacks first, the monster's claws swiping out with deadly speed, but despite the appearances Ghost Rider is ready - his demon dodges out of the way and up the wall, bouncing off it to land a heavy hit on its opponent's trunk. It doesn't follow up - it backs up and waits for the bird to right itself. At first, Robbie thinks it's some weird sort of sportsmanship, a way to prolong the fight. He's right on the latter, but it quickly becomes obvious sportsmanship has nothing to do with this fight.

Sister Grimm barely manages to get a hit in - Ghost Rider is too fast, slinking under the wing-like arms and taking nips out of the oily hide like he isn't even interested in making them count. He's playing with his food.

Robbie doesn't know how to feel about that. Logically, he recognises he's watching a mostly-illegal pit brawl in the shadiest part of the Bone Slums. It's probably rigged. He's probably the only person in the whole arena not to know how the fight will end, and the combined unfairness of it all starts to simmer low in his chest. When he looks at Cho, though, he's practically hanging over the railing of the platform to get a better view at where Sister Grimm just manages to snag a claw between Ghost Rider's bony ribs. He looks to Robbie with a huge grin on his face before pulling him down to shout: "They're using jaeger tactics! Can you imagine Ivanov's face if he hears about it?!"

And, well, that is a pretty good image to tuck away for the next time the Colonel has an opinion on The Charger's deployment position. Not that he ever will hear about it - not from Robbie, at the very least.

Down in the pit, Sister Grimm has Ghost Rider in a headlock. Both beasts are bleeding from shallow wounds, the black substance oozing out and down onto the concrete. Lesser demons don't excrete corruption like their larger counterparts, but the sight still makes him back away from the barrier.

Don't be a fucking baby, the voice chides. Even the nerd has more balls than you.

The nerd doesn't get sprayed with it on the regular, Robbie thinks sullenly.

Neither do you. Your pod is like a goddamn armored egg now, back in the day we had sea water coming through the vents--oooh, look at that!

Sister Grimm swiped the legs out from under the Ghost Rider with it's wing, and has the beast pinned. The bird creature's beak opens so wide it almost unhinges, and the other monster appears to have given up. Everyone seems to hold their breath at once, but when Robbie looks to its master, the man is smiling, his orange teeth-tattoos stretching with it in a very unsettling manner.

Just as the beak is about to snap shut on his beast's neck, its middle legs--pop out of sockets. The suddenly elongated limbs wrap around the bird's neck and twist, and Sister Grimm screams in agony as her demon drops down, dead. The crowd explodes, people all around Robbie yelling and stomping their feet as once again the music rises to it's previous levels.

"How--!" Robbie has to hold onto Cho's shirt before he topples over the barrier. "Did you see that?!"

Ghost Rider whoops, turning to high-five one of his techs while his beast heaves the corpse off of itself and runs a victorious lap around the ring. It scales its walls nearly to the barrier, snapping at the audience's outstretched hands.

Fucking show-off, the voice grumbles, and Robbie can't help but snort in laughter. Showing off seems well deserved at this point. The man in the white suit reappears on the Rider’s side of the stage, lifting up his arm in victory. He's saying something, but Cho is already dragging Robbie away and down the rickety stairs to pit level.

"Wait, where--?" Robbie doesn't have to resist very hard for Cho to have to pause in his attempted kidnapping. He looks over his shoulder, betrayed. "Where are you going?"

Cho nearly jumps up and down in place, impatient. "Are you kidding me we're going to have a look at that beastie if I have to break into it's paddock!" he exclaims and sprints off, and-- God damn it. This is exactly why Robbie has been reluctant to come.

[ann-writes-universes]

Athaza (Lucien x Reader) 2/3

A/N: I lied I got a wave of energy and finished it off tonight. ;) (Side note I hardly edited this bitch and accidentally made it super long).

Warnings: Amrantha (cunt), AnGST.

W/C: 5.6k (oops)

He was gone for weeks. 

The nature of his work did not allow him to write, and with his absence you did not visit the High lord’s estate. 

“You just seem so pitiful.” Naida whispered as she brushed your hair. She was staring at your reflection in the mirror, silently begging you to look at her. 

“I miss him, Naida. Is that so hard to fathom?” You replied, glancing at her over your shoulder. Her lips turned down in a frown and she rested a soothing hand on your arm. 

“I know sister.” 

“He returns soon doesn't he?” Seena chirped, setting her book down momentarily to watch you from her chair in the corner. The morning light lit her in a pleasant glow, and the newly placed engagement ring on her finger shone brightly. Kaius was a lucky male. 

You only nodded in reply. Naida moved as you made to stand, the silk of your skirts whispering against the carpeted floor as you made your way to the door. 

“Where are you going, Lamb?” Seena pondered, beginning to move from her chair. You held up a hand, shaking your head at her. 

“To see if I can go to Tam’s. I think being there might help me.” Your sisters nodded, eyeing one another as you silently left the room. They both smiled briefly, remembering how it felt to be so freshly in love. 

–

“I don't see why not. The High Lord has missed your presence.” Your father mused, watching you over the rim of his glasses. You were seated before his desk, eyes hopeful and hands clasped on your crossed knees. 

“Emir can escort you on horse today if you wish.” 

You pouted, absolutely dreading the idea of riding an hour on horseback with Emir for company. You loved him, of course, but he could be such a pain. 

Your father chuckled at your face and looked back to the works before him, “Laurent is away at the sea border, discussing with merchants. It might do you good to spend time with Emir. He can be a royal ass but he loves you.” 

You only nodded and thanked your father, eager to be on the way to Tamlin’s estate before noon. As you began to leave your father cleared his throat. Turning to peer at him over your shoulder you were met with his ever soft smile and kind eyes. 

“The Vanserra boy is a good male, Lamb. He loves you deeply.” And you nodded, because what else could you say? He was right. You had picked well. 

