#this fucking scene has cost me more tears than everything else

[inthiskingdomwewillendure]

And in that very moment, away behind in some courtyard of the city, a crock crowed. Shrill and clear he crowed, reeking nothing of wizardry or war, welcoming only the morning that in the sky far above the shadows of death, was coming with the dawn.

And as if in answer there came from far away another note. Horns, horns, horns. In dark Mindolluin's sides they dimly echoed. Great horns of the North wildly blowing.

Rohan had come at last. 4k

[dirtbra1n]

WAIT I FORGOT ABOUT KRISNIX VS WRIGHTWORTH

HI SUNNFISH it’s been eight days and I’m not getting any work done right now anyway. Ha ha ha ha. I’m gonna go dig up some of my nutjob krisnix hashtag #Posts

okay that done I’m actually gonna talk about wrightworth first. baby’s first yaoi probably It makes sense and it compels me.

really really beautiful thing about wrightworth is how many people go into the first ace attorney thinking that the prevalence of attorney yaoi is a result of typical fandom behavior and get blasted with the concentrated blast of shu takumi’s vision of how chronically strange normal guy phoenix wright decided to completely change the trajectory of his life for one of his boy best friends from the 4th grade. unnecessary feelings and its ramifications. miles edgeworth choosing death gate. the ugly ways phoenix does not cope with this, on account of his many issues. redacted hospital scene. sundry textual instances of phoenix’s well-adjustment re: edgeworth shot at the player point blank. miles edgworth That man… gate. wrightworth is so fucking much you guys……..

I do not see either of these two biting the bullet to establish a formally romantic relationship in any capacity until they are well into their thirties. they need to be extraordinarily strange at and about one another for decades on end and then elope on a thursday afternoon, which will not ease up the strangeness but will grant them various legal benefits. love wins! Longer post would talk about how and why they’re weird. but I need to talk ab

sunnfish when I tried the media tab first for collected krisnix miscellany I passed this and it made me cry laugh

I need to talk about krisnix

trying to pin down my deepest rooted beliefs is like pulling teeth. You know there was a time where apparently I saw nothing interesting about kristoph. I’ve become a better and weirder person in the meantime. it makes sense. it compels me. ha ha ha ha.

^ 2dirt2brain krisnix breakdown of december ’23. of which we’re all very aware I’m sure. kristoph wants control of the world around him and is as incapable of fulfilling that desire as any mortal man. phoenix has a lot more free time nowadays. regular dinners together. seven years. play hooky, get hooked. unkillable phoenix wright. you can’t fake an affection that long—seven years. come on, now. get back to the office after they take him in and slump a little. you ought to say, now or never, that you kinda like the guy.

you’ve (🫵 not him) got to know that phoenix wright is a hard as hell guy to know We’ve compared him to tashiro before sunnfish I know this. he doesn’t open up. clam shut tight of course I think we should give kristoph a paring knife to try and crack him open. just can’t trust him with knives bigger than that one.

like of course the psychosexual warfare is the main thing. but seven years together and zero reason to believe that the guy who cost you your attorneys badge would murder anyone means seven years of some of the heartiest insane appealing-directly-to-me Situation the world has ever, ever seen. some of this is psychosexual warfare. everything else is a secret worse thing.

I think flawed attorney and devastatingly loyal man phoenix wright should try to save kristoph’s life. bet you never thought you’d care this much about capital punishment, huh, phoenix?

also kristoph should be time looped

now considering the VS. statistically I trust more people with wrightworth because the sheer numbers go crazy. I trust myself and my friends with krisnix more however because krisnix is fundamentally custom built for me to chew on and bite into. two cakes. we should put edgeworth and kristoph in a cage match. I think they just WOULD NOT get along, separate from phoenix entirely. tear each other’s dicks off!!!!!

as a bonus here is a short list of things that remind me of krisnix

boris by lo-fang

that myth about a dog locking its jaws as it bites into you

magnet poem I spent actual hours laboriously stitching together whilst listening to kristoph’s solitary confinement theme

Also munchausen by proxy have I said that already

and of course the second bonus:

[beababoobies]

Why Won't You Talk to Me?

This has been cross-posted on A03! Feel free to check it out on there if you prefer the formatting.

Mari’s death scene from Basil’s point of view, in which Sunny, in his panicked and manic state, tries to talk to Mari, get her up.

She’s just - just asleep, right?

TRIGGER WARNINGS; Major Character Death, Slight Gore, Sunny trying to talk to Mari's corpse, Panic attacks & Mania.

Word Count: 1.3k, Angsty as hell.

“And - and I can’t fucking believe you would pull some shit like this, Sunny. You know how hard our friends worked to get you that fucking violin? Are you even-“

Mari slaps Sunnys face so he’s looking at her again. He’s crying and I can tell from all the way down here. I stare at the broken violin instead of everything that’s happening up the stairs to try and calm myself, but I can hear Mari slap him again. It hits hard and I can tell from the way Sunny whines softly. He isn’t crying verbally. There’s just tears streaming down his face, shining in the soft moonlight. Maybe I shouldn’t have come home after the park earlier than everyone else. Maybe I shouldn’t have let myself in like I always do.

“You are - you are beyond, beyond fucking selfish, Sunny. That will cost a fortune to replace, not - not to even fucking mention that our Recital is in exactly two fucking days. You haven’t practiced - why won’t you look at me? Please! I’m - I can’t, I’ve been practicing for months on this piece.”

She’s nearly pleading with him, but I look up to see that he’s looking down the stairs at the broken violin. I don’t think he can even see me in the shadows, lurking without a word. I can’t turn around and run, because they’ll hear the creaking of the old kitchen floorboards. I can’t stay still like this, because that’s - that’s weird, right? But god, I want to run, I want to scream. I’m frozen.

“Sunny I swear to god, if you don’t look at-“

And then it happens. She lets out a scream of horror as she tumbled down the stairs backwards, Sunny screams as he realizes what he just did. But he couldn’t have, because - it was dark. He didn’t realize how close the stairs were, and he didn’t - he didn’t mean to push her -

The tumbling stops and there’s a crunch when she lands on the already broken violin. She’s doesn’t scream. She doesn’t whine in pain, she doesn’t even move. I’m still frozen, and Sunny is looking down the stairs frozen in horror. Mari’s hair is covering her face and she looks like a martyr, nearly angelic bathed in a perfect pool of moonlight, her new white fall dress perfectly draped over her unmoving body.

There’s soft footsteps down the stairs, shaking and I can hear Sunny’s sweaty palms squeak against the wood railings, like he’s holding onto them for dear life, terrified to do to himself what he just did to his sister. He’s barely moving, foot down on one step, then the other on the same step. He’s not looking at Mari, either, he’s staring at the steps as if they were to fall right under him at any given second.

By the time he reached the ending, he falls to his knees next to Mari. It’s an unforgiving and unforgettable sight, both of their pitch black, pin straight hair over their faces, and you couldn’t tell what either of them were thinking. Or if one of them was even having thoughts anymore. I shiver slightly but I’m hidden by the darkness, watching Sunny drown in the suffocating lake of light.

He starts by shakily calling out to her. Gently putting his hand on her shoulder. No response. His voice gets more desperate, louder, and you can hear him start to tear up. His voice gets more clogged and he’s sniffling softly. There’s a moment where the tension in the air almost snaps. I can feel the chokehold that it has on me be gone in an instant and I nearly wheeze.

“Mari you’re too tired, right? Gotta get you to bed.”

Sunny says with a smile, a terrifying one, one of a predator after licking its jaws clean of its prey. Tears in his eyes have stopped. It’s terrifying, a terrifying state of denial that not even I have ever found myself in. Watching him softly sweep her hair out of her face, starting to drain of the colour, making her look uncanny, terrifyingly cold.

“Mari, you need to get up, I don’t know if I can carry you all by myself, big sister… I know you’re super sleepy.”

He says with a small laugh, like he was telling a joke, a whim, and I watch him softly shut her eyelids with his fingertips. She’s nearly ethereal, a pure being that can no longer do any wrong. Our dear friend Mari, who brings us picnics and sits by the blanket because of her bad knee. Our dear friend Mari, who must’ve tripped down the stairs with her new knee brace, clumsy old Mari. It’s too late for our dear friend Mari, may she rest in peace. I feel like I’m sitting in front of her gravestone.

“Mari, come on, wake up, Mari! Hero - hero is gonna be back soon, you know how you like to get all dressed up whenever he comes around…”

He paused, grabbing her limp hand and cradling it in between his warm ones. I can tell by the way he flinched when he grabbed it that it’s getting cold. Mari, her warm and warn down hands from playing the piano for hours a day, making her famous chocolate chip cookies, holding our hands and rubbing our backs to comfort us. Mari, her cold hands falling to the floor with a soft thud as Sunny lets it fall to the ground.

“And- and Aubrey. You know how you promised to dye your hair with her? And - and Japanese hair is so hard to dye, mom said so! so you - you should probably start bleaching it now, because, because it’s gonna take a while. You wanted blue, right? We can do blue. Me and Kel can go to Hobeez as soon as he gets back. Get their - get their panicked manic at home hair dye. Just for you.”

He says, and he says it in such a normal way I flinch. Because he’s talking to her like she’s about to nod and send him down to othermart with a shopping list and big smile. Mari, mari and her beautiful thick black hair. Her hair that she lets Aubrey braid, her hair that has held so many of my flower crowns, despite how the leaves can fall off and get tangled in her hair. Mari, who’s hair is nearly a blue in this light.

“Kel! Kel, speaking - speaking of Kel, you know, we got him this new video game for his birthday. His birthday, just the day after our recital. It’s going to be so great to see his reaction to it, right? Just, just his big goofy smile, and you - you and Hero can even run of while me and Aubrey and Basil watch him play it, yeah?”

He says with a soft breathy chuckle when he mentions Hero. He says it like he’s about to help her set up the dinner table so we can all have dinner together, like normal. Mari, Mari who reassures Kel when she sees how he feels at Hero’s golden child treatment. Mari, the only one who’s ever looked past Kels walls of happy-go-lucky kid to sit down with him and ask him about how he’s doing. Mari, who I'm not sure has the time to do that any more. Mari, who I don’t think has any time left.

“And after, after we do that, Basil can lend you his camera again! You know how you love stealing his camera to take those pretty pictures of us? Like the - the ones he takes when we’re not looking? You’ve taken so many good pictures of us when we’re not even looking.”

He swallows thickly when he mentions me. I can’t help it anymore, I fall to my knees and cover my mouth with my hands at the mention of my name. His gaze immediately shoots to me, like a deer in headlights. His eyes are darting around between me, Mari and the door. Mari, Mari who would immediately run to me and ask me what’s wrong. Mari, Mari who Sunny turns to with a grin.

“Basil! Mari - Mari is really tired, see? Can you help me, b-bring her to bed?”

[stuckasmain]

Trick or treat- songs meaning and possible over analyzing

Another thing I love about the movie is it’s kick ass soundtrack and that all the songs go along with whatever is happening on screen. For example “get tough” plays while Eddie confronts the bullies during the first revenge act or “Tear down the walls” while he literally tears all the posters off of his walls in a fit of teenage angst. It’s just a fun element that movies just don’t do- mainly because everyone gets popular songs instead of making a score and soundtrack but that’s a whole other conversation for another time.

Now I’ve made it no secret that Sammi lives rent free in my head after watching this movie and I’m making it everyone else’s problem. For a horror movie antagonist, he actually does get quite a lot of character especially with what few lines he actually gets. However, like always , I tend to dig way to deep into what we have to do character study and I think his pivotal song actually gives a LOT about him away.

Shocking Halloween performance-

Ok so hopefully we’re all in agreement that the song fucking rules but besides that… I think the song reveals the things the movie forgot to touch on after introducing them fairly over on. That beating Faust and that he “believes his own hype”

Maybe you'll see

Someone's put a spell on me

These lyrics repeat multiple times in the song and I think it’s basically a call for help without being a call for help. A clear “I’m not entirely in control of my actions here”, as later in the number when he starts firing lightning in the crowd it’s not started intentionally. It is going to hard on a solo, losing control. Lost in the music ™️ only after does there start to be intent. However Sammi seems much more intent on having a captive audience than a crispy one.

This is where I bring up Faust as it’s literally the first fucking few lines on the movie. Are directly ripped from a poem or production then it’s never once brought up again? And it is not referring to Sammi and Eddie as Ed 100% has free will here. The moment things turn deadly he drops the friendship and fights against him. Sammi on the other hand… oh dies in a random hotel fire and kid has satanic ritual related dreams? Oh yeah. Everything we learn through the TV special and Nuke points to Sammi being a wild child, publicity and fan obsessed rocker. I can see and he likely did Cut a deal with at least something - to be able to play and be popular forever. At the cost of his soul.

Rock and roll

Rockin' on a midnight

Take control

Sammi isn’t personally interested in souls at all. From every other scene the only people he kills are assholes or anyone against him. He’s a revenge kill kinda guy not a bunch of randos at a party guy- ESPECIALLY loyal fans. I think the party scene was probably on the demonic side , using him to fill a quota. As getting out of owing his soul by Eddie bringing him back means something, someone is die to take his place. He wants control. He wants fans- practically a army. He wants the stage! Hocus Pocus so got the captive crowd inspo from this Lmao.

His motivations are to spread his last album so he can’t be destroyed, to get revenge, and to play forever. I’m by no means saying he’s a “good” guy or that he wouldn’t kill if he had a choice… as we see him get several personal kills in/people who are in his way. Just that, there’s something else at play besides him during this scene particularly/he doesn’t kill without reason(flimsy reason but reason).

Final chase-

Firstly After midnight is basically “hee hee hoo hoo I’m gonna get you” but a song. It’s kinda hysterical. As fastway’s music is Sammi’s in universe so imagine efnodehioefhdeioheduhdjoi just singing as he goes after you. I can’t.

Gonna hunt you through the night, yeah

You got it

I want it

Pretty soon he's gonna change his tune now

Something about “he’s gonna come back to my side. I know he’s gonna. He has to.” Man give it up - Eddie’s not.

“Hee hee hoo hoo I’m going to get you and shock you” he’s a massive dork actually.

Conclusion-

I just think it’s much more interesting because he has personal motives and a lust for power but it’s at a pass with him owing his soul and the interest of the higher power he owes it to. How he’s forced to act outside of his own wants. Infinite power and a plan and he’s forced to do work instead of what he wants- which is at conflict with his anti man image etc. Like how he wants an audience, fans, praise etc and Hell wants a replacement for his dodging. I’m hoping this makes sense

[huenjin]

just wanna be loved.

pairing: hyunjin x reader | bff2l!au, pornstar!au, lawyer!au

word count: 4.512 words.

tw: pornstar!hyunjin, mentions of alcohol, nsfw content — dick piercing!hyunjin, dom!hyunjin, porn shooting [mutual masturbation, blow job], making out, office sex, blow job, hand job, mouth fucking, deep throating, a lil ball play, just a lil, facial, fingering, clitoral stimulation. establishment of fwb relationship !! reader is super heartless !! and hyunjin must be protected at all costs !!!

music rec: can you hold me | nf

note: pt ii. of the pornstar!hyunjin series. read pt i. here. it's finally here and it has a plot. thank you for convincing me to make this into a series, i'm grateful and i hope you enjoy this as much as i did writing. unedited, like every other work of mine.

hyunjin swears to god that he has been at the very brim of snapping at the next person he sees.

see, hyunjin is a very patient person, usually. very very patient. but with how you are ignoring his calls blatantly, his head spirals out of control. it is the pent up frustration of being forgotten even temporarily by you that gets him on the verge to snap.

and not even his hands moving frantically up and down his dick before the woman in front of him as she touches herself to the sight of a naked man masturbating — lights hitting off the piercings to make the angles sharper as the camera pans out from his hands wrapped around his cock to the scene before them — is enough to get this anger to fuel down.

how dare you ignore him after everything that went down? after him saying he doesn't want to lose his friendship, after him saying you're the one person in his life that he cherishes the most?

his hand moves quicker and the woman crawls forward. her hand is still covering her core as her fingers plunge deep into her, the squelching sounds so loud to hyunjin's ears. she sticks her tongue out only to lick small stripes at the head of his cock, her tongue circling around his piercings.

hwang hyunjin is usually a calm person but the very thought of this woman not being you, is more than enough to anger him today.

the black hair he now dons is slick with sweat and sticks to his forehead. you should have noticed that. he storied it on instagram, for fuck's sake, just to get your attention and what does he get in return? nothing. usually, you would tease him over his poor scalp, or tell him that he looked good. this time, however, he gets dirty silence and he knows he is to be blamed.

hyunjin rubs his cock from the base as the woman wraps her lips around the head, tongue lapping every single drop of precum from that oozes out from him. not that porn ever subjected him to fantasise about the woman before him, his mind automatically shifts to you.

and god, were you beautiful that night under him. it's your breasts that come into his head first, the way your hands trailed over them and played with them before him. the way you begged for him. the way you were his even if it were just a night.

and that's enough to bring him close. you are enough to break down hyunjin completely and leave him defenseless. he ruts into his hand and the woman moves further down, taking hyunjin more as he gasps.

hyunjin signals at the director and he calls for a cut. the woman takes him out from his mouth and he comes undone in his hand. he spills all over his hand messily, spilling it on to his stomach and his thigh. the staff members rush into the scene — to help hyunjin clean himself up and to his co-star with a good amount of fake cum lube that she fills her mouth with for the next take.

maybe hyunjin did ruin a friendship. he should bear the consequences rightfully.

but not until he hears it from you. hyunjin needs to hear it directly from you.

that is what leads hyunjin to your law office — kim and chang — right after his shoot. the sun has set and he knows you would be done with work for the day hopefully, unless you took up even more pro bono cases to keep yourself busy. at least this is what hyunjin keeps saying in his head to justify you ignoring him.

he has been here before and he knows exactly where your office is. hyunjin used to brag once upon a time about being a very level headed person, about how he wants what he wants. that's what made him take this whole pornstar path as he studies law at the same time. he wants to work here in seoul's biggest law firm, with you. the path to that, however, is a tough one (and an expensive one) and he knows. but if there is one thing hyunjin knows, it is that time is a bitch.

and time is such a huge bitch that hwang hyunjin walks in to your office exactly when seo changbin, your boyfriend, breaks up with you.

(not that he wasn't expecting it. just that he hoped it were already done and that it was you dumping seo's shitty arse.)

"we can't do this anymore, y/n. you and i," he sighs, "we're not compatible. you're broken and—"

"hate to break in between," hyunjin clutches the wooden door of your office room tightly, anger seething through him as soon as he heard the word you and broken in the same sentence. "but, don't pin your inefficiency on the girl, man."

"excuse me?" seo changbin looks like he got slapped on his face. hyunjin's eyes flickers momentarily towards you — your delicate figure holding the wooden edges of your table in disbelief, and he knows you — you who would normally do a good job defending as a lawyer, would do a pathetic job right now defending your honour because you loved seo changbin once upon a time and your heart could never set you upto that again.

"i said what i said, dude," hyunjin walks in to the office completely. he leaves the door open, wider than before almost as if he is signaling changbin to walk out, that this is not his place for him to walk and do what he wants, that you are your own individual and you deserved so much better — someone who would love you for the most perfect being you are in his eyes (albeit that being not him as much as he wishes it could be).

changbin drifts his gaze from the man to you and asks, "were you dating someone else while you were with me?"

"hyunjin is not someone else, binnie," you bite your lower lip. "and no, i was not. this breakup involves just the two of us. we don't need a third person involved to ruin what we had. the two of us were enough to burn it down into ashes."

"i'll see you tomorrow then," changbin shuffles the balance on his feet, looking uncomfortably at you and shooting hyunjin a look filled with disgust. "are you looking at some pro bono cases and staying overtime? i told you—"

"you don't have a tag anymore to tell me anything, changbin. so drop it. i'll do what i have to do." your voice is ice cold and even hyunjin, a third person in this whole scene, feels the shudder run down his spine.

changbin drops his shoulders in defeat and merely mumbles, "let's get along well, y/n. we are colleagues after all," before leaving your office. you take a step back, chest steadily rising and falling and you lean against your office table, your grip on it strong.

and if there is one thing that can make him forget everything — his emotions, his well being, his sanity — it is you. the very sight of you hurting with all the built up emotions from what just happened makes hyunjin forget the anger of being forgotten.

all he wants to do at this point is be there for you.

he looks at your quivering figure, head down and he knows your eyes are probably brimming with the tears you are trying to hold back. your knuckles are pale at how hard you are holding the table and hyunjin hates how another man just hurt you right before him.

hyunjin carefully takes a step forward, mumbling, "do you want a hug?"

you nod, your head down and your gaze on your feet firm on the tiled floors of your office. you can hear the soft foot steps of your best friend getting louder with every millisecond before his arms wrap around your figure and he is pulling you into his warm chest, humming the tune you are so familiar with from him. his embrace is warm, and his big, strong arms seemed very protective when wrapped around your frail body. the world around you melts away as you squeezed him back, not wanting the moment to end.

and you sob. soft coughed up sobs that you tried so hard to hold it in but it was all useless. the minute hyunjin's arms wrapped around you, you let lose and unhinged. it was always like that.

because hyunjin was like an anchor to you. he was the anchor to steady your capsized boat in the storms. he didn't necessarily have to also be the lighthouse but for you, hyunjin being the anchor was more than enough right now.

"i'm not going to apologise for ignoring you, hwang," you mumble into his chest as hyunjin pats your head gently. you pull away after a second more and lean back against the table. you look down for a short while before turning back and grabbing the green bottle of soju, half empty, and chugging it down your esophagus.

hyunjin's eyes widen and he's about to stop you when you're all done and have slammed the bottle down on the table, cheeks heating up in the effect of what hyunjin would seem is the trick of the light.

hyunjin has seen you twice in the span of two weeks and both the times you were drunk, not to the level of passing out and waking up with a hangover — the two of you were not kids anymore for that — but still intoxicated enough to magnify every intense emotion you felt within you.

and if it were lust and validation the last time, this time it was the angst of putting up with a man trashy enough to now have the tag of your ex.

"can you get me—"

"use me."

"what?"

hyunjin bites his lower lip before tugging away at the dead skin in nervousness. he runs a hand through his black hair, on which your eyes unhelpfully linger for a second more than usual. he takes a step forward and repeats with strong affirmation, "use me, y/n. you're good at it. you're good at using people. that's what makes you an insanely good lawyer. you know who to keep close, who to get attached to and what to get from them. so i insist, use me as anything as you want. i'll be your best friend, your punch bag, your comfort, your drinking buddy, your anything. just—" he gulps, before locking his gaze with yours, eyes almost shining as if they held stars behind his irises. "just use me."

there is a small part in you that is deeply offended by the words that come from his mouth; by the words he so carelessly managed to throw around without bothering to think about how it would affect him. but the magnified, intense emotion to want to stop thinking, have the oxygen supply to your brain cut off for just a while to rid you of all the thoughts is higher.

"i—"

"do you not want to? of course i do understand—"

"shut up," you groan and the next thing your body prompts you to do is grab his wrist, pull him closer, turn around and pin him against your office desk as you kiss him, lips crashing against his and moving as if he was exactly what you needed after a rough day.

hyunjin doesn't exactly remember when and where things started going down the hill. you were his best friend. you are his best friend and yet best friends don't kiss. best friends don't fuck and for sure, best friends don't tell the other to use them only for them to knock the living lights out of them with a kiss that slips consciousness out of him.

hell be damned, he wasn't even sure if he was dreaming right now, but there was a raw emotion in the way you kissed him and in the way you leaned upwards slightly to curl your fingers in his hair and tug at it as you angled the kiss, lips moving against his in a separate emotion altogether.

best friends definitely do not do this.

you part your lips and feel hyunjin washing over like a wave of warmth, curling your toes, unfurling all your senses as the taste of him nearly silenced all thoughts. exactly as you wanted him and if his taste was what blocked everything, you needed more.

your whole body tingled, the feel of his frame leaning on yours further as his arms wrapped around yours feels nearly forbidden. you pull back, breath uneasy and gaze wavering at your best friend and you know he's what he is — insatiable as fuck. hyunjin pulls you in, claiming your mouth again, hungry and intense, until your knees almost give in. by the time you are aware of your own fingers, they had already slipped under his shirt, his skin smooth and radiating heat.

you pull back, chest rising frantically and you grip his white shirt tightly, yout hand soaking in the warmth of his body as you let go of his shirt and your fingers play with the edges of his pants.

"fuck my mouth," you say quickly, before kneeling down, unbuttoning his pants, looking upwards for a sign of approval and hyunjin's breath hitches. what ever would the porn he stars in account to when you are a whole fucking porn on legs?

"are you sure? i mean, i could give you an or—"

"later. stop overthinking everything," you sigh. "we'll do that later together. now can i or should i stop?"

hyunjin's hand moves down messily to unzip his pants and your lips curve upwards as you look at the man being reckless. he pulls his pants down in a rush along with his boxers only for his half erect cock to hit his stomach slightly before presenting itself to you.

when hyunjin fantasised about having your mouth wrapped around his cock earlier that day, he definitely didn't expect it this soon. but here you were, before him on your knees, taking his hardened dick in your hands as you spit on his shaft and move your hands over it slightly. it is probably the emotions and the feelings he holds for you that get him to harden and grow further in your grip and your eyes widen before you look away.

your thumb rubs against the frenum piercings — three consecutively to make a small ladder arrangement and you gasp. this must feel insane when he fucks your mouth — just as good as it did when he fucked you hard weeks back.

you look back up at him, hand moving around his shaft a little more rigidly and you tell him, "the black hair suits you better. fuck, you look like sex with that so, keep it," and you take his head into your mouth before hyunjin could say anything. he stutters, hand gripping the table tightly as you hollow your mouth and take him, tongue rolling against the metal balls on the underside of his cock.

"f-fuck," hyunjin gasps, head rolling back as you take more of him into your mouth, sucking on it lewdly. "your mouth feels so good, y/n, oh my—" and he moans so loud that you find yourself dampening your panties with your own arousal. hyunjin has pretty, pretty moans. it's deep, guttaral and makes you want to emit more of those from his pretty lips.

you take him out of your mouth, kissing the head, sucking at it with just your lips. you kiss him down his shaft, tongue lapping against the frenum piercings a little longer than you should and hyunjin knows by now for sure — you love his piercings.

"wow, you're getting harder," you gasp as you lick the precum from the head of his shaft before licking up from the base of his cock to the very top. you suck a little more of just his head, so delectable and angry, and hyunjin groans, hand finally leaving the table to hold your hair strongly.

"don't tease, y/n," and his voice is so strong that you can't help yourself but take him finally into your mouth, hollowing as much as you can as you slowly take him completely in your mouth and hyunjin releases a series of swear words laced with your name in the middle.

it's the sight of you in your formal shirt and pencil skirt, so prim and proper and yet you are taking him in your mouth, emitting such lewd sounds that it's pornographic. it's the way he feels you taking him in as deep as you can to get used to his length and girth. it's the way he see you slip your fingers secretly into your panties to rub your clit. it's the way you occasionally look at him from below, with tears in your eyes as you take him as deep as you can, choking on his cock.

if he were to pinpoint one, hyunjin could never. he would hold every single reason responsible for him to grip harder on your head and to thrust into your mouth just as you asked from him.

"you wanted this, right?" he groans, harshly, voice octaves deeper. "wanted my big fucking cock down your throat just to make you dumb and make you forget about everything. you wanted me to fuck your mouth so hard and to shoot my cum down your throat."

hyunjin's cock is heavy and warm on your tongue. he thrusts into your mouth and your right hand shovestwo fingers deep into your sopping core at the exact same time, trying to match his pace. the tears stream down from your face and all you can think is how good you feel being fucked like this, to have hyunjin's cock in your mouth. your jaw begins to ache from the constant task of fitting his fat girth into your mouth, but the feeling of him sliding against your tastebuds — the metal balls dragging against your wet tongue — and battering the back of your throat makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. hyunjin's grip on your hair is stronger to position your face and yet you release another moan, the vibrations rolling against his cock as his hips snaps forward to push his cock deeper.

the gags that leave your mouth is loud, the wet drippings leaking along with the sputtering afters of precum from the side of your mouth and staining your white shirt. your panties are soiled with how hard and fast you plunge your fingers in to bring you close.

"oh god," hyunjin's grip loosens on your hair for a bit before he continues thrusting into your mouth lightly. "god, i could fuck your mouth all night long and then fuck your cunt even harder." he grabs a fist full of your hair to hold you down before he goes back to thrusting harder into your mouth.