–

“You ride like you're terrified of falling off.”

“Well maybe I am, Emir. Have you considered that?” You spat, keeping your gaze trained on the path before you. Emir rolled his eyes and slouched in his saddle. 

“I know you arent. You used to be the best rider out of us all. Even Laurent.” A challenge sparked in his eyes when he turned his gaze to you. The dark mare beneath him huffed erratically and struggled against the tight hold your brother had on her reins. 

Narrowing your eyes you met Emir’s gaze, “Dont even fucking think about it Em.” You snarled, tightening your hold on the cream stallion beneath you. Emir only shrugged with a smirk. 

“Fine. I wont.” He laughed. He loosened the reins and the mare bolted, kicking up dust as she shot off with your brother cackling wildly atop her. You swore under your breath and urged your own horse to follow. 

It felt odd, picking up such speed when it was so unladylike to do so. You had not raced against your siblings since you were young, and the adrenaline was refreshing. In no time, you caught up with Emir and reached out to slap his arm playfully. 

“See, I knew you weren't afraid of a horse.” Emir joked, panting from the sudden motion you both had endured. Distantly, Tamlin’s estate came into view. A smirk began to form on your own lips and you didn't even warn Emir before you were off again, chasing the ghosts of you and Lucien’s forms running through this very spot months ago. 

“Well Lamb, it seems you have nearly run that horse to death.” Tamlin called as you and Emir walked your horses to the steps. He was brandishing a smile and his arms were crossed over his chest. Servants appeared to take your steeds away, and Emir thanked them softly. 

“Those horses were shipped from the continent at a pretty penny. If they can not handle a stretch I will see to it my father gets his money back.” You smiled in reply, bounding up the steps to embrace the blonde lord in a hug. He chuckled into your hair and lifted you from the ground, glad to finally see you once more after so many weeks. 

Emir clasped Tamlin by the arm, greeting the High Lord as he had when they were boys. 

“I would assume you are both starved. Dinner will be ready soon, please feel free to freshen up and join me in the dining room when you are ready.” And with that Tamlin led the two of you inside. 

Being here without Lucien was strange. The wonder and novelty Tamlin’s estate held when you were children had worn off long ago, and without the quick wit and playful banter of your Vanserra brother the hallways now felt cold, empty. Making your way through them after bidding Tamlin a momentary farewell, you could not help but feel the chill of night as it swept through still open windows and darkened corners of the hall. 

“You look petrified, Sister.” Emir spoke, gently prodding your side with his elbow. You shook your head, ridding the thoughts and merely smiled at him in return. 

“Not in the slightest.”

He fell silent then and slowed to a stop outside the door to the room you both knew well enough was your own. His brow was creased in deep thought and his eyes darted away from your own. 

“What is it, Em?” You whispered, reaching out a hand to rest it on his arm. His lips drew together in pensive thought and he finally found the courage to connect his gaze with your own. 

“Do you truly love him (Y/N)?” He questioned, concern laced in his tone. “I know what you and Tamlin have said about him but the stories of his family…” He trailed off, no longer able to look at you as your lips turned into a frown and your eyes widened in shock. 

“Emir, I would think that after the time you have spent with him yourself, you would think better of him.” You chastised, “Have you not seen the proof that he is nothing like his father and brothers?” 

Emir smiled tightly and nodded curtly, patting the hand you rested on his arm gently. “Yes. I suppose I have, but I will always worry about you.” 

And you nodded in some semblance of understanding. He was your brother, and would care for you till the day you died just as Laurent and your father would. Just as you would do for them. 

“Well now that we’ve settled that, go wash up. You smell like a horse’s ass.” And before he could retort you had disappeared into the door behind you. 

–

“That was quite possibly the worst summer of my life!” You giggled, reveling in the laughter of your brother and oldest friend. The wine had been flowing and the food was incredible. 

“Gods I still can not believe mother did not kill Seena for that.” Emir chuckled around a mouth of food. Tamlin’s face was flushed from his own laughter and your sides were beginning to hurt from the joyful tales they were retelling, and yet…

And yet, It was empty. 

Untouched across from you was Lucien’s chair. His place had been set, and yet his chair was untouched. Each time you looked at it you grew silent and returned your attention to the plate before you. Tamlin watched as your eyes grew distant and your laughter fell short. Clearing his throat, he nodded his head towards your brother, recapturing your gaze. 

“Emir, have you considered working on the ships at all?” He spoke, a brow raised as he cut into the meat on his plate. Swallowing, the dark haired male tipped his head in thought and drank deeply from his glass. 

“Yes, and no. It's intriguing do not get me wrong but I feel as though it too closely follows Laurent.” He gandered, peering at Tamlin over the rim of his crystal chalice. Tamlin nodded and pursed his lips. 

“Yes I suppose you're right.” He raised his own glass, on the precipice of a response when glass shattered in the entryway and the screams of a servant filled the home. 

Your utensils clattered to the china before you and both males stood quickly from their seats. The low groans of a male could be heard and someone was screaming Tamlin’s name. Emir looked towards the High Lord and then to you, moving to stand in between your frame and the door as footsteps began to quickly approach. 

The beast that Tamlin kept so firmly on a leash had been given leeway and his claws were carving canyons into the hardwood table. The door burst open to reveal Alis who was sobbing and panting heavily. 

“High Lord…” Her gaze flashed to you and she blanked further, her hands were flying wildly about as she tried to calm herself. 

“Speak Alis.” Tamlin commanded, his tone clipped and curt, ever reserved for the dealings of High Lord. 

“Its Master Lucien. He has returned but-” 

Before she could finish you had shot from your chair and darted towards the door. Emir reached for you but was met with nothing but a breeze from your skirts as you sprinted from the room. His growl of warning was joined by Tamlin’s as they chased after you. 

The closer you got to the entry way the louder the groans became, and the closer you grew the more recognizable they were. 