"eyes on me, baby. i'm going to shove my dick down your throat, okay?" he says. you quickly nod, your thumb rubbing your clit harshly and then he shoves you down his length and holds you still. you can feel his dick at the very back of your mouth as you choke on it, tears spilling messily down your face and ruining your makeup. hyunjin counts slowly, "five. four. three. two," and he slowly lets go, "one."

you gasp, breathing in as much air as you can as he takes his dick out, "that's my good girl. so good for me. now let me fuck your mouth again, oh good lord."

he holds your jaw with his other hand, pressing slightly in an attempt not to hurt you more as he holds your hair with the other. hyunjin angles your face up to look at him. your eyes are watery, makeup ruined and may the fury of the hells be with him, but he would sin and fornicate a twenty times more if this is the sight before him. you've ruined hyunjin for every other girl now and you don't even realise it.

hyunjin's hips begin to stutter soon, losing their tempo has he chased his orgasm. how ironic that he asked you to use him and yet here you were letting him use you in turn. his grip on your hair tightens as he feels it tightening in him. the room is filled with nothing but the sound of his balls slapping against your chin, muffled moans coming from your stuffed mouth and rapid panting from him.

hyunjin's breathing hitches and you remove your fingers from your cunt. it is sticky and coated with your arousal as you reach out to use the same hand to hold his balls. hyunjin gasps, holding your head a little stronger as you play with it when he fucks your mouth.

"fucking killing me," he grunts. "you're fucking killing me, y/n." you press your tongue flat as hyunjin finally drags his cock out. you gasp heavily, mouth sore and aching and vision blurry. however, all you can think is of rolling your numb tongue against his metal piercings and you do the very same, tugging at it occasionally.

“fuck, y/n!” he grunts out, trying to hold out a loud moan. his hips still surges forward to hit the bridge of your nose. you wrap your hands around his cock, feeling him become even more rigid in your grip. your rub his length as quick as you can till his dick quivers and hyunjin repeats under his breath, "i'm going to come, i'm going to come, i'm goi— fuck!"

hyunjin comes undone on your face. white spurts leaving his cock and coating your cheeks and your chin only to drop down onto your blouse and stain it further and it is a sight to behold. seeing you covered in his cum, almost like he was marking you, is enough to make him go hard again. your eyes are wide as he spurts his release on your face and the side of your neck and it's all so messy and hot that it has you leaving your mouth open unknowingly.

his brown eyes take in the sight of your swollen pink lips, cheeks tinged red and covered in tears and spit, and now his cum. hyunjin feels his cock twitch slightly as a pang of arousal shoots through his body again. but he has to ignore that. you are worn out and he needs to attend to your needs now that he knows you just gave him one mind blowing orgasm and in return hasn't had any.

hyunjin is about to lift you up when you hold his wrist, tongue jutting out to lick all the cum by the side of your lips, taking in as much as you can with your tongue and hyunjin gulps at the sight, his adam's apple bobbing oh so visibly.

"i have a proposition," you say. your voice almost sounds like something grating against the sand paper and hyunjin can't help but feel proud (as worried as he is). he listens to you as he squats down to maintain eye contact with you.

"oh?" he raises his eyebrows at you and you nod. hyunjin is trying his best to focus on you and your words and not how his come is on your face, marking you up to him as his.

"let's be friends with benefits."

and that was enough for him to focus back on your words. his feet is firm on the floor as he asks, "what?"

"it's a win-win situation, clearly. i need you for many reasons." you lift your hand up to count. "a) you're my best friend and i value this friendship a lot." hyunjin scoffs and you choose to ignore it as you continue, lifting another finger up, "b) you're the only one who has made me come and i need orgasms and validation. you give me both. we'll be exclusive and the minute you want to date someone, we break this off."

hyunjin feels his chest heavy. why are you making this so much harder? why are you jeopardizing everything? he doesn't know if this arrangement would be for the better or for the worse but after giving him the best orgasm he has had in a while and with all the oxytocin streaming in his blood veins, he knows his decision could account for all his miseries turning from unrequited love to rejection.

"and?"

"c) i haven't been able to explore much sexually, changbin being my first and everything and i want you to teach me as much as you know with your experience," you lift the third finger before closing them all and looking at him with nothing but hope.

"come again?"

"that's the plan," you laugh at your own joke to calm the uneasy tension in the room. "but it's true. that was the first time a guy has fucked my mouth or deep throated me and i fucking loved it."

hyunjin gulps visibly, his dick hardening and you look down at it. "you know you can say yes," you mumble as you desperately shift your gaze back at your best friend. "please? you could teach me how to come on my own."

"what's in it for me, y/n? every single point you said benefits you more than it does for me." hyunjin sits down, bringing his knees closer to him as he wraps his arms around it.

"you told me to use you. isn't that the whole point of using someone? i'll be benefited more than you will ever be. you can't go back on your words now."

hyunjin thinks the word heartless and yet again you were not. the proposition was seemingly harmless, but it sounded all like a big hazard signal to him because he has feelings for you that you are so clearly not aware of.

the thing with being so whipped for a person, to be so wrapped around their finger that all one can think of is them? you do anything for them, anything to make them happy. that's how stupid love makes one. that's how crazy love has made hyunjin, because as much as he is at a disadvantage, he can't help.

"alright. let's be friends with benefits."

and hyunjin knows that it is his heart that will break in the end. but at the very least, it will only be his.

[litsetaure]

I need to talk about this scene. Initially, I thought that Gellert just slipped up and blew his cover; he got caught up in what was happening that he forgot himself. You can almost sense it; the Aurors are thinking ‘wait, what?’ Mind you, if this is the point where the MACUSA (and, for that matter, Newt) realised that something was not right, I have some serious questions about what exactly actual Percival Graves was like! It really does say a lot about Graves that the first time they realized that Graves probably wasn't Graves until that speech that basically overturns what they thought he believed on the Statute of Secrecy. Not to mention that sentencing Newt and Tina to that creepy as fuck death penalty didn’t raise any alarms at all!

But then, I thought about the context. If I recall rightly, this scene is directly after Credence has apparently been killed. Obviously, come the second film, we know that’s not true, but as yet, no one else does. And I started to wonder - did Gellert actually slip up? Or did he intend to reveal himself? Had he just had enough and decided to tell ‘his’ colleagues the truth?

I mean, if you listen to him speaking - initially, he doesn’t really sound just angry. Maybe a little bit, but to me, he sounds more sad and frustrated. Especially at the start with the line ‘Madam President…I ask all of you. Who does this law protect?’ It might be his accent, but to me, he sounds like he’s on the verge of tears. His cause is something very important to him and he just witnessed what he thought was a murder of a boy who had a condition that was in no way his own fault. And that would strike a chord within him. Because he’s seen it before with Ariana Dumbledore. A young person suffering from a condition that was in no way her fault, but which kept her trapped and hidden away because of a law that would see her taken and locked away by a draconian Ministry, under the guise of keeping the wizarding community safe and secret.

And it frustrates and hurts Gellert. He doesn’t blow his cover here because he got sloppy. He effectively revealed himself, because he’s had enough of hiding. He wants these people to understand what’s at stake. To see that the law they value so much is only hurting them and others like them. And why is it their obligation to hide? They’re not shameful. They’ve done nothing wrong. Are they really to be condemned to live in secret and fear because of something they can’t control and to protect people who lash out at what they don’t understand?

Yeah. He’s not really angry, or not just angry. He’s just done. Done with all of this bullshit. He knows the damage the statute can do. It denied Percival Dumbledore the right to tell his side of the story (out of fear for his daughter) and ripped him away from the family who needed him. It destroyed Albus’ chance for a future. It also ultimately cost Kendra and Ariana their lives.

And even if he hasn’t initially given away enough to tell everyone who he is, he’s told enough to make it clear which side he’s on. He’s not stupid. He had to know that some people there may have suspected who he was, or at the very least a follower of Gellert’s, and he just turns his back on them after that speech that basically confirms which side of this conflict he's on, if nothing else. And he just turns his back and walks away (in disgust), like it's no big thing. Like there aren't AT LEAST 30 Aurors and President Picquery at his back, and also Newt Scamander and his trunk full of creatures (and Dumbledore's man). That is one hell of a bold power move. He’s saying ‘I know what I’m revealing to you here and I don’t give a shit what you think. I’m done hiding away. I’m not going to tolerate this law that condemns and harms us. I’m going to fight it with everything I have. If you want to attack me and fight me, that’s fine. I’m up for it. I’m not giving up. Do your worst.’

Also, if you watch the fight, it’s pretty typical of what we know of Gellert in a fight. He’s got virtually the entire MACUSA ready to take him down (and he also does not look remotely worried by this, rather he’s thinking ‘okay, fair enough. Do your worst’) but, when they’re firing at him, it looks as though he never casts a single attacking spell. He only appears to be using shielding charms. Damn powerful ones, yes, but shield charms nonetheless. And that’s very similar to what we see and hear of how he fights. He never attacks first. The threeway duel? Aberforth drew his wand first. The fight at the rally? The Auror attacked first, killing the red-haired witch. And here - he knows the Aurors intend to take him down. In such a situation, you have the right to protect yourself - which he does, with the shield charm. But, again, he doesn’t appear to attack them.

And yet, with only shielding charms, he more than holds his own until Newt sends out the bird. That is INCREDIBLY impressive in and of itself. But it’s even more impressive because of one small detail.

The wand he’s using is not the Elder Wand. It’s (I assume) Percival Graves’ wand. Which means Gellert is doing all this badassery with a wand that is not actually his own, either simply because it didn’t choose him in the first place (which it obviously didn’t), or because, not only did it not choose him, but he also didn’t win it/become that wand’s Master. We don’t know what happened between him and Graves (though I’ve seen somewhere that JKR has confirmed Graves is still alive…can’t for the life of me remember where though!), but damn…that’s really impressive.

(Side note, but it’s really interesting to note that, if Gellert did leave Graves alive, it’s not the first time he’s left someone alive when someone else might have killed them. He did the same with Gregorovitch when he stole the Elder Wand. He got the wand, but left Gregorovitch alive. I’ve wondered about that before, since surely the last thing he should do is leave any sort of trail, especially when looking for a powerful artefact like the Elder Wand. And leaving Gregorovitch alive does, ultimately, come back to bite him in the arse when Voldy comes calling. It’s possible that he simply does not take pleasure in killing, and really only does it in self-defence, which says quite a bit about him, in all honesty…)

But this final point about the wand(s) leads to another issue. If Gellert is master of the elder wand and does all that impressive shit with Graves’ wand that isn’t his…how does he lose to Albus?? He’s shaping up to be immensely powerful, intelligent and magically gifted (and also, in terms of his ideas and motives, ABSOLUTELY RIGHT) and yet…Albus beats him? I’m not saying Albus isn’t powerful as fuck and a damn good duellist (he certainly is), but I feel like Gellert is more than a match for him - and they both know it. And yet…Albus wins the duel, and the Elder Wand. It seems suspicious to me. As though…actually, yes. I’m going to say it. I’m now 1000% convinced that Gellert might not have outright surrendered, but he was absolutely holding back against Albus and, in the end, for reasons currently unknown, he threw the duel.

[scuttling]

While I'm writing Dad!Bod Hotch with babies... 🥺

...Here's a very baby excerpt from one of my other works (modified a little so it can be read as reader.) It's pretty cute if I do say so myself! Tags: 18+, NSFW, Blow job + Pregnant sex The next child abduction case they get happens a year later, and it takes them to Seattle; rain beats down on the Sullivan house while she and JJ sit with the family and try to keep them informed of what’s going on in terms of the investigation. The mother stares out the window at the rain, and she brings over the cup of tea she’d offered to make, sets it down on the table beside her, takes her trembling hands.

“I promise you, Mrs. Sullivan, our team is doing absolutely everything they can to locate your son safely. They are the best in the world at what we do; we just need to let them do their jobs.”

Mrs. Sullivan frowns, takes a sobbing breath, and then wraps her arms around her; she’s a little startled by it, but rubs her back, trying to provide comfort.

After a couple minutes, Mrs. Sullivan pulls back, and she offers her a tissue.

“Do you have any children?” she asks, wiping her eyes.

“Yes. He’s seven years old, and his name is Jack.”

They find the boy five hours later. Alive.

She and Aaron have celebration sex on every available surface.

“Hey. So, I got three or four calls from my doctor’s office a couple weeks ago, but I was preoccupied with the Sullivan case and I kept forgetting to call her back,” she says later from Aaron’s lap. He sits up, holding her hips while he shifts his weight.

“Okay. Is everything alright? Why was she calling so often?”

“Apparently, my IUD expired a month ago. I have to get it taken out.” He looks cautiously over her face, like he’s not sure what reaction she wants from him. She’s fairly certain she knows what his first instinct is. “Well, Jack and I were at the grocery store when I spoke to her—and you know I’ve been feeling a little off…” She wets her lips, reaches over the arm of the couch and pulls a little cardboard box off the console table. She can see his breath hitch.

“Have you taken it?” She nods quickly, presses her lips together.

“Just waiting now.” Carefully, he reaches for the box, takes it out of her hand, and sets it back down on the table. He pulls her close for a tight hug.

“Whatever happens, I love you so much,” he murmurs in her ear, and they just hold each other until the timer on her phone goes off. She brushes her hand through his hair, and his eyes are wet; she knows hers are too.

She climbs out of his lap, and he follows her down the hall, clinging to her back like he can’t physically let her go. When they make it to the bathroom, she picks up the test, squeezes her eyes briefly shut, and holds it up so he can read the word on the screen.

The word.

She spins in his arms, wraps hers around him, and jumps up and down, the grin splitting her face nothing compared to the gorgeous smile that lights up his.

“I’m going to see if Dr. Rose can fit me in tomorrow,” she says, leaning up to smooch him several times in a row. “Just to be sure.”

“Let me know, I’ll come.” She nods, kisses him a few more times, takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“I love you so much.” He holds her, repeats it, kisses her forehead, her eyes. Then he starts kissing her for real, reverent and steamy, and they walk gracelessly toward the bedroom, tugging articles of clothing off as they go.

She is kneeling over him on the bed, giving him a very good, messy, ‘Congrats, you’re probably going to be a daddy again!’ blow job when she pulls back suddenly, an overwhelming thought crossing her mind; she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“You know my brother has two sets of twins, right?” “A package came from your brother today,” Aaron says a couple months later as he’s leafing through the mail; he holds it out to her, and she opens it up, excited, then covers her mouth, can’t help but aww. “What is it?” he asks, not looking up from the stack of envelopes, and she puts her hand on his arm to get his attention.