Nothing could have prepared you for the carnage that awaited you. 

Sprawled on the floor lay your auburn haired lover. The swirling pattern of the marble had been stained a sickly crimson and his tanned skin was pale. Tamlin and Emir slid to a stop behind you, taking in the sight of the Emissary curled into a ball on the floor. 

“Luce…” You whispered, trying to glimpse at his face through the blood sticky strands of hair that hung in your view. 

He raised his head, and Tamlin emptied his dinner onto the floor. Emir swore and turned away, his arm raising to cover his mouth. 

“Oh my gods…” You sputtered, dropping to your knees before him. Each beat of your heart thundered against your ribs and threatened to break free of its confines. His beautifully golden eyes had been marred, reduced to one. A deep and gorey hole had taken up residence on his face and his only sounds were gurgling whimpers as he collapsed forward into your lap. You held his head close and looked wildly about the room. 

There were servants, crying and looking sickly. Tamlin who was now rushing forward to drop down beside his friend and your brother who was barking orders at guards. 

“Alis, I need you to get me rags.” You spoke, your voice cooler than the emotions you felt. Lucien was shaking like a leaf in your lap and gripping your skirts so tightly his knuckles were turning white. His blood was painting the pale pink of your skirts and running down the length of your arms as you pressed your hands to his wound. He protested, but only briefly before nodding off once more. 

“Now, Alis.” Tamlin barked when the woman had yet to move. As if his voice had snapped her back into reality she ran from the room, two others following behind her closely. “Emir, I need you to send for a healer. Immediately.” He muttered, struggling to find a use for his hands.

“Right away.” And with that Emir had disappeared into the night, winnowing to gods knew where to try and save Lucien’s life. 

With shaking hands you pressed into the carnage of his skull. Bending down you rested your forehead in his slick hair and whispered nothings to him as you awaited someone's return. Tamlin was frantically trying to send guards to gods knew where and Lucien was fading in and out of consciousness. 

When Alis returned she helped you shift the son of flame onto his back and press the cloths to his eyes. Servants were cleaning the blood from the floors and trying their best to stay out of the way. Lucien had raised a hand at some point to grasp one of your own and was damn near breaking the bones there. 

“Lamb, Lamb. Let them help him now.” Tamlin urged, placing a bloodied hand on your shoulder. Your head snapped up and you looked at the healers who had arrived with Emir. Six of them. They stood around you in a circle, assessing the damage done to your lover. You nodded at Tamlin’s words and yet you made no move to leave him. When it became apparent you wouldnt the healers physically removed the male from you, leaving Tamlin to deal with you. 

“He will be okay (Y/N), they are very skilled.” His voice was rough, his hand strong on your shoulder. With wide eyes, you looked down. Your hands were splayed in your lap, unmoved since they took him. The pale pink of your skirts had been stained a deep red and the grooves of your fingers had been coated in the deep brown of his drying blood. A choked sob worked its way out of your throat. 

“Oh Lamb.” Tamlin whispered, gently dragging your limp form from the floor. Strong arms wrapped around you and pressed your head into his shoulder. You let your weight fall against him and allowed the sobs to soak his chest. He was speaking to Emir about something, and the hurried footsteps of your brother fled the entryway and down the steps. Moments later his horse was bolting down the stone pathway.

Tamlin slid an arm under your legs and lifted you, cradling you to his chest as he began to walk to the room you had claimed so many years ago as a child. Alis was not far behind, dutifully listening to her High lord as he sat you in a chair and instructed her to get you clean. 

As she bathed you she spoke of nonsense, hyper aware of the glossy glaze to your eyes and the limpness of your limbs as she lifted them to dress you and put you into bed.  

“Sleep now Lady Elrod, Master Vanserra will be right as rain in the morning.” Alis whispered as she tucked the covers around you. And despite her words, her voice shook, as though she too was trying to convince herself they were true.

That night was a restless sleep. 

—

“Lamb?” 

The knock at your door had you waking with a start. Only moments before when the sun had risen did you finally fall into a slumber, shallow and fitful. The door cracked open and Tamlin was there, averting his eyes to a window. Clearing his throat he shifted anxiously. 

“He’s awake, and he’s asking for you.” 

You only nodded, and he left. Not an ounce of you bothered with getting dressed, you only hurried from bed and wrapped yourself in a robe before darting down the hall towards Lucien’s room. 

The door was open halfway, and voices muddled quietly from the darkness of his room. Healers and servants alike stood around the room, and when the door creaked open their attentions turned towards you. 

You pulled the robe tight and smiled softly at them. Without any words they left the room, and in their absence you found him. He was flat on his back, hands laying at his sides. That light which always seemed to radiate from him had grown dull and his hair was nearly covered entirely by thick bandages that hid the carnage of his missing eye. 

“(Y/N)?” He rasped, turning his head towards the door. The remaining hazel orb searched your face. What he thought he would find there, horror or repulsion, he was not sure. You did not even give him the chance to think of such things before you were sliding into the bed with him and pulling your knees to your chest. 

You placed a lithe hand on his arm and laid your head on your knees. He let you watch him, let you take in the thick scratches which peaked over the tops of his bandaged wounds. They were healing, but not as quickly as normal. “What happened to you?” You whispered, gripping his hand tightly when he slid his fingers into yours. 

Lucien swallowed thickly and turned his head to the windows. The curtains had been drawn tightly and only small rays of light peaked through. 

And then he began to talk. 

He spoke of the horrors he witnessed while Under The Mountain, and the “punishment” he had received from the wretched bitch that held court there. As he spoke, tears dripped silently down your cheeks. At some point he had drug you to his chest, and held you there. His hands drug through your hair fretfully and his voice shook. 