“‘For the Hotchner siblings’—that’s what the card says,” she explains when he looks up, and then she holds up the largest t-shirt: it’s brown, with a cartoon bear cub, white letters spelling out Brother Bear. She holds up a smaller shirt: Sister Bear #1. Then another small shirt: Sister Bear #2. He smiles.

“Okay, that’s cute. We have to FaceTime him and thank him.”

“Definitely. He’s not going to believe how big this belly is,” she says, reaching up on her toes for a kiss; he comes at her from the side, because it’s easier to reach her lips that way. “Uh, Hotch, we need you down in the bullpen. She's crying and we can’t get her to stop,” Spencer says into the phone, looking a little freaked. Aaron must agree to come down, because he hangs up the receiver wordlessly; JJ rubs her shoulders, trying to comfort her.

“It’s okay, I completely understand. It’s normal to feel like that at this stage of the pregnancy,” she explains, and it’s all sounding very rational, but she just covers her eyes and keeps crying.

When Aaron crouches down beside her, he takes her hands carefully off of her face, wipes her tears with his sleeve, peers up at her with soft eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I want…” She gulps, sniffles, and Prentiss hands her a tissue over the desk partition. “Thank you. I want these babies out of me,” she sobs, and she knows she’s making a huge scene, but she doesn’t even care. “I want your babies out of me, Aaron!” He sighs; she knows he’s heard it all before.

“I know, honey, but you have to be patient. It will happen when it’s meant to.” She sobs, then hiccups, and that’s just great.

“But I’m—I’m drinking the stupid tea, I’m eating the dates. I got the, the acupuncture—do you know how weird it is to see those needles sticking out of your body? It’s unsettling!”

Morgan returns from Garcia’s office, takes one look at them, and abruptly pivots on his heel to head back.

“Oh sure,” she calls, and then hiccups, “everyone sees a crying pregnant woman and they just run away!”

“Noo, he just texted me!” Spencer lies, waving his phone that he never even looked at. “He said he forgot something and he’ll be right back.”

“Spencer, tell me what else can induce labor, please,” is all she says, doesn’t call him out because it’s sweet that he even tried. He counts off with his fingers as he recites the list.

“Raspberry leaf tea, dates, castor oil—” she grimaces, because that shit’s the worst “—acupressure, acupuncture, exercise.” He hesitates, looks a little uncomfortable, and she hiccups, gets pissed, takes a deep breath.

“Sweetie, honey,” she says, reaching out a hand for him, and he takes it, pats it awkwardly. Bless his heart. “You’re my partner, and I love you, but please spit it out.”

“Okay, uh. Nipple stimulation, and uh. Well. Sex.” Oh, yeah, the nipple thing they tried, but it felt like a restless cat trying to get comfortable on her chest, wasn’t sexy at all, so they didn’t try the rest. She snaps her fingers at Aaron like a douchebag asking for the waitress, wipes her face, hiccups again.

“Okay, we’re doing it, we’re doing that one. Sex me up.” Prentiss barks a laugh, and Spencer looks deeply disturbed. “Please can we go home now?”

“Uh, yes, we can,” Aaron begins, “but I’m not sure we should—” Nope, she’s not gonna listen to that bullshit. He hasn’t been pregnant for 42 fucking weeks.

“I love you, but shut up. Your dick put these things inside me, and your dick’s gonna get them out.” She moves to stand, and so does he, arms out like he’ll catch her if she starts to wobble. “I know I’m not sexy anymore with this gigantic stomach, but please please please just fuck me.” He closes his eyes, sighs like he regrets so much in life, and then gives her a hard kiss on the mouth. It makes her, like, instantly horny; she’d initiate sex right here if she thought she could get her pants off.

“You are as sexy as you’ve ever been,” he murmurs, hovering over her lips, “and I’m going to fuck you.” Sex this big sucks. Missionary is hilarious, doggy is uncomfortable, side by side seems okay but is actually kind of impractical. She feels betrayed.

Aaron helps her get on top of him—his dick is so hard it makes her feel really, really good about herself—and she’s more than okay with bouncing on him, but her belly bounces too, and it feels weird.

“Can you hold it?” she pants, and she takes the hair tie off her wrist and sweeps her hair into a ponytail because she’s sweating from all the position-shifting. “Just like, hold it.” She takes his hands and rests them on her enormous beach ball belly, sighs because it feels nice. “Good, yeah, thank you, let me try again.”

She braces herself against his thighs, rides him quickly, bucking hard—after about 15 years of wishing she had bigger breasts, she now despises hers, and therefore avoids them at costs, but she does manage to reach her clit, and she rubs it furiously as she moves atop him.

Aaron—who is so great, and sweet, who she loves so much—is all but useless, just holds her belly still and groans like he’s getting the best pussy of his lifetime, which she guesses maybe he is, because she wants these babies out and she’s well and truly desperate. “Oh, fuck, baby,” he grinds out, and his hands move to her thighs, squeezing hard, and she whines.

“No, no, do not come, don’t come.”

He comes.

An hour later, they try again, with her propped up on a pillow, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed. The internet said this would work, and if it doesn’t, she’s prepared to let BoyMom282 fucking have it.

“Oh my god, yes, yes,” she moans, clutching at the sheets above her head, and Aaron’s hands feel so good on what remains of her waist as he pounds into her. “Fuck, yes, fuck me until your babies are ready, Aaron. Such a fucking man, knocking me up with two babies at once—you can help me get them out, can’t you, daddy?”

He groans long and loud, and she puts a hand on his, squeezes hard.

“Don’t. Come. I swear to god if you come inside me right now, it will be the last time you ever do it.”

He comes, but luckily for him, she comes first. “So, tell us which is which,” Garcia leads, visibly excited, and she leans back against Aaron’s body, looks at the sweet baby girl in his arms.

“This one is Camila,” she says, touching her teeny tiny little foot, “and Spencer’s holding Mia. Mia Clarita Hotchner Cortes—Clarita after my mother—and Camila Marie Hotchner Cortes.”

“Marie after my mother,” Aaron explains, and he puts an arm around her, which she snuggles happily against. “We’re just waiting for Jack—he should be here any minute.” Spencer hands Mia back to her, and she kisses her forehead.

“This is the best day of your mama’s life,” she coos, touching her soft, dark, fuzzy baby hair. Her heart swells. “I was going to become daddy’s next unsub if you little cuties didn’t vacate my uterus in a timely fashion.”

She can hear the squeak of Jack's shoes coming through the door, and she looks up at Aaron with a grin. When Jack comes around the bed and sees the girls, his eyes get big. “Whoa, are these my sisters?” Haley pops in behind him, and she smiles at them.

“Yeah, buddy, come here,” she says, gesturing for him with her free arm. “This is Mia, and this is Camila.”

“Gentle like we practiced,” Aaron reminds him when he reaches out to touch Camila’s face, and she and Haley both roll their eyes, then laugh.

“He knows, sweetie.” She watches their interaction with so much love, then brushes her fingers over Jack’s hair. “You’re going to be the best brother bear ever, aren’t you?” He looks up at her, grins; he’s missing a tooth just to the left of the front ones, and she’s obsessed with that little gap.

“Yep, I’m going to read them stories and share my toys and play with them at the park.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” Aaron says, leaning down to look into his eyes. “And so are we, buddy.” “And do you, Aaron Hotchner—”

“Da-ah-addy!” someone sobs—Mia, she mouths to Aaron across from her—and she sees JJ step out from behind her, trying to soothe her so they can proceed, but she’s not having any luck. Mia is a daddy’s girl, and the fact that she can see him, but she’s not in his arms, is like a mortal sin to her.

She gets it, she really does. She felt that way every day for two years.

When it’s obvious she’s not calming down, the officiant clears her throat and tries again, but Mia’s wailing just gets louder. Aaron smiles, shrugs.

“Sorry. It’s okay—here, Mia, daddy’s right here,” he assures, reaching out to take her from JJ, and he wipes her eyes, her red nose, and bounces her on his hip for a moment until she settles. She shoots them what she’s sure is a sickeningly sweet glance and then turns around and asks for Camila; Emily hands her off with a big smile.

Aaron grins when she puts her on her hip, and he reaches behind him for his best man, Jack, encourages him to come forward so he’s standing between them. She smiles at him, touches his face, and nods at the officiant, who takes a deep breath and proceeds.

“Do you, Aaron Hotchner, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, in sorrow and in joy, from this day forward, as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.” They opted not to write their own vows, because their vows are living, breathing things between them, three perfect little heartbeats. Anything more felt unnecessary.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Virginia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.” He does, so well she thinks she might get pregnant again, and then they each kiss their three babies, and she silently marvels over the fact that all it took was being clobbered over the head with a fire extinguisher for her life to end up this perfect. “Did you know that your chance of having a second set of fraternal twins jumps to 12% after you’ve had the first?” Spencer asks as they’re gathered in the briefing room one morning. She and Aaron are standing up front, pressed close together, nodding patiently. “And considering they run in your family, and that your brother has two sets of fraternal twins, I’d say that statistically the odds are more likely doubled.”

She looks over at Aaron, whose eyes are filled with love and awe and also some pretty sexy other things, and then pulls the ultrasound image out from the little envelope, holds it out for the team to see.

In unison, they answer, “We know.”

They get a package in the mail later that week: One Jack-sized t-shirt—Brother Bear #1—and two tiny t-shirts—Sister Bear #3 and Brother Bear #2. She and Aaron stop by the hospital to visit a friend after surgery and she can't resist walking past the maternity ward. Something about seeing all of those brand new, healthy, happy babies rejuvenates her after a tough case, and the one they'd finished up earlier in the week had been one of the toughest.

A woman comes to stand beside her as she looks at the babies, wearing sweatpants and a hospital gown—she's maybe 30, so just a few years younger—and she smiles brightly at the woman. "New mom?"

"Yeah, she's the one right there," the woman says with a grin, pointing to a sweetly sleeping little girl. "Isn't she perfect?"

"They're all perfect," she sighs, "but she is very beautiful. Congratulations." The woman's smile turns warmer, softer.

"Thank you. Do you have any children?" She's so wrapped up in the dreamy haze of little babies wiggling their toes that she almost doesn't hear the question.

"Hmm? Oh yeah, five of them: Adrian, Isabella, Mia, Camila, and Jack." The woman's eyes go extremely wide, and she laughs, because she's so very used to that. Aaron steps up on her other side, wraps an arm around her waist.

"Thought I might find you here," he says, and he smiles politely at the woman, who's looking like she may never open her legs again. "Can't resist looking at the babies."

"I just love babies," she says sweetly, and she stretches up for a kiss. "Do you ever think we should have another, just to even it out?"

"Hmm. Yes, but knowing us, they'll be twins again, so it's probably best we stick with five." He bends for another kiss, and she pulls him close; when she remembers where they are, she pulls back, to shoot the new mom a sheepish smile, but she's already gone. She sighs.

"Fair enough. But do you want to go home and practice anyway?"

[sirthisisa-wendys]

The Enforcers Part 8 (Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader)

wc: 1.7k

tw: dark content (self-harm)

masterlist

a/n: By no means do I condone self-harm or want to glorify it in the light of this chapter. As a person who struggled with physical self-harm in her early teens, I know the destructive nature of this type of activity. However, as my characters are not perfect and complicated, I see this particular mode of action as something she would try to do in order to alleviate her pain and confusion. If you have questions or concerns, my inbox is always open to having a discussion about it.

If you so wish, you may skip this chapter altogether. There will be a recap on the next one if you choose to skip for your mental health. Take care of yourselves and see you soon. (ALSO, I know I promised smut but I gotta give y'all a raincheck this go-round. SORRY PLS DON'T KILL ME)

You're on your forty-seventh file of scandals, coverups, and secret dossiers that you finally feel it. The fabric of your identity begins to unravel right before your eyes.

Everything you've known is a lie.

The CSB has covered up so many things. So many lives lost. So many people forced to flee. So many families ripped apart--

An email makes its way over to the server, and you open it, the words across the screen coming from Suguru.

I know it's late, but send over Yu Haibara's files when you can.

You hit the reply button and begin to type out: "You mean the boy you killed?" but you stop yourself, deleting the words rapidly. Instead, you attach the files and send them over, not even bothering to look at them. You can't do it. Not another file could be stored away in the annals of your brain.

Nothing is as it seems anymore. The lies... they pile up in your mind, flooding the spaces where you used to hold what you thought was true, what you thought was real. Now, they're overflowing out of your brain and into your heart and soul, plaguing you like the nightmares that face you down night after night, more like demons that lurk in the corners of your mind than full file cabinets.

You always wake up in a tangle of sheets and sweat, one of your various enemies' faces hovering over you right before you stare down the barrel of a gun and --

You stumble out of the chair, eyes wet with tears, and go to the sink in the bathroom to wash your face. After you splash water on your skin, you look up at your reflection, anger rolling through you at the way you look. Weak.

You're fucking weak.

The voice in your head that usually told you that you were doing okay, that you had it all under control, is now turning on you, spitting nasty words that stick in between the synapses of your brain a muddy your rational thoughts.

The voices rise to a fever pitch, and you suddenly see red, the entirety of the world descending into blood-colored madness. The shattering of the glass mirror only becomes a reality when you're standing above the sink, chest heaving as your thoughts silence one by one, like shutting off lights in a house.

But only one stays behind as a shard of the mirror clinks into the sink.

Escape.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

You could get rid of the feelings here. You could get rid of the thoughts. You could escape. Why hadn't you thought about this before?

"Do it."

Your fingers grip the jagged shard of glass carefully, and before you can stop yourself, you drag it across the inside of your wrist, end to end, leaving behind a red line of blood that immediately blooms. Crimson dots drop into the sink, and you stare at the color, mesmerized by the way the blood runs down your arm and into the porcelain bowl. But there's no relief.

No sense of freedom.

Maybe you didn't do it hard enough?

Maybe you didn't--

The door to your room slams open, and you turn your head just as Suguru comes rushing into the bathroom. The shard of glass is still in your hand, as well as the blood running down your arm, and Suguru catches this immediately.

"Fuck," he breathes, and you turn to him, shard extended.

"Don't come any closer."

"Y/n," he calmly whispers. "You don't look so good."

"I wonder why that is," you reply, and Suguru stares back at you, hands raised in surrender.

"What're you doing?"

"What does it look like, Suguru?" you state in a trance. Your bullet wound begins to throb dully, but you ignore it, just like you're ignoring the blood dripping onto the tile flooring.

"Y/n, let's think about this."

"I don't want to think anymore!" The shrill scream is loud enough to make Suguru flinch, and you softly repeat, "I don't want to think anymore," over and over again as tears run down your face.

"I know," Suguru whispers. "I know. Will you let me help you?" You hiccup and drop the piece of glass to the floor, dissolving in a heap of tears and moans. You feel hands pulling you up from the floor and into strong arms, your head being cradled against a broad chest you've felt before. "Go ahead," Suguru encourages you. "Cry it out."

He carries you to another room in the building in silence, laying you on a firm bed and disappearing as you heave painful sobs into the sheets.

"Everything... hurts..." you gasp, and when Suguru reappears with a white bundle of cloth, a bandage roll, and some water, he nods.

"We're going to make it better, don't worry." He takes your injured arm and carefully wipes away the blood, examing the cut slowly. "Doesn't need stitches, thankfully." He turns to open the water bottle and hands it to you, silently telling you to drink while he bandages your wrist.

You drink the water greedily then lean back on the headboard, eyes closing down as Suguru works diligently on your wound. And then you remember the first time he did this for you and the mistake you made in your pridefulness.

"Thank you," you murmur, and Suguru looks up at your face, finally seeing some form of clarity cross your tear-streaked cheeks.

"You're welcome," he replies tenderly. "I have to keep you safe, remember? I promised you that I would." You don't answer him, but he finishes at that exact moment anyways, standing and placing the remnants of the bandage roll on the nightstand. The wound is now covered up completely, with no sign of blood seeping through the cotton and staining the white cloth dark red.

You watch as Suguru crawls into the bed beside you, sighing deeply as he runs his fingers through his locks. "Should I stay awake with you or do you want to try to sleep?"

"Sleep," you answer - albeit not confidently - and the black-eyed man obliges, pulling the thin sheet over you.

"I'll be right here," he affirms, but you reach out your uninjured arm and touch his hand. He instantly turns his palm up to let you grab his fingers, and you pull him closer to you in the king-sized bed.

"Hold me." A second passes with no movement, and Suguru whispers,

"Are you sure?" You nod, and he wordlessly scoots closer, wrapping an arm around you as you nestle into his side with your bandaged hand resting on his chest. His fingers rub a soft pattern up and down your skin, soothing you to the brink of sleep. "I've got you. We'll deal with everything else in the morning," Suguru murmurs as you slip off into a dreamless - and nightmare-less - sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Morning comes and goes.

Midday arrives, and you awaken from your terrorless sleep still encased in Suguru's grasp. Your eyes flick up to his face, which is peaceful in the midday light streaming in from the windows. The Leader of the Fallen Sun District is asleep and dead to the world around him, but the sound of his breathing lets you know he's on the brink of waking up.

Part of you doesn't want him to. You want to lay there without any responsibilities to him, without any concern, or further harm to either one of you. Maybe if you continued to sleep, all of this would become a distant memory. All of this would go away, and you could go back to living in ignorance.

But Suguru's stirring makes you stiffen, and you feel his arms tighten around you before sliding away.

"You're awake."

"Yeah," you whisper, and he sits up, pulling his knees to his chest.

"We need to talk about last night." You sit up as well, staring at the edge of the bed blankly. "Why didn't you tell someone about your declining mental health?"

"I didn't realize it until it was too late," you admit, looking at the bandage on your wrist. "But I won't be doing that again."

"Doesn't matter," Suguru interjects, looking over at you. You choose to avoid his gaze and stare at your feet, inhaling deeply. "I have to have someone watch you now. I want you to be safe, and now I'm not sure if I can ensure that without some oversight on my part."

"No," you exhale quickly, looking over at him in fear. "I'm better now, I promise."

"I'll have someone move a few of your things over here. That way I can keep an eye on you, just in case." Suguru continues, standing from his position on the bed. "I won't bother you. But I made a promise to you, and I'm going to keep it at all costs." He turns back to you, stating, "Today we'll take a day off and go into the town. I've been wanting to show you around for a while anyway."

You conclude the argument is over when he places a kiss on your temple, then walks into his bathroom, shutting the door and leaving you on the bed alone.

_____________________________________________________________

A car picks both of you up from the building, and when you slide into the backseat, Suguru points to the expanse in the distance.

"Take us to the marketplace." The driver nods, scars running up and down his pale face and his blue eyes looking up at you in the rearview mirror. Does this man even know that he's sitting next to the leader of the Fallen Sun district? Or is Kenjaku a faceless man, hiding behind walls of ones and zeroes?

The scenes that pass by you look identical to those of the city you know and love. There are children playing on the sidewalks, people carrying groceries, life carrying on as if the majority of their names aren't on some rejected list of people who defected from their previous society. Suguru notices your awe at the way things are, and looks over at you, smiling brightly.

"You'd be surprised what you can build from ashes, y/n."

_____________________________________________________________

TAGLIST: @missbonekitty @wack0-genius @thankuary @jsqeeut @r-i-m-f-009 @sunfloweroranges @leanne-tamashi @girlruby23 @rein-icu @brownskinnedgirll @chanelmalandro @savantsoulfinder @jibe-gajima @chilledlucifer @amnxsia @kontentious @fuyuko26 @everybodylovescayrayray @flare-on @sammytamaki @meena-in-a-nutshell @falling-through-pages @naoyasdarling

[tiredassmage]

Astor - 1

Shay - 15

I'd invest in little images to go with these, but it'd probably at least double the amount of time it takes me to get through them all, so I'll just stick to the relevant character or ship banners. :3

1 - "Don't Leave"

Set at the end of Heavensward, post Baelsar's Wall. No warnings apply. I almost kept going with this one, but they are meant to be short prompts, lmao... sooo... this is technically part of a bigger scene I've intended to write for ages that I may return to and properly finish off in the future. Also one of the few things I've written in present tense because I guess exhausted me who tried to write this at like 12:30 am last night thought that was cool. And I'll put a read more here just to save people the scrolling ksnflskf

“Eden-!” His hand catches on her arm, but quickly retreats to uneasily dig at the back of his neck. Her brow knits as she turns back to face him, her head inclined quietly in silent question.

“I-I’m sorry,” he stammers quietly, his gaze dropping hastily to the floor rather than risk meeting hers for too long. “I… I don’t mean to impose and… I… I know I have… no real right to ask, but I…” He’s already shaking just thinking about it - how the silence will settle thick in the darkness in the absence of another presence. He needs a distraction - anything to keep his mind off of… that. All of… that.

She releases a faint sigh, trying not to let an uneasy frown slip to her lips as she closes her eyes for a moment. She has a feeling she knows what he’s going to ask and… truthfully, she’d… “Astor..,” she tries quietly, “you should get some rest…”

She was the last person he should ask. He… He deserved better than what she could offer. Not when she was responsible for what haunted him.

Odeve would be so much better at this… It wouldn’t be her place to call upon her, but she was better. She’d already… They already…

“Please…”

Fuck. Her teeth sink into the inside of her lip. Against her better judgment, she takes him in - one arm wrapped around himself and anxiously clinging to his other as his hand restlessly tugs at his messied, braided hair.

He never deserved to be so broken. And yet she’d left him…

“Don’t go…” Hot tears sting his eyes though he struggles to maintain a modicum of his composure. He’s not the only one in need of rest. This is his home. He’s imposing. She doesn’t need to deal with his burdens tonight on top of everything else, but- “I… I can’t be alone tonight… I just can’t… Not… Not tonight… Not after…”

Eden deflates with another sigh of defeat. “Alright.., I’ll stay.”

15 - Trembling Hands

Set in Shadowbringers, shortly after the battle against Innocence. No warnings apply.

She’s so fragile. And so very, very small. She’d still felt almost weightless in his arms the whole way down that cursed mountainside.

He’d seen this coming. He had. From the way her gentle hands had brushed at her bangs, fingers working quietly against her temple in a way she’d tried to brush off as general fatigue from battle and ceaseless responsibility to the paling hue of her eyes. But he knew better. Hells, he knew her better than he knew himself, it felt…

But something in his soul had almost screamed of it. Was it the blinding radiance of the ceaseless Light in the sky and the crash after blood-rushing battle that had left his mind spinning and aching, or the crawling sense of some… twisted deja vu..?

One trembling hand balled into a fist as tatters of ancient promises and bygone partnerships echoed in whispers in his mind, against the hot sting that had not stopped threatening his eyes.

She was so small against him, where his free hand continued to thread through her golden hair.

Emet-Selch was going to pay. They were all going to pay.

He wouldn’t let a single one touch her. Even if it killed him.

Even if it cost him her trust.

He’d promised… He promised.

[skelanonymous]

Killermare/Nightkiller - Soul Mates

Hey! I finished the prompt person who made a request like a month ago! I literally do not want to even look at this anymore. I’ve been picking away at it all month between shifts and breaks and I’m beginning to hate it by virtue of seeing it too much. 

The beginning has been edited and now has some nsfw soul-mating and some after effect scenes!

Words: 6.1K

-

“Are you sure you want this? With me?” Nightmare wouldn’t meet Killer’s eyes. He stood in front of one of his room’s many arched windows, moonlight shimmering over his blackened form. His tentacles had curled in on him, arms crossed, an uncharacteristic sign of vulnerability that Killer had only seen inside of this room.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Killer, too, let his eternally present grin fall. This matter meant too much, and Nightmare’s insecurity fell heavily on him, on them. 

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“I have an idea, but I want to hear the specifics. ‘s important.” Killer crossed his own arms to match, to hold back the urge to touch his moon until he finished his thoughts.

“Soul mating is to share all that you are with another.” Nightmare turned to face out over the darkened wilds his castle oversaw. “It’s to be unified on every level and live as one until we cease to be. I am not afraid of being unified with you myself; I have centuries of existence and a power to shake the multiverse, and while I’m certain that I will be affected by you, as I am even now when we’re separate, I am also sure of my ability to handle it as I have everything else.”

“It’s me you don’t trust to deal.” Killer sighed, frown downturning further. Nightmare whirled around in an instant.

“I trust you with my life Killer.” He hurried across the room to hold his beloved’s face, a concerned eye looking into Killer’s, begging him to understand. “I would not humor this for anyone else, I would not want this with anyone else. To be joined with you is a dream I wish for. But…” His thumbs wiped away the streaks of liquid hate on Killer’s face. “To be joined to me is my namesake. You will know misery on a level you have never known.”

Killer reached up to hold Nightmare’s hands. He smiled with a short laugh.

“I think I’ve known some pretty deep fucking misery Night.” Killer let go to reach out for Nightmare’s jacket, pulling him closer. “I’m not fragile. You worry too much. ‘Sleeping near me might give you nightmares’ and ‘if I lose control during sex, I could hurt you’ and, my favorite, ‘I am the guardian of negativity, I cannot love you back.’ Yet we’re here.” He took a nice deep breath, sinking into the comfort that was Nightmare pressed to his chest. Nightmare’s fingers clutched at his back.

“Not like this Killer, never like this.” Cyan tears welled up, hands vice gripped onto his hoodie. “I am not minimizing your suffering, I have felt it firsthand, but mine is long and continuous. It bores into your soul and lives there. You mention that I have always worried and you have overcome, but yet, I still worry. Negativity is at the root of me.”

His tentacles reached out like more arms. The fear was palpable, flavoring the air and thick on their tongues. Nightmare could never forsake what he was. He could not undo what had been done.

“And to join you with that? I’m afraid of what this could do to you. Will you gain my corruption? Will I lose you like I lost myself for all those years? How much of you must be traded for us to experience this pinnacle of connection?” Night’s words flooded from his mouth, crying bitterly at the thought of turning Killer away, all for his sake. “Every single thing others can have, I must first pay a cost. To just exist without punishment cost my life, my home, my family. And even then, I did not escape punishment, I merely gained the ability to fight back!”

“Nightlight…look at me.” And he listened. Killer tapped his teeth to his.

“Killer…” Nightmare tapped back, kissing him deeply with wet cheeks. The tension of the room could be cut with a knife, Killer could feel it in the line of Night’s back, and he knew how to work that out. When they broke apart, Killer didn’t move back an inch.

“Remember when you confessed?” His voice rough and heavy against Night’s teeth, Killer’s eyes went half lidded. “You looked so shocked, like you couldn’t believe it.”

“I still don’t.” Nightmare’s voice dropped low, shaky but wanting.

“Moon, are you happy, being with me?” Night’s tentacles clutched him tight, Nightmare pressing up tight to him with another kiss, their faces still millimeters apart.

“Of course. Idiot...” His eye glanced wistfully at the bookshelves on the wall, expression serious and hesitant. Killer chuckled softly at the worry. He wiped his god’s tears away.

“Then why couldn’t I be happy joined with you?” Night’s body sparked with magic underneath his fingertips. “If even the god of negativity can be happy with the one he loves, why couldn’t I do the same with a piece of him living in my soul?” Killer licked his teeth, tongue touching his moon’s at this distance, groaning at the catch in Nightmare’s breath.

“You could.”

Killer crushed Night up against him, the smaller hands fisting in the loose blue hoodie in their passion. Kissing Nightmare always got his motor running. His dark tentacles sought out every surface to lavish attention on Killer’s body, three times the stimulation of any other partner and a hell of a lot more interesting.

“Let me have ya then.” His pointer finger slid down the black cheek, catching softly on his jaw, over his sensitive throat, and leaving a hot trail of need down his sternum before halting. Right over Night’s soul. “Mate with me Moon.”

Night reached out slowly for Killer’s soul, always within reach but rarely so bright, tapping the surface with a fond smile. Killer felt the weight of his words resonate across his being.

“Promise I won’t lose you?” Killer grinned widely.

“Promise.” The tenseness dropped from Night’s back, arms slung around Killer’s shoulders with a more confident look.

“Then take me Killer.”

Killer had a slight height advantage, but Night made up for it with vigor. The black fingers pulled at the hoodie, growling when Killer laughed at him for its slow removal.

“My soul’s not inside my ribcage Moonlight. Did ya forget?” He chuckled until Nightmare pulled their faces together again, groaning into Night’s mouth, tasting and teasing the cyan tongue until he felt Night’s fingers loosen. He took the opportunity to run a phalange up from Night’s back to his sternum, tracing a rib. Night broke off to shiver.