“I will understand if you no longer wish to be with me, Lamb.” He finished, his hand stilling at the base of your skull. You stiffened, stopping the slow circles you had been drawing on his chest. Sitting up you searched that remaining eye, saw the heartache and pain there. You leaned in and pressed a firm kiss to the lid of his good eye, and squeezed his hand which had found yours yet again. 

“I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.” You whispered into his hair. To your surprise he let out a choked sob and hugged you to him tightly. There were whispered ‘thank you’s being pressed into your hair and you deigned not to reply, only held him and stroked his arms. 

–

You stayed with Lucien at Tamlin’s estate throughout the process of his healing. Allowed the Flame Bearer to cry and rage and plot into the deep hours of the night in your room. He was regaining his fire and had all intention to direct it at Amarantha, as did Tamlin. A talented spellcaster had given him a blessed gift, an eye that worked just as well (if not better) than his other. 

Your Father visited occasionally to check on your well being (not that it was of any concern), and your sisters wrote letters when they were not visiting for tea or a walk through Tamlin’s gardens. 

“Its bullshit is what it is, Tam. Nothing more, nothing fucking less.” Lucien's voice floated angrily through the open doors to the veranda. With piqued interest you closed your book and leaned forward in your chair. The males emerged side by side. Tamlin’s brow had been set in a permanent crease and rage was radiating off of your betrothed. 

“Maybe, maybe not.” Tamlin spoke, dropping into a chair across from you. 

“What’s going on?” As you spoke Lucien found the chair beside you and sat with a huff. Muttering a curse he threw a red envelope onto the table before you. With raised brows you looked to Tamlin who sighed and nodded towards the letter. 

You took note of its dark seal, a mountain etched into the wax that had been ripped in half. Skimming its contents briefly you looked at the males in utter shock. 

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head and threw the letter down as though it had burned you. “That's what I told him.” Lucien muttered, resting his head in his hands. 

“Tamlin you can not be seriously considering this, can you?” You spluttered, bracing yourself on the arms of your chair. Tamlin didn't even look at you, he had a far off look in his eyes as he stared out over the garden beyond. He was rubbing his chin with his hand and breathing deeply. 

Sighing, Lucien braced his elbows on his knees and urged his friend to look at him. “Tam. She is fucking insane and you think its a good fucking idea to attend her dinner with your entire court? After what she did to me?” Lucien was pleading, begging Tamlin to listen to him. 

Tamlin let out a strangled laugh, one of a man driven mad and ran his hands through his silken hair. “I dont know what else to do to appease her Luce.” His words were broken, pained. 

You and Lucien shared a look and the red headed male let up, leaning back in his chair to gaze at the gardens. “Your outburst in her ‘court’ pissed her off beyond belief. I'm surprised she hasnt sent her animals to kill one of us yet.” He muttered, never turning his gaze to the two of you.

A slimy feeling overtook your body, one of despair and hatred so foul you felt it sinking into your bones and holding place there.

“The entire court?” You murmured, chewing on a nail. Lucien found your hand and took it in his own, squeezing gently to pull you back to the conversation at hand. “Tam that doesnt seem like an attempt to make amends it seems like a trap.” 

The High lord shuddered in his seat and returned his head to his hands, “I dont know what to do. As your friend, Lucien, I am sorry. But as your High lord my decision is made.” And with that he glanced at the two of you once more before heading back inside. 

“Can you do this?” You whispered, turning your attention to Lucien. He was distant, cold, looking at you but not seeing. His hand fell limp on your own before pulling away completely. 

“It’ll be a miracle if I don’t fucking kill her.” And then he followed in Tamlin’s footsteps. The birds had even hushed, the wind had stilled, and the book you had been reading lost all of its wonder. That red envelope laid still on the table, and the sight of it had that irksome feeling rising in your throat and wrapping around your heart once more. 

–

“I'm just interested to see how her little experiment is going down there.” Emir muttered as he fastened the buttons of his waistcoat. 

“Its not an experiment dimwit its a prison.” Laurent grumbled in reply. The three of you stood at the entryway to Tamlin’s manor, awaiting the highlord and his emissary. You were to winnow together, arrive as a group of Tamlin’s most trusted courtiers. Each of you wore masks of gilded gold that Amarantha had sent. 

Emir’s resembled that of a hawk, beak and all, Laurents a Lion and your own; a sheep. How fitting. 

“You look stunning.” Lucien whispered into your ear. You jumped at his sudden appearance but smiled and looked away nonetheless. His own mask was foxlike, much to his name’s sake. He snaked a hand around your waist and pulled you close. 

“Thank you Lucien.” You returned, threading your fingers through his own that rested loosely on the soft white of your gown. Tamlin cleared his throat and your group turned to face him. He stood at the foot of the stairs clad in deep emeralds and striking golds. His hands were clasped behind his back and his green eyes searched the room as he spoke. 

“Every court will be attending tonight. Ones we enjoy and ones we do not. I expect you all…” He directed his gaze at Lucien, who’s body stiffened at your side. “To be on your best behavior.” 

“I make no promises, Brother.” Lucien smirked, but at the stiff reply Tamlin offered Lucien merely bowed his head in understanding and gripped you tightly. “Shall we then?” He urged and your group of five disappeared into that universal fold. 

–

Her revelry was animalistic. 

Lesser fae and creatures alike fought and drank with a fervor that was easily comparable to beasts in heat. The moment you arrived Lucien had clutched you close and instructed you not to leave his side. Tamlin had taken his place in front of you all, Emir and Laurent heading up the back. At your arrival the ballroom had grown quiet and a pathway had opened. You noted the appearance of High Lord’s from other courts, desperately trying to remember their names and matching it with faces that had only ever been described to you. As your little party made its way towards her dias Lucien whispered names in your ear, urging you not to look at the attor and the other beasts that slunk through the crowd. 

“Welcome to my party, High Lord of Spring.” Amarantha purred. She was splayed across her throne, legs and chest hardly covered by the scraps of red she wore. Her eyes roved over him hungrily and her serpentine tongue flicked out over her lips. You could not help the visible cringe that overtook your body. You heard Emir cough quietly behind you. 

“And you little fox…” She motioned for Tamlin to step aside, giving her a full view of you and Lucien. “You have healed nicely I see.” 

Lucien gripped your hand tightly and only nodded curtly in reply. Amarantha chuckled eerily and threw her head back. “No need to be so sour Lucien. Its not like I took both of them.” 

Your mouth fell open and your body stiffened at her words, some rage deep inside of you bubbled to life and you stepped forward. Lucien pulled on your arm harshly, but the dark queen had already taken note. Her laugh grew louder and was joined by others in the crowd. 

“I suggest you keep your pet in line for the rest of the night, Vanserra. Or else she will suffer the same fate as you. Something tells me she wouldn't come out of that nearly as pretty as you did.” She hissed, sitting upright to sneer at you from her place. Lucien muttered something under his breath and pulled you closer to him. With a wave of her hand you were dismissed and the music picked back up as did those speaking.  

This was your hell. It was so far removed from the fanciful balls the Spring court hosted, so dismantled and eerie compared to the soft colors and voices of the revelry you had come to love. The lot of you drank and drank until it became some semblance of relaxing and tried your best to stray far away from the Night Court who’s members lurked about. 

“Why has Rhysand come alone?” Lucien whispered to Tamlin who’s gaze was trained on the mysteriously dark high lord. Tamlin grunted and leaned back against the column you stood around. 

“I was beginning to wonder that myself…” He replied, swirling the remaining liquid in his glass. As he tossed it back Amarantha stood upon her dias and cleared her throat. The music quieted immediately and the crowd fell silent. 

“A pity that the High Lords of Prythian enjoy wine.” She spoke. A confused mumble began in the crowd and the High Lords (Tamlin included) made their ways to the edge of the crowd. Lucien held your group back and watched them closely. 

“High Lord of Spring, I have prepared quite the task for you.” She purred, urging him forward. Tamlin stepped away from the crowd hesitantly, glancing backwards at Lucien who’s skin had grown pale. “Your refusal to my initial proposal was quite…disheartening but I feel as though my proposition can not be denied so easily this time.” 

The crowd was mumbling, a deep wave of confusion settling over the bodies there. You looked to Lucien, brows creased, he only shook his head and whispered something about explaining it later. 

“I invite the courts to try and leave, you will find it quite difficult.” Her eyes fell over the High lords who had gathered, and her smile was entirely predatory. “And I invite the High Lords of Prythian to draw from their magic.” 

Berron Vanserra attempted a flame. Once… twice… three times… and then began to scream. His shouts were joined by six others in no time and Lucien was pulling you backwards away from the gathering. 

“Lucien what is going on?” You sputtered, clutching your glass firmly in your right hand. Laurent had reemerged from wherever he had been and his face was flush, terrified. 

“I can't winnow.” 

“Neither can I…” Emir whispered hoarsely. 

“Me either. She spelled the wine.” Lucien ground out through gritted teeth. Your chest felt like it was caving in, all the air in the room seemed to cease to exist. Amarantha was speaking over the chaos, laying out Tamlin’s curse step by step. Your brothers were desperately trying to round up members of the Spring court who were rushing about in a panic. Your hands were trembling so hard that the dark wine it held was spilling over onto the white of your gloves. Lucien was staring at Tamlin with his mouth agape. 

“And if at the end of the 50 years you have not succeeded you will return to the mountain and take your place at my side. Your court will await you. You may take those that serve you but the rest shall stay.” Amarantha thundered over the crowd.

Your glass fell to the floor. Lucien whipped his head around to face you and saw the tears streaming down your face. Your parents were in here somewhere… your sisters… 

Lucien surged forward, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame. 

“Its okay Lamb… its okay she said those that serve him may go with him…” He spoke into your hair, desperately trying to calm you. He was looking for Tamlin, searching for his friend. There was a flash of blonde hair near the throne, but that could have been anyone. 

“I dont…” You looked to your brothers, a ship’s captain and a fledgling guard. They would be free to go. Lucien, an emissary, free to go. 

You…

What were you but the pretty little thing that hung off of Lucien’s arm? Were you nothing more than the pastel painted ghost which roved about the Manor’s halls when Lucien was away?

“I’d suggest you leave now, High Lord, 50 years only lasts so long.” Amarantha chidded, dismissing Tamlin with a  wave of her hand. “And the Lamb stays with me.” 

“Absolutely not.” Tamlin roared, held back from attacking her by two high fae males. She tsked and crossed her legs. 

“Now now…we wouldnt want any pretty little distractions running around now would we? Leave now or I’ll kill her.” She was growing impatient, tapping her long black nails against the arms of her throne as Tamlin cursed and raved. 

You had grown utterly still in Lucien’s arms. Laurent and Emir too had lost all color and movement. Tears welled in your eyes and you cut your gaze to Lucien who was staring at you wide-eyed and slack jawed. 

“Im not leaving you. I refuse.” He spoke, flexing his fingers against the sleeves of your dress. You were sure your heart was thundering out of your chest as he began to speak to your brothers, desperately trying to find a way to trade someone or do something. 

“Lucien..” You whispered, tapping his chest gently.

“What if I stay in her place? Or one of you?” 

“Lucien…”

“Perhaps if the three of us stay she will let her g-”

“Lucien.” You commanded now, drawing his face to yours with both hands pressed firmly against  his cheeks. His voice sputtered out and you watched as glossy tears dripped below the edges of his mask. “You have to go. Youve gotta take Tamlin and you need to leave.” 

“We arent leaving you, we-... we arent leaving you.” He sobbed, clutching your face between his own hands. “The three of us can stay- or me, but we arent leaving you.” 