“Are you trying to rush?” Nightmare traced the outer edge of the target shaped soul. It snapped into a heart shape for the second go around. “There you are.”

“I just like when ya touch me.” Killer winked, grinding up against Night’s pelvis. Night bucked against the bulge in front of him. He kept rubbing the tiny heart in his hands while Killer nuzzled into his throat to nip and lick at the sensitive vertebrae there. “Fucking delicious. Can’t wait to have ya.” Killer took a deep breath in, lost in the scent of Nightmare. 

Night didn’t respond, only kissed the soul in his hands, trying to impart what he couldn’t say. I’m the lucky one. That you want me, it matters more than anything else. 

Killer’s mouth licked haphazardly. The warm buzz of emotion from Night seeped into his body, unfurling the little anxieties building in the peripheral of their relationship. Killer put on a grandiose show, playing the part of the cocky bastard to his moon’s calm stoic, but Nightmare very rarely opened up this far. His moon cried less than Killer had fingers on one hand. He spoke seldomly about the past in anything but factual recounts. The fact he’d been so honest, that he could feel that pure emotion through the contact, put him in a drunken euphoria. 

“Moooooon, you’re wearing too many clothes.” He pushed the hoodie off Night’s shoulders, caught on his elbows. “Come to the bed.” Killer slid his hands up to hold Night’s hands, soul dropped and returned to its place.

Killer led him towards the bed, but let him go with a sly grin. He stripped off his shirt with a twirl, revealing his ribs with hungry eyes, dropping his shorts in the next moment to persuade his love to do the same.

“Eager, are you?” Nightmare’s voice betrayed nothing, but the slow shrug off of his sweater spoke volumes.

“Already missing that touch of yours.” He gestured to his soul. “I could get off from just that.”

A peace offering, a way to back out, to build to this piece by piece. Night stepped closer to his love leaned back on the bed.

With a determined eye, he skimmed over the bulge of Killer’s cock, meeting Killer’s captivated gaze with ferocity. He only broke it to remove his suffocating shirt.

“Ignoring my needs? What type of mate do you plan to be?” Killer’s eyelights popped into existence while Nightmare seated himself on his lap. “I thought you said you’d never disappoint me…” He almost fell off when Killer sat up to meet him, smashing their teeth together.

Killer dove in, not leaving room for Nightmare to fight back, overwhelming his small lover with how much he could explore with his eyes closed. They were both pantless by the time Nightmare’s senses returned, breathless but alive with energy.

“If you’re feeling needy, we’ll focus on you then.” Nightmare had no ecto formed yet, Killer instead reaching up into his chest for the dark apple soul he’d never been allowed to touch. His hand hesitated before tapping the blackened surface. “Last chance Nightmare.” And when all he got was silence, he took it out and held it up to his face.

Unlike his own soul, the black apple sat calmly in his hand. It had little give, the dark peel a thin barrier to protect it from the outside world, everlasting and unbroken until this very moment.

“Didn’t expect that.” Killer ran his thumbs over the surface, testing the limits of the shell and Night in one swoop. His moon sat unaffected except by a blush.

“I’m sorry it’s not what you expected.” He could read Night’s hesitation in his body language, but not from the soul seated in his hands, its aura as calm on the exterior as its owner. He wanted in. Killer gently bit down on the apple, not wanting to go clean through, but maybe create a little breach. When Night didn’t react, he bit down harder. His ectobody formed instantly, boosting him up on Killer’s lap.

“OooooooH!” He broke the skin, a small cut through the outer barrier. Night hadn’t ripped it away yet, so Killer turned it over until he could work his tongue into the hole.

“KiLLeR.” Night’s thighs tightened on his legs, hips bucking down wantonly while his cyan tongue lolled out of his mouth. Killer kept working and tasting, getting deeper and deeper into the soul. “STARS, Killer, please. Fuck me!”

Tentacles curled up every limb stroking and teasing. They sought out Killer like a moth to the flame, knowing who was pleasing their master, eager to return the favor. Killer appreciated their caress, but focused in on the torrent of emotion pouring into his mouth from the apple. Night’s composure seldom broke outside of the bedroom, and even here, he was not driven to utmost debauchery, often just more openly honest about his desires. Licking directly into his core, Killer could taste how much Night was holding back. He sucked out some of the wet flavor with a slurp.

“God ya want this so bad. Good, me too.” Killer worked two fingers into the break to Night’s wrecked gasps. “My soul can’t fit in here love. Gunna have to make room for me inside ya.” 

“I need you inside me, right now.” Night’s tentacles readjusted them quickly for his red cock to slide up and down Night’s already wet folds. “I love you, connect with me, I’ve got so much room for you…” Killer heard the wet squelch of Night stretching himself open with a tentacle in preparation, making his cock twitch in anticipation. He forced his tongue in around the three fingers he’d worked into Night’s soul. His reward was instantaneous. 

“AAH!” Night’s knees knocked on his waist, his eye wide and hazy, which Killer took advantage of by pulling Night further onto him and starting to sink into his soaked pussy along with the slicked tentacle still stuffed inside. 

“Oh FUCK!” Night’s cyan eye rolled into his skull, trembling apart at the seams. “T-they fit?”

“They sure do.” Killer pulled his soul up to the opening in Night’s. “You ready for the second squeeze?” He flexed his hips making Nightmare scream.

“Stuff me full Killer, hah, please!” 

With a gentle push, his soul tapped against the inside of Night’s, the opening worked large enough for the entire thing to fit along it on one side. He watched fascinated. Normal soulmating, you could hold two souls together and they’d combine, no work required but the desire to do so, but he had to try at getting his moon open enough to reach the savory core. They sat against each other for an instant, Killer anxious if he’d gone about it wrong and Night if he could even do this at all, before Killer’s entire soul slid directly inside, combining them in a flash of color.

The red apple hung between them pleasantly. Killer’s eyelights glowed bright as Night’s went deep purple.

“Moon?” The words echoed in his mind, though it felt like he spoke them. He didn’t need to say anything, Night was him and he was Night, but his sudden desire to hear Nightmare overrode logic.

“My darling soul.” Hands rested on his face. Night’s locked eyes with his, faces moving closer, but even an inch felt too far. It was slow deliberate love, that first kiss, the taste of their soulmate for the very first time.

But then Night shifted to get a little closer and the thickness inside him sparked the desire.

That spark quickly caught, burning through both of them with the intensity of sun, each thought echoing between their souls, escalating to a constant hum that drowned out the rest. Night slid forward to take Killer and his own appendage to the hilt. Killer moaned loudly before pulling Night up to his chest with a desperate kiss. He could barely get out any words.

“I love you.” It slurred from his teeth, feeling the tentacle inside of Night curl around his cock to make it stretch out Night wider. “You’ve got my soul inside yours, ya shouldn’t mind if I fill ya with my cum right?” He thrusted experimentally; Night wailed and slid down to meet his hips. His purple blush complimented the wrecked expression, staring into Killer’s eyes like a lifeline, before nodding with a broken moan. “Fuck you’re perfect.”

He started slow. Night winced at the end of the thrusts and Killer wasn’t so far gone as to not notice; to the contrary, he had never been more aware of his moon. The sound of his voice breaking on Killer’s name a symphony, the taste of his love’s tongue a banquet, all his senses awakened at the sight of his gorgeous soulmate. And through the bond, he could feel Night’s agreement.

“Please, please, please!” Oversensitive and at the emotional limit, Killer could feel his peak rapidly approaching, speeding up to slam into Night, clapping their ecto together between lewd pants and groans. He dropped his sweaty head against Night’s shoulder.

“God Night, come for me!” Night’s pussy clamped down tight with his orgasm. Killer rode it to his own finish.

“Fuck!” 

He slow thrusted through it, filling up Night with his red magic, sliding against each other with pleasant bonelessness. They fell back onto the bed in their embrace.

“Killer…”Night’s head rested on his chest, one hand rubbing over where he could see Killer’s cum inside himself. Killer felt tears drip onto his ribcage.

“Nightlight?” He cradled Night’s head. He held him tight, Night nuzzling his chest with the rarest of expressions.

“Thank you.” The genuine smile, soft and sweet, hit Killer right in their combined souls, overcome with their combined joy. He had it so bad. They readjusted to separate, sharing soft continuous kisses, settling into the blankets with unmatched contentment.

“We look pretty good together.” He stroked a finger over the red apple, both trembling with a soft sigh. “Can’t get rid of me now. No take-backs.”

“I can think of no better partner for eternity.” And that deep honesty flustered Killer. He hoped he’d get to see more of this side of his beloved moon now that they were one. Being one in all forms had unlocked more of himself than had existed before, parts he would adopt from Night starting to click in as extensions of his soul. Something dark ate at the back of Killer’s mind, but combined like this, it was held at bay effortlessly by Night’s calm thoughts and breathing.

“Let’s get some rest Nightlight. We have the rest of our lives tomorrow.” He pulled up a sheet to cover them, and placed one last kiss on Night’s teeth. 

“That we do.” With their combined souls hanging between them, they slipped in restful sleep. 

-

Killer woke up late. Looking around, he realized he’d been moved from Night’s bedroom to the study. He sat up (appropriately though not fully dressed) on the lounge that Nightmare had scooted closer to his desk.

“Good afternoon. How are you feeling?” Killer felt strangely apprehensive before realizing that the feeling wasn’t centered in his body. The immediacy lessoned the longer he thought about it, though the intensity of that wariness kept ratcheting up while he tried to speak.

“Is that you?” The sudden break in relief caused emotional whiplash and a spike of discomfort.

“Yes. My apologies, I wasn’t reigning in my reactions.” The normal calm came back, with a background fluttering of too many emotions to name. “It should be more manageable now.”

“Wow, I must be bothering the fuck outta you.” He laughed at the tinges of worry, indignation, and relief in turn. A glance at his own chest revealed only his own soul. They’d separated when sleeping it appeared.

“Always.” 

“Wow, this is what you’re actually feeling?” Each emotion felt so distinct and different, the deep fondness manifesting as a touch to the cheek and a soft smile, the yearning a waltz across a marble floor, remaining a respectable distance but waiting for a moment alone to close the distance. So caught in this tide, he didn’t notice the tentacle resting along his back.

“Yes. I hope you could see through the sarcasm beforehand. But focus for a moment.” The appendage slid up his spine, Killer shivering. “I’m syphoning my power out of you by force, but once I break contact, you will be hit with whatever my corruption has done to you.”

“Still worried?” Killer grinned with a tilt of his head, shit eating smile not calming Night in the slightest.

“I didn’t want you to wake up in whatever state this will put you in. There’s a difference from knowing it’s coming to waking up overwhelmed.” Killer rolled his shoulders to ready up, taking a few breaths before nodding confidently. 

“Hit me with it Nightlight.” 

The instant the words left his mouth, the weight of the corruption fell on his back. He gasped, choking on the weight of the atmosphere, hate spilling out of his eyes. His soul pulsed heavily, weighted and overwhelming, drowning in a pit of self-loathing and anger that he almost couldn’t see through. 

He fell off something. His hands scrambled along the floor, colliding with something that Killer clawed at until he was sat up again.

He trembled violently, bones clattering against his leverage. Sounded familiar though. Where had he heard it before? He focused on the sound to anchor himself in the moment, reflecting on it until the answer came to him suddenly. Nightmare’s desk, he’d had sex on enough times to remember the way wood sounded banging against bone.

Nightmare! He’d been with him before this.

Killer heaved in a few gulps of air. If he reached out with his magic, he could feel him, dark and powerful not too far away, and that helped get through the worst of the panic. The calm washed over him like soothing rain. It soaked into his joints until he laid back against the wood, completely still.

Amidst the black came a single bright ping of light. Hope lit in his chest like a lamp, illuminating his eyelights, finally able to see.

Feelings were too overwhelming to speak, but his staticky pupils stared at his moon’s face.

Nightmare forwent his usual propriety, his normally impassive face scrunched up in unease. His cyan pupil took in every movement, any motion or emotion he could see. Every tentacle hovered around him worriedly, barely restrained from touching Killer to sap the feeling away. He felt Night’s palms on his. He gripped them back with a tired grin.

He could see Nightmare trying to speak, but his ears hadn’t caught up to him yet, still roaring with the stress his body had gone through. He tugged on Nightmare’s arms, toppling the king to the ground into him. Pressed against his chest, he felt better already.

Oh look at his cute soulmate. God he loved him.

Night had been knocked down to kneeling over Killer’s collapsed form, sitting in his lap with flushed cyan cheeks, all right in reach of Killer. Night really should know who he was dealing with by now.

Killer kissed him fully, hands trailing to his shoulder joints to get his moon to huff and let him in. It felt incredible, their magic tongues sparking up pure passion between them through the bond. The fog from the shock of Night’s power was clearing, getting further and further away the more he touched his precious mate, measured in the volume of sounds finally reaching him. By the time they broke apart, Killer had his mind back enough to speak.

“I told you. You worry too much.” Killer grinned, eyes closed and amused. He nuzzled Night’s cheeks with his own. “If you think I was handsy before, you won’t be able to handle how much I want ya now.”

“You’re incorrigible.” Nightmare surged up into another kiss. The magical connection pulsed alive in their souls, swept away in the insatiable urge to be closer to each other. So enraptured that they only halted when they heard mumbling to the side.

“I’m not interrupting them Papyrus, they’ll take a break eventually…” Dust didn’t even flinch when their eyes snapped over to him.

“Didn’t take ya as a voyeur Dusty!” Killer laughed. Nightmare stood quickly, but didn’t move to take his place behind his desk.

“I suppose you’re reporting in on your latest assignment in Fellswap.” Night could compartmentalize like a pro, his face blank and unaffected in moments while Dust relayed his findings calmly. Killer had envied Night’s ability to sort away emotions and reject them, choosing to feel them instead of being overcome, but now that he had a direct link behind the facade, he found himself awed at his moon’s composure under enormous influence.

Calmed by the impromptu make out session, Killer searched inside himself for what was new.

The parts of the bond that came from Nightmare felt shiny, not like the pieces that had always been there. He could feel those rotting things from his own past had been broken in, worn to match the rest of him, unlike that which was added. Killer visualized Nightmare’s power like a tiny galaxy living in him. Dark and expansive, powerful and captivating, it crooked a finger at him to indulge in the negative in himself and in others around him. He could pull on it, indulge in the poisonous vapors, become more powerful in an instant. 