But this was part of her curse. She had made her words extremely clear. You looked at your brothers and offered them a watery smile. They had done everything to protect you, your entire life they had sacrificed themselves for you. And it was your turn now.

Turning back to Lucien you swiped at his tears with your thumbs, “Whats 50 years when you live forever, hmm?” As the Attor began to seek out influential members of Tamlin’s court you pressed a firm kiss to your lover’s lips and leaned back to take in the details of his features that the mask allowed you to glance. 

“(Y/N)...” A leathery hand ripped his arms away from you. He began to thrash and scream, his curses swiftly joined by your brothers as they too were drug away. 

“It won't be that long, I swear it, Lamb.  I swear it.” He huffed as he struggled against them, you only let out a sob and tried your best to smile, let him remember a version of you that wasnt petrified and shaking. 

“I’ll wait for you forever if I have to Lucien Vanserra.” And you saw his heart break, saw his resolve crumble and his knees go weak as he was winnowed away by a wave of Amarantha’s magic. 

It wont be that long- I swear it. 

Turning to face the dias you held onto that promise as you made eye contact with Amarantha’s wolfish gaze. 

Whats 50 years when we live forever?

TAGS:

@brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @younxii @momlo @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @highladyofillyria @crimsonandwhiteprincess @purplevitagen @isthataknuck

[edupunkn00b]

Meus ex Machina, Ch. 3: Alone

Edited public domain image of two hands reaching for each other, lit in deep blue and neon green.

Prev - Alone - Next - Masterpost - [ AO3 ]

Logan is left alone in the Mad Lads HQ when the team leaves to battle Hesper. But first a peek at three years after they purchased the old Louisa May Alcott museum… -

2093, Concord, MA, USA

“When will they ever stop? When we teach them a lesson?”

Patton’s hot chocolate rattled against the pair of teacups set on either side of it, the force of the hand slapping the table shaking even the pictures on the wall. “Now, Kiddo,” Patton inhaled, exaggerating the movement and giving the pair a gentle smile. Let’s all take a—“

“No! I will not take a breath! And I will not calm down and wait for the Powerless running the government to follow the arc of progress or whatever pacifying bullshit—“

“Language!”

“Papa Bear, it’s alright…” Patton's oldest friend's voice was soft, soothing. He brushed his hand, pacifying or calming, it almost didn't matter at this moment. They couldn't all be frothing at the mouth. “Let him get it out.”

“This isn’t simply some phase I will get past!” He growled, jerking away from the other two. “We’ve been trying things your way for three years now and look where we are!” Arms flung out at his sides, he looked around their newly finished HQ. “We have to hide away behind a forest laced in tripwire because the only thing the Powerless know how to do is hate.”

He stood, shaking his head as he stared at the vidscreen, the latest atrocity playing out in full spectrum splendor. “Maybe it’s time we used our powers for real change and made them stop.”

2105 New Boston, MA, USA

The spiral stairs closed up the moment Silvertongue’s head cleared the opening and Logan was left alone in the cavernous main room. The orange warning lights slowly faded away, returning the room to its earlier almost sunny glow. After scanning the walls for any sign of the cameras he was certain would be active, he gave up. Perhaps Silvertongue might show him where they were. Or maybe even Patton.

He shuddered at the memory of that soft, teddy bear of a man with his hand raised, admitting he’d at least attempted to kill someone.

Who the fuck are you to judge, Sanders? You nearly slaughtered thousands.

Rising to his feet, he walked the perimeter of the room, moving the mech carefully between the wall and the high-backed sofa, then again, sidling past the large table. He peered down the hallways at either end of the room and through the doorway that led to a room filled with computer screens and what looked like several medbeds. Advanced, far more advanced than Logan had even seen at the research center at the University. 

White hot fire sizzled through his veins at the thought of his old school, burning away to a dusty, empty ash. His degree was his hope, his path out of the life his genetic lottery loss had cursed him with. Sagging in his suit, he tried to maneuver his way through the just-slightly-too narrow doorway but all he managed to do was nearly trap himself under the lip of the door.

Fuck if that wasn’t the way he wanted to be found when the super hero league showed up again.

Next he tried the hallways and, while they were wide enough, the ceiling dropped significantly in both directions. He would need to stoop-shuffle his way at least fifteen meters, with no way of knowing if there’d ever be room enough to stand. It didn’t matter if the elevators would fit his suit if he couldn’t get his suit to the elevators.

Unless he planned to live in the front room, he was going to need his chair to get around the base.

You’re talking like you’re planning to stay. 

He’d left the chair next to the big doorway. Stepping carefully, he approached the panel Silvertongue had shown him and freed his hand from the mech’s cavity. He told himself he was only testing the lock but when the door whooshed open, phantom muscles ached to run and leap outside. To pound against the grass and not look back.

Where would he go? Wanted by Abracadabra, wanted by the University. Unwanted anywhere else. Except… He looked around the room, the plate of chocolate chip cookies still sitting on the table. Unwanted anywhere else except here. The overgrown grass outside was still trampled from their path through the woods. Silvertongue had hiked six miles each way to fetch him.

Maybe it was worth finding out why.

He tapped the panel again and watched the door whoosh back down, hiding away the rest of the world, then he put his arm back in the mech and opened up his chair.

In his rush to get out of the suit, Logan had forgotten to crouch before beginning to climb out of the cavity. He only remembered once he’d completely extricated himself from the machine and hung from the mech’s clavicle. He panicked and his arm seized, fingers spasming into a useless claw before losing his grip and he fell to the mech’s feet with a thud.

Pain shot through his head and his back and he looked up from the floor just in time to see his suit tilt toward him. The piercing wail of the Abracadabra DC’s alarm system filled his ears and he cried out, covering his head with his remaining arm.  

But the Picker Bot just kept coming, looming over him, hands at the ready to tear and fold him into packing totes. Cold, heavy durasteel grazed his scarred head before the bot froze with a tooth-rattling clang.

When the bot remained still, , Logan uncovered his eyes and saw he was… safe. He’d managed to stay tucked in a tiny triangle of space between the bottom of the door and his mech, its shoulders pinned against the wall above. Shaking, he lay there for an unconscionably long time until he thought he could breathe. His back and his side ached, and his head throbbed. He reached up, tentatively tapping the growing lump at the back of his head. His hand came away wet.

Careful not to bump the mech and knock it out of its precarious position, he squirmed out from his pocket of safety and dragged himself over to his chair. He’d opened it up often enough on his own to be able to manage. He just… he hadn’t been quite so tired the last time he’d done it. By the time he’d wrangled the thing open, his face was drenched with sweat and he’d pinched two fingers in the folding mechanism.

Panting, he leaned against the open chair for a few minutes before pulling his way up and into the seat. Grateful for his remote mech controller, he set the device in his lap and slowly, slowly, slowly shuffled its feet forward until it stood properly. The battery was running low, but he managed to get it into a corner and down in a crouch, facing outward, to make it easier to climb into later.

The humiliation of having to ask one of the Fantabulous Four for help getting back into his mech was too much to even consider as an option.

When his breathing had finally slowed to a more measured pace, he turned his chair around and headed to the room with the medbeds. With any luck he could find some gauze or a wash kit or something for his head. The bleeding had stopped, but it had left his hair matted and gross. There wasn’t much to be done about his shirt, but it was likely none of them would even look closely enough at him to notice the dried blood at the back of his collar.

He puttered around the room but the space had been built for giants. Even Ultraviolet, the shortest of the Powered group, was at least a half a foot taller than Logan when he’d had his legs. In a chair, the equipment and shelves along the walls were hopeless out of reach. He scavenged what he could from the drawers below the sink and underneath the medbeds, finding a box of gauze pads and rubbing alcohol. Fortunately, he could reach the faucet itself, and the sensors actually registered his presence, instead of seeking out a face-shaped object at ‘eye-level.’

By the time he was done cleaning the gash at the back of his head, Logan was exhausted and cold, his now clean but wet hair dripping down the back of his neck. He’d lost track of exactly when they’d left, but he wasn’t sure how much more time he would have. Hunger called to him and he snagged his unfinished cup and three—three!—cookies from the common room. He ate one and wrapped the other two into a napkin for later. There wasn’t much else to do but pick a hallway and explore.

He finished his drink and tucked the cup between his thigh and the chair and rolled to the left. The corridor was long but wide, and his chair easily fit through, with enough space for someone to even walk alongside him. Doors dotted the hall, each closed, with a rectangular panel to the right of each. He touched the first one as he passed and the door slid open revealing stacks of linens and towels. The door opposite it held an assortment of electrical panels and switches, some sort of breaker room.

If the rows and rows of circuit breakers were all still active, the Powered’s facility was huge. Several banks were labeled with what one might expect, first floor lights, kitchen appliances… Three sections were marked as ‘med bay,’ and ‘computers.’ And one entire bank simply said ‘SECURITY! DON’T TOUCH! —V’

The entire left-hand panel was covered with red switches, each covered in a little plastic bubble in what Logan could only guess was an attempt to prevent accidental changes. Tiny LEDs blinked beside each switch, and additional wires ran out from the top of the panel and into an old-fashioned analog alarm bell drilled into the top of the cabinet.

Whatever the hell that controlled had to be important. 

Logan let the door close and began to roll away, but returned to the linen closet when he shivered again. Palming it open, he pulled out two thick towels. One he draped over his shoulders to absorb some of the water from his drippy hair, the other he partially unfolded and lay over his lap like a blanket.

He rolled further down the hall. The next door opened into a fitness center with impossibly large free weights and exercise machines, tumbling mats and bars. Despite the modern equipment, the sunshine streaming in through giant windows, the whole place was entirely too reminiscent of his physical therapy room back at the hospital.

When he was still struggling to regain his speech, the ‘therapists’ had simply talked over him like a piece of furniture, moving his arm and what was left of his thighs and left shoulder like some ragdoll. At least when the director was watching. When she wasn’t, they’d let him sit in his hospital wheelchair for the requisite hour and a half, waiting for an orderly to bring him back to his room.

Logan let the door close and moved on.

The final door didn’t lead to a door at all, but instead an elevator. ‘True to Janus' word, his chair fit nicely and, if he’d manage to find a way to get his mech suit to fit down the corridor, it would fit inside the metal and glass cage as well.

He rolled inside and turned around. Instead of a bank of buttons, there was simply another rectangular panel. Shrugging, Logan pressed his palm against it and the wall lit up with options. None were numbered, simply listing destinations. Giddy with choice, Logan read each one aloud. “Roof garden, observatory, swimming pool, tech lab, library…”

Well, all were labeled as destinations except for ‘Basement.’

Confident no-one would wonder what he might want with a visit to any of the other locations, Logan decidedly tapped Basement and held on as the elevator zoomed down, his stomach left somewhere in his throat, lights zipped past the glass compartment until, at last, the elevator stopped with a dull thud and the doors opened.

Hallway lights flickered to life as he rolled out, but there was no hum of electricity and, when he looked closer, the lights appeared chemical, illumination flowing and swirling brighter, following his path like those old-fashioned glow sticks he’d read about as a kid.

The corridor was much narrower here, still wide enough for his chair but certainly not wide enough for his mech. Without the hum of electricity, it was quiet, the ever-present whine of his own wheelchair’s motor almost deafening as it echoed against stone walls. The mortar between the stones was old, and Logan guessed it might have been part of the original house that had once stood in the place. Or he would have, had that strange elevator ride not taken him as deep as he suspected.

The first door he encountered opened to a small closet filled with bedding, cleaning supplies, and an enormous first aid kit. Besides the elevator, there was only one other door in the corridor, all the way at the end. A bit of light spilled out from a square window set in the door. 