Tentacles slithered over his arms, lifting him carefully but pulling his back flush against Nightmare’s chest.

“Now where were we?” Night’s voice rumbled through the both of them. Killer stroked each appendage and licked the corner of Nightmare’s mouth.

“Almost to the good part.”

He was level 20. Right hand of the terror of the multiverse. Mated to the god of negativity. He’d killed plenty and taken what he wanted his entire life. 

Killer shut the power out of his mind. He’d take it in stride and learn to tame the damn thing. No need to throw away his sanity for more power than he already had, especially not at the cost of his moon. 

One stray hand to his pelvis and the thought was gone.

-

“How do ya deal with the cravings?” Killer’s hand clenched around his knife, breathing through his nose in metered breaths. Blood red magic ran from his mouth where he’d bitten his tongue at the last second.

“I indulge when it is safe to do so.” Night watched cautiously from the door to the training room.

“And when’s that?” Killer curled in on himself.

“Moments like right now.” 

He and Horror had been sparring, just like normal, taunting back and forth, when the corruption had reared its ugly head mid-sentence. 

“Can’t keep up? Maybe that’s why you couldn’t feed Pap-” Killer instantly ate his own words, teeth cutting clean through his tongue before Horror could do anything in retaliation. He didn’t even block the attack Horror had started. They weren’t fragile, god knows that they had tougher skin than most, but there were lines you did not cross, and Killer had sprinted straight past them without looking back. He hadn’t moved since.

“So you’re feeding off my fuckup? At least that’s something.” His shirt was wet against his sternum, stuck and soaked in the front, sticky and thick on his fingers tearing into the fabric.

Nightmare pulled down, sitting beside him on the floor. Every limb hovered over Killer’s form. Times like this, he almost detested Nightmare’s superior control, unable to see beyond that carefully neutral face and the wall Nightmare could pull between their bond with ease.

“I cannot help my nature. That doesn’t mean I wished for this.” Nightmare folded his hands in his lap, a picture of patience. “He has already forgiven you.”

“He fucking shouldn’t. I knew what the fuck saying that would do.” Killer sneered at the floor. Black dripped down to mix with the crimson staining his clothes. He was such a piece of shit, giving in like this was his first damn rodeo, like he’d never had to exert ANY fucking self control! He fell forward until his face met the floor.

“You’ve only had this power for a few weeks. It takes time.” Killer could feel his tentacles tentatively soothe him at the edges, pokes and pats soft enough to be shaken off should he decide to run. “I’m sorry.”

Killer’s eyelights flicked on at the tiny pulse of sadness. Night could hide a lot, but powerful swings couldn’t be hidden from your soulmate.

He turned over to stare at his moon. His face looked steady as always, but knowing the emotion beneath gave it away. Night met his gaze evenly, but his eye had gotten soft, rounded on the edges. If he looked closely, tension pulled Night’s arms taut, elbows pressed too hard into his lap, tiny tremors in the forearms from pushing his stress to a hidden place most wouldn’t notice. Really seeing it had Killer shuffling up to sit again.

“Moon, I don’t regret anything. I’m mad at myself but not at this.” He sought out Night’s folded hands, grasping them with his dirtied ones. “The only thing directed at you is that you still keep hiding from me.”

“It’s...a lot to handle. You already feel overwhelmed, so I…”

“I get to decide when it’s too much Nightlight. Tell me how ya really feel.” The revulsion from his actions faded away, patiently waiting for Night to let down the wall.

It dropped all at once, a dam cracked open over his psyche, Killer awash in a million emotions, many that didn’t have names but ate at him sharply. Another piece of him soaked it in, eating up all Night’s doubts and self-loathing with glee. Killer flinched.

“It feels weird as fuck to like when you’re upset.” Killer scrunched up his face. “I prefer you smilin’. Or moaning.” He gave Night a saucy wink. His reward, a light peal of laughter, lit his soul up like a glowstick. Night cupped his wet face with a soft smile.

“I’d like that too.” A chaste kiss melted the dark atmosphere away, Killer left besotted in the wave of fondness from his lovely moon. “I will always feed on the negative, but in this, I gain strength from our love too.” He hummed softly at Killer’s enamoured look. “In sickness and health, my soul.”

The kiss was warm, but not drawn out. They were still in the training room after all.

“I guess I should clean up and apologize to Horror. Even if he forgives me, don’t mean I don’t have to apologize.” Killer stretched back. With a swing of his torso, he landed on his feet. Night stood to join him, resisting the urge to take him elsewhere for soft reassurances. “See ya tonight light?” Killer stuck his tongue out.

“It isn’t optional.” Night pulled him forward with a single hand by the collar of his hoodie. “I’d hunt you down if you tried to stay away.” His seductive smile made Killer purr.

“Hunt me down then Moonbeam. I look forward to it.” The pleasant shimmer of emotion under it all warmed his bones as he walked to his room for a change of clothes. Killer caught a glimpse of the hall mirror, taking in his wrecked appearance with little concern. With each day, he owned more and more of this new darkness, and one day soon, he’d have eternity left with Night. He flexed his arms to rest them behind his head.

“Now where is Horror?”

-

“Take Horror and get the fuck out of here.” Killer swung his blade through an ink stream. It deflected off to the side, narrowly missing Dust, who had Horror up over his shoulder.

“You can’t take Ink and Cross alone idiot.” Dust had started to back towards the exit anyway. He’d save two skins over one any day.

“Don’t need to take ‘em. Boss’s on his way, just gotta run out the clock.” His grin widened as he turned back to his opponents. The liquid hate began to pour from his sockets, dripping onto the floor, starting to puddle into pitch black pools. He slid his knife under the waterfall to coat it in the black sludge. “And I’ve gotten better at taking my time.” When he stepped forward, Cross stepped back.

“What’s the matter? Don’t tell me you’re afraid.” 

“Not a bit.” Cross’s stance shifted to put his blade between them. He kept readjusting his grip on his weapon, anxiously preparing for whatever new tricks Killer had up his sleeve. “I’m not so easily shaken.” His white eye went gold.

“I don’t think that’ll make that much of a difference.” Killer flipped his knife with ease, taunting his favorite punching bag of the Stars. Internally, he checked his balance to dodge positivity arrows. “Whatcha gunna do? Stare at me?”

Cross swung confidently in a forward dash. Killer jumped out of the way.

“I’ve got positivity on my side.” Killer almost laughed, but a shot of ink missed his face by an inch. 

“And a little help!” Ink chuckled, setting himself up around the edges of Cross and Killer’s spar as inconvenient back up. Killer blocked a direct attack, focusing his energy to spread the corruption over to Cross’s blade at point of contact. The gold eyelight flickered until Cross whipped back.

“What the hell did he do to you?” Cross curved the sword to smash into the ground with a grimace. The sludge cracked and crumbled off.

“It’s better than the nothing Dream gave you.” Killer stuck out his tongue, enraging Cross into re-engaging. 

Cross hadn’t gotten much better. His stamina had increased, drastically so, but so had Killer’s, that wasn’t making the difference. Cross stepped into the sludge pool, sliding off balance. Killer pounced on the opening. The back up ink stream caught his shoulder. He growled at the shot of pain but poured that feeling into his spark, bouncing back before Cross could even react.

Even the help wasn’t making that much of a difference. Cross just wasn’t messing up as much as usual.

Cross had always left openings in his attacks, and Killer exploited them, which upset Cross, which made him fuck up more, which made him an easier target, ad naseum until he kicked his angry, self loathing ass. Looks like he’d gone and gotten with Dream to get over himself. Well mostly, because he was still fucking up, but each success powered the positivity and that weakened Killer now, even as his own worries ate at him. It was the world’s worst snowball effect. Too absorbed in his own head; he found himself backed into a wall.

“Look who’s cornered now?” Killer hated that smile on Cross. Well, he’d either have to take a scalding or a slice to get out of this. He leaned back to push out of the corner after the swing.

“Try not to get my face. Boss’ll have no eye candy at the castle.” 

“Well we can’t have that.” The sight of the tentacle gripping Cross’s knife made him swoon.

“W-what?” Cross’s eyesight dimmed back to white with Night’s touch. “How’d you get here so fast?!” Nightmare tilted his back towards Ink.

“Killer.”

“Yes Boss.” He took off towards the painter like a bolt, powered by the Night’s aura and the dread Cross eeked over the battlefield. He listened to Nightmare’s talk while easily keeping Ink busy.

“The better question, Cross, is why Dream has not come to save you. Are you just not worth saving?” He’d wrapped Cross in his tentacles, the spark of positivity being drowned out by the overwhelming panic, much tastier than normal loathing. “Did you think you could take him alone? Did you doubt that I’d come to defend what’s mine? Or is it...you can’t call him?”

“I can call him!” But no one came.

“Don’t forget who I am. I am not easily deceived.” Night’s satisfied smile drilled into Cross’s mind. “Such a pity. He mates with you but doesn’t tend to your spark. What a waste.” He tightened his hold on Cross, wincing at the tightening pressure. “Killer can call me from any corner of the world if he chooses. He can wield my gift. You were left with nothing but the promise of feeling better, while I raised my mate higher.” Night manipulated Cross to stare at him in the eyes. “Dream truly does not understand his own power, and, by extension, you.” Condescending and conceited in turns, though Killer could feel the pride beneath.

“You and Killer?” He’d barely gotten it out before his eyelights blanked.

“Not your concern.” He’d seeped most of Cross’s strength away before throwing him towards Ink disdainfully. He broke off his fight with Killer to look over at the limp offering. “I suggest you get him out of my sight. I will not spare him a second time.” Night turned away from the crumpled heap, wrecked traitor gone as soon as Ink grabbed him.

“If I said I wanted your body now, would ya hold it against me?” Killer held his arms wide open. Nightmare walked directly into them, not even waiting until Ink had fully portaled, kissing his mate fondly.

“Have I told you that you can be insufferable at times?” Killer laughed so hard he could hardly stand up straight.

“I know I’m your favorite. No need to say anything.” With a hand to guide Night on his chin, Killer angled into another kiss, soaking in the love and affection from his moon as easily as he had his worries and troubles. Nightmare rested easily between his arms, happier than Killer had ever seen and proud beyond measure of HIS soulmate.

“I love you. You are, indeed, my favorite.” He leaned into Killer’s chest. “Now, how about we go home for some preferential treatment?”

“Moon, you just read my mind.” Killer wrapped an arm around Night’s waist, sliding the other hand along his arm until he had Night’s clasped off to the side. A perfect dance pose, Night shaking his head with fake exasperation, straightening to press against him. The portal whirled open somewhere behind them. “Let’s waltz on outta here.” Night laughed.

“Lead the way Killer.”

He grinned and waltzed them right through the portal, to home.

-

Thank god, it POSTED.

[mountain-man-cumeth]

How would you rewrite Muriel’s route?

This is the 3rd question I got with similar vibes so imma begin by saying that I am not a writer. I am a reader, a decent one, but I’m not the idea guy. I will try, though, since it seems like people are interested for some reason.

First of all I'd make some baseline changes to set the backstory proper;

Muriel chose the mantle of Lucio's executioner willingly, him and Asra had no other means to survive so they willingly worked as indentured servants under Lucio. He reasoned with himself thinking these are bad people and that he has no other skills to offer. (There might be a threat on Lucio's part that they can be replaced, he doesn't have to had given a villain speech for the implication. He is a rich tyrant and they are street kids, it the service they provide isn't up to par Lucio can easily look for alternative options.) Let me be clear, Muriel was not a gladiator. Gladiators are compensated generously for the entertainment they provide and often due to the amount of investment made on them, fighting to death wasn't a common occurrence. I'm going to go out on a limb and say that Muriel, or rather the Scourge was well known and probably liked by the crowd, there's literally no reason for Lucio to utilize him otherwise. He wants people to enjoy the show, if everybody hated Muriel what use is he to Lucio?

Kokhuri are alive. The tribe had to relocate but they left Khamgalai to tend to the graves. They are nomadic and matriarchal people who likely don't adhere to mother-father-child kind of European family structure. The children are raised communally.

Muriel's curse has nothing to do with myrrh, there's a rune that can counter it and only he knows how to make it, he figured it out by himself for Asra. Any magic that can nullify a spell by Major Arcana is no doubt strong as fuck.

I'd start similar to main 3, MC is tasked to find Lucio's murderer. They find Muriel's brush or loincloth or whatever early on which leads them to the forest but because of the protective spells and the curse they get lost. They ran into Muriel or Inanna and she leads them to Muriel hunched over the corpse. They try to help, like the canon, and have a brush with Lucio's goat ghost. They tell him they were looking for the Scourge and Muriel says there's no Scourge here.

The day after they forget about Muriel but remember the rest and relay that information to Asra, who gets agitated by Lucio's return. He thinks Lucio is here for MC's body but doesn't explain anything, instead begs them to leave town until he figures something out.

They go to see Muriel and he reluctantly agrees to accompany them to the outskirts of the forest, on Asra's request.

Some point on their road trip Asra water-calls them to inform them that Lucio is looking for hearts and the Magician (or whoever else Asra consulted) implied they might find answers South. MC still doesn't know anything except maybe some comments Muriel could have made that painted Lucio in a bad light but they decide to investigate regardless. Muriel opposes, eventually caves (either thanks to MC or Asra). He lets out that he's been tailing MC on Asra's behalf for years so it shouldn't be that much different.

They go from town to town, MC helps Muriel ease into dealing with people again and it's easier since nobody knows jack about Scourge. They learn that he enjoys card games and collecting trinkets from different cultures. He might even get a little too enthusiastic about plants and gives random advice to a gardener.

We might learn here that Muriel doesn't like feeling that he's on a display or that he's performing. He prefers to lay low and blend in, not necessarily completely shut off the world.

They run into Morga(maybe they encounter raiders or a barfight or something alike), who's also been tracking Lucio. She proposes to work together. She berates Muriel for being a coward and convinces him to fight as that's all he's good for. (I think it's better if MC trains on magic rather than archery, I'm seeing alot of disabled MCs.)

She tries to train them but Muriel doesn't respond well to fighting and eventually Morga leaves. Valdemar or Vulgora catches them, Lucio's still trying to get MC's body. They escape just barely, MC gets hurt, Muriel beats himself up over it, some angst some fluff, you know the drill. Maybe he has a panic attack because panic attacks are usually not as on the nose as "Oh No I Gotta Fight Someone With a Knife". Looking for a shelter and aid, they find a cottage which turns out to be Khamgalai's. She helps them out, teaches Muriel how to heal using the techniques of their clan, I assume MC helps since they know some restorative spells too. She tells Muriel his family sent him away when they got ambushed so he wouldn't have to live on the run as Morga's clan was on a war path to conquer South. We get sad, lots of tears. Kisses might ensue.

Somehow it's revealed that this is the answer they were looking for and not Lucio (because I think the whole "Lucio's clan" plot was redundant) and Morga was just using them as bait to get Lucio out of Vesuvia.

Morga catches on to them, we learn who she is, Muriel and MC confront her but Khamgalai says her warmongering already costed her everything. She says she's trying to make up for it by killing her son and she needs MC to lure him out, they agree to work together, begrudgingly. (MC's past can be revealed here since they need to learn what's the deal with Lucio's obsession of them at some point)

Around this point MC might realize the mark's fading, Muriel brushes it off.

Instead of Lucio, Devil comes and tells them about Lucio's plan to do the ritual again. They go back to Vesuvia to warn people

Masquerade happens, people remember Muriel, Nadia or MC or someone give people an ultimatum. But oh no it was a TRAP all along, Devil told them of the ritual to get them right where he wanted. Lucio gets in MC's body, Asra sends them to the Arcana realm, same story as main 3.

MC forgets Muriel on the Arcana realm but through the power of love and maybe some guidance from the Hermit they go "oh no i forgot my boy". They return to find him in the Coliseum. What?! He was the Scourge?! Who could've thought. (this reveal wouldn't affect MC's opinion at this point since they already know he's a cinnamon roll)

This time Lucio's blackmailing him with MC's body. He says he needs hearts to make himself a new one and if Muriel grabs some for him MC can get their body back.

Story diverges to Upright/Reversed

Upright, if MC encouraged him to take it easy, but take it: MC snatches the body of someone he's suppose to fight to change his mind, he decides not to do it and instead go with defeating Lucio on the Arcana realm plan(curtesy of their friends). So here we can have a romantic scene like in Nadia's route where his chains are broken in the Arena.

They fuck around in the Arcana realm facing their fears and stuff, they bond, defeat Lucio, petrify the Devil etc. I like to think Muriel finds the forest spirit here, too, and maybe manages to heal it or learns that it's damaged but with enough time and care it will regrow. (a metaphor? in my arcana game? its more likely than you think)

Morga is charged for war crimes by the Kokhuri, the Coliseum is demolished and the love birds travel around doing their thing.

Reversed, if MC encouraged him to be strong and uncaring: MC fails to convince him and he decides to go through with Lucio's plan. He kills Morga and some more important spirits and fucks up the world. Which turns out to be a bogus plan anyways, Lucio only needed the hearts to settle his deal and Muriel kills him, too (I am untethered, and my rage knows no bounds!)

Without a body MC is stuck in the other realm so Muriel and them retreat to the magic dimension, defeat the Devil and live the rest of their days.

There might also be a 50 first dates situation going on inwhich they get stuck in a loop where MC constantly meets and falls in love with Muriel only to forget him in a couple of (magic realm)days.

idk man this aint my job im just spitballing here, im writing this long ass thing so ill look like im working

[raedear]

Hozier drabble prompts? Don't mind if I do! This is probably cheating slightly bc it's a cover but "Do I Wanna Know?" please 🥰

Also, not on the self-titled album, but I read a Joe Nicky one-shot last year that the author recommended listening to "NFWMB" to, and I finished it in the time of the song EXACTLY, so. Ever since, that's the Hozier song that fucks most, in my opinion 😁

Full disclosure I read this ask as I was stepping out the door and my brain gave me the lyrics for a completely different Arctic Monkeys song before I could actually get this cover cued up on spotify for inspo. So I plotted a whole thing to R U Mine, and then spent the first ten minutes of my walk wondering when the fuck Hozier covered that before I checked this ask again and realised I’m just an idiot. I probably will write the R U Mine thing but cause I thought of a funny line. 

NFWMB fucks beyond BELIEF. Very few things on this earth fuck the way NFWMB fucks. 

DRABBLE TIME: I don’t know what to say about this, other than it took fuckin everything in me not to do my usual 10K words to reach the one scene I actually want to write nonsense. There’s a much longer and angstier fic hiding in here, but have the speedrun version.

He doesn’t know if Nicky wants him back, is the problem. Sure, he fucks him till Joe genuinely worries he might not be able to walk after, but that’s just it. They fuck, it’s outstanding, but then they go their separate ways. He doesn’t see Nicky again until his resolve breaks and he texts first. They don't go on dates. They don’t flirt (Joe flirts. Nicky looks at him with wide sea-grey eyes and smiles like each one costs him something and Joe drowns). The sum total of their conversations is Joe asking to meet up, and Nicky saying yes. 

**********

Booker tried to warn him off going back to Nicky, but he couldn’t help it. He wants him all the time, it’s like an addiction. He wants all that focus directed at him, wants Nicky’s hands on him, wants Nicky under him, in him, any way he can have him. 

They met in a nightclub for fuck’s sake, hardly the most promising place for something more. But Joe had Nicky once, and now he feels ruined for anyone else. 

Every time they do this, Joe promises himself it’ll be the last. He feels pathetic, crawling after a hook-up, looking for more. He can’t even bring himself to look at other people when he knows what he really wants is Nicky. It has to be written all over his face, surely. Nicky treats him well, always takes care of Joe first, kisses him deep and lush as he comes, just the way he likes, but Joe can’t get a read on him at all. Is he just scratching an itch? 

Each time hurts, but still, here he is again. On his back, looking at Nicky like he hung the moon. 

Even if Nicky just made the first move once, then Joe would know they were going somewhere. But it was him again, craving the taste of Nicky’s tongue. Nicky had answered his text with encouraging speed, but that doesn’t really mean anything. 

Nicky’s two fingers deep in him and sucking a line of bruises up Joe’s inner thigh at the same time, and Joe wants him so badly he can taste it. It gets worse when Nicky slides his way up Joe’s body, kissing as he goes, quiet as a mouse and utterly focused on touching every bit of skin that makes Joe shiver, twisting his fingers so beautifully that tears well in Joe’s eyes at the relentless pressure and pleasure of it all. By the time Nicky reaches his neck Joe’s crying in earnest, his hips rolling down to meet Nicky’s hand in a rhythm far out of his control.

Nicky kisses his tears away and rubs the pads of his fingers more firmly against his prostate, and Joe writhes against him, grasping at his shoulders; pulling him closer and babbling praise and please and more and words he can’t even understand, everything he wants crowding the tip of his tongue as Nicky pulls him apart from the inside out. 

Nicky’s whispering in his ear, and Joe struggles to quiet himself enough to listen, desperate to hear anything he has to say. Nicky’s voice is so low that Joe isn’t even sure Nicky wants him to hear him, which makes it suddenly all the more important that he does. 

‘—beautiful,’ Nicky whispers, licking the line of Joe’s collarbone, moving back down his body. Joe moans, deep and resonant in his chest as Nicky slides a third finger into him on the next thrust inward, stretching him tight around his knuckles. ‘Can’t believe you let me do this to you; let me see you like this, bello, bell’uomo, ti voglio tutto il tempo—’

It’s everything he wanted, but Joe loses the thread of Nicky’s voice as he starts to come, bucking on his fingers and almost screaming as Nicky wraps his lips around the head of his cock. He lets himself go, riding Nicky’s tongue and fingers and the memory of him calling him beautiful. 

When he blinks the stars from his eyes, Nicky’s licking his lips between his legs and looking at him with those endless grey eyes. Joe holds his hands out to him, drawing him to his chest. 

‘You want me all the time, amore?’ 

Nicky’s eyes get very wide, but Joe is merciless, he’s been waiting for any kind of sign from Nicky for too long. He hooks his arm around Nicky’s waist to hold him in place, and licks his hand to wet it for Nicky’s cock. The pace he sets is brutal, twisting on the head the way he’s seen Nicky do to himself, and Nicky’s body seizes against his, a breathy moan on his lips. 

‘You can have me all the time,’ whispers Joe, low and serious in Nicky’s ear. Nicky moans, louder than he’s ever heard him moan before. ‘Tell me you want me, I’ll be there.’ 

Nicky nods, shaky and desperate, his hips twitching into Joe’s hand.

‘Tell me, Nicky. Do you want me as much as I want you?’

Nicky moans, and swallows hard, before he breaks and gasps a yes, please Joe yes, always against his neck. 

Joe bites Nicky’s earlobe, twists his hand again, and Nicky comes across his stomach with a moan that comes from so deep in his chest it sounds like it almost hurts.

Somehow, Joe doesn’t think he’ll be crawling any more. 

[holylulusworld]

The red light is gone

Summary: Two broken souls in a cold world find solace in each other.

Pairing: Mobster!Dean x (former)Prostitute!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of prostitution, Dean is a mobster with a heart, Dean feels, comforting, fluff, protective Dean

Part 1

Normal PoV

“The red light is gone,” Dean whispers, reaching out for your hand whilst you look around the fancy restaurant. You never dined at such a place and you are sure, the food Dean ordered costs more than your whole outfit. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s only a dinner.”

“I don’t fit in here,” you look at a woman and her husband who stare at you. “My outfit doesn’t fit in, just like my make-up. I feel like I don’t belong.”

“You are my girl, Y/N. There is no need to feel out of place,” smiling Dean looks at you, not missing you blink a few tears away when the woman snorts at you. “Do you have a problem?”

Dean jumps up before you get the chance to stop him. The woman turns pale, even starts to whimper as Dean towers over her.

“Did you have anything to say to my girlfriend or are you simply impolite?”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” the woman stammers, not meeting Dean’s gaze as she tries to apologize to him. “I just thought your girlfriend’s dress is inappropriate for this kind of restaurant.” Dean hums, giving the woman a once over.

“You mean as you dress like a nun my girl has to hide her legs and perfect breasts? This is a special night to us, and you just ruined my girl’s mood. You will apologize to my lovely girl and get out of the restaurant,” the woman looks at Dean, whispering something you can’t hear. 

“Please accept my apologies,” choking the words out the woman looks at you, praying you will not ask Dean to kill her. Everyone knows who the Winchesters are in Lebanon so it’s no wonder no one wants to mess with Dean, the head of the empire. “I’m truly sorry.”

“Y/N, sweetheart,” Dean stands behind you, glaring at the woman, “will you accept her apology or do you want me to, talk to her some more.”

“It’s fine, Dean,” you chew on your lower lip, not wanting to cause a scene. “I think she’s sorry.” The mobster softly pecks your cheek, never breaking eye contact with the woman.

“Go,” he grits out. “If I hear you came back to my favorite restaurant, I will ‘talk’ some more with you, lady. This is my restaurant. Everyone who comes here respects me and the people I care about.”

“I’m sorry,” almost running out of the restaurant the woman leaves her husband behind. The man awkwardly mumbles an apology before following his wife out of the restaurant. 

“You shouldn’t have defended me, Dean. She was right,” you look down your body, sighing deeply. “Once upon the time I wore more suitable clothes. All I got in my wardrobe are slutty outfits and a pair of worn-out jeans and a few shirts.”

“You look stunning, sweetheart but,” Dean gives you a soft smile before he kisses your forehead gently, “if you want to go shopping, we will do so tomorrow. There is nothing you cannot buy, Y/N.”

“So, you want me to be your,” you wrinkle your forehead, not knowing of Dean wants you to become his ‘all-day’ whore or simply wants to fuck you for free as he owns the club now, “I don’t know what you want me to be. What role shall I play?”

Dean’s PoV

All I wanted was to show Y/N that we can be a normal pair. Well, as normal as a mobster and a former prostitute can be. Now that bitch ruined my girl’s mood and the worst is, Y/N expects me to tell her which ‘role’ she shall play for me.

“Sweetheart,” I sigh deeply when I sit next to her to cup her cheek. I run my thumb over her cheek, smiling when her eyes flutter shut. “I don’t want you to play a role. You are not my employee nor my whore.” 

“I don’t understand, Dean,” god, my girl is used to men taking advantage of her or that anyone only sees her body that she doesn’t recognize kindness when she finds it. “You said you bought the club. What for if you don’t want me to be your…whore?” she chokes the last word out and I know, Y/N fears her downfall isn’t over.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to be my whore, an employee, or someone I simply fuck to get off,” I lean closer to press my lips to the corner of her mouth. “I want you to be my girlfriend and maybe, if you will accept my proposal, my wife one day.”

“I…I don’t know why you want someone like me,” Y/N sniffs. Her eyes drop to the table and then she starts to cry. “I’m a prostitute, Dean. I sold my body and maybe even my soul to Crowley to pay for my mom’s treatment. Not that it matters anymore.”

“I know she died a few months ago, Y/N. Crowley that bastard told you he won’t let you out of your contract – am I right?” I give Y/N my softest smile but she doesn’t even meet my gaze. “This is all over, promised. If you want to, you can go wherever you want to go. I will not force you to stay with me.”

“I got nowhere to go,” she whispers and my heart, that cold lump in my chest which didn’t beat for a woman for years breaks for her. “I used all the money I made to pay for my mom’s treatment. I got nothing left.”

“That’s the reason you lived at the club, in that room?” she nods at me, a sad smile on her kissable lips. “I know this is sudden, but I want you to move in with me. There is no catch, promised. You don’t have to have sex with me if that’s the reason you are concerned.”

“I liked sex with you,” Y/N mumbles. “You always treated me with respect…,” she giggles lightly before her eyes drop to my lips, “and orgasms.” I can’t hold back a groan at her words, especially when Y/N looks at me with these doe eyes I love so much.

“How about we get to know each other before we do more than talk?” I hate myself for the things I just said but to win Y/N’s trust and to show her she’s not a random girl to me, I’d do anything. “You can have one of my guest rooms and decide if you want…” Y/N grasps my hand, squeezing it tightly before she, yet again, starts to cry.

“No one ever offered their help to me without wanting something in return,” she doesn’t let go of me, holds onto my hand for dear life whilst she tears up. I think my girl cries all the tears she held back for too long right here, in the middle of my favorite restaurant during our first date.

I don’t care people look at us when I bring Y/N into my arms to soothe her pain. I just wish