And something was moving on it.

He rolled closer, still too far away to clearly see. Logan was still several feet away when something pounded against the door, rattling the window. He stopped his chair.

“Jannie?” a muffled voice called, scared, wavering. “Jannie! Is that you? No… Jannie? You said you’d come!”

Logan froze, afraid to breathe.

“Jannie? That’s not you. Where are you? I hear you, not you. Always not you. Just that one time, well sometimes. It’s so hard to tell the difference between your whispers and your visits, but there was that one time…” The man’s voice started babbling, the banging growing louder and faster. “Jannie! Jannie jannie jannie jannie jannie jannie…”

The banging matched the tempo of his words, each growing louder and more insistent.

“Jannie!” The voice bellowed and Logan rolled backwards, the narrow corridor without affordance to turn around properly. “Jannie! Jannie! Please! Why don’t you come back?” He rolled so fast he passed the elevator, slapping his hand against the panel. The door opened immediately and he rolled inside, the haunting voice echoing down the corridor.

“Come on, please,” he whispered to the deaf device, slamming his hand on the elevator controls and hitting ‘Medbay.’ “Please close, please close, please close…”

“Jannie…” One last, pitiful cry pierced through his chest as the elevator door slid closed and the compartment shot up to the main level. Logan rolled out of the elevator and into the hall, bumping into the far wall. His hand shook too much to properly control his chair and tears poured down his cheeks.

Who the hell had they imprisoned down there?

And was he next?

[sublieu]

𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙮

✖ -Hi its me! I'm here to both Send all my love To you (Hope my gf doesn't see this-) and ask for an Redson smut, it can be what ever you like bc youre good as hell at this shit! And sorry if i did some miss spelling- my first language isn't english - @zmzsnakes

wc - 900 words

cw - dubcon/noncon, hypnotism, interspecies [bull+snake], Fellatio [aka blowjob], little asphyxiation.

ref - ⚉ ⚆ ⚇

music - so high/Doja cat

copyright - "All quotes, wording and editing belong to ©sublieu 2022; do not attempt to claim, steal or copy this post as your own"

Redson was good with his hands; He created most if not every single tech that his parents owned. And he made good profit doing so by using his work to fix complicated machinery.

And today he would be visiting a new client of his, fixing the generator used to create items that he himself buys; Cogs, nails and the occasional helper bot or two, he's seen the work you've made and he couldn't be all the more impressed.

As he slows into your garage, he notices that you weren't there to greet him. A bit odd for sure but he ignores this as he wanted to hurry to his next appointment. Entering your living room through the door and going to the attic, where you worked.

Redson looks around in awe as he walks into the room, the room didn't smell of metal and rust. It smelt sweet, like baked cookies and toasted bread. Another red flag, he thought and hurries to look for your generator.

He struggles to find your generator through the dimly lit attic, unaware that you were right behind him, your tail making a slow rattling noise to mess with him whilst he peers around the room before flicking his finger to make a small light; Bouncing into your frame and falling on his back before sitting up.

"Mind telling me why the place is so dark?" He gruffs and stands up to brush off his clothes, staring right into your eyes as you hummed a rhythmic tune; Lulling him into a trance as you wrapped your tail around his waist, cooing him like a siren and leading him into your nest.

His mind was nowhere in sight, giggling like a child from a recent sugar rush as he rests on your chest. Making motions to kiss you by kissy face motions, which you eagerly obliged to. Gifting him sloppy kisses all the way to his collarbone and chest, most of them shaped into hearts by your [f/c] lipstick. Redson already getting a hard on from the constricted feeling of your tail wrapping around him.

He was so desperate for another taste, whining like a lonely pup as you coo and lie him down on your nest of pillows. Laying beside him and pulling down his pants and touching his boner as you litter his face with more kisses, your tail loosening to make him more comfortable.

His sweet whimpers rung as you stroke his cock, the slick sound of pre the only sound in the room alongside his moans. His shakey fingers clinging to your t-shirt to hide away from his pleasure, which you were not having; Slithering down to his pants and kissing the tip and wrapping your tongue around the base of his cock, causing his toes clenching in on themselves from the sensitivity.

Your mouth was so warm, drool seeping at the corners of your mouth as you sucked him down, squeezing and slightly biting to tease him even further as his hands tangled in your hair and tears running down his face the more he tries to resist and wake up.

But he didn't want to, if anything he wanted more. He wanted to be suffocated in pleasure but he had a job to do, but he just couldn't say no. Only broken moans and heavy gasps escaped his lips.

Your claws groped and handled his balls whilst your tongue worked in motion to give off the feeling he's thrusting and giggling when he starts begging for you to stop, only to run behind closed ears as your moans vibrated against his dick.

And he tries so hard not to cum, to not give you the pleasure and ego boost you wanted. But how can he not when your tongue worked magic on him. His hands having a mind of their own and holding down your head to limit your movements. Only slowing down just to ease his tension before overworking himself again.

Poor Redson, his cock throbbing and sore from denying his orgasm. His face red with blush and his eyelids heavy as he finally relaxed, letting his body ease up so he can cum; His hands still entangled in your hair however as he needs something to hold onto for balance.

Until he snaps, forcing his cock down your throat and almost choking you on his cum as his legs bucked and fidgeted. His whole body curling up around your face as you swallowed down *most* of his cum, some seeping through your mouth and onto his stomach before letting go with a pleasurable pop. Kissing the tip of his cock and slithering off for a washcloth and some water, giving him just enough time to run away and jump through your attic window; Checking his phone to see nearly 28 missed calls and 300 texts, most of them from Mk and Mei.

"They're not gonna believe me after this" He groans and starts his car before driving off. He may have to come over sometime.... Probably every other day.

©sublieu 2022; All rights Reserved

*part 2?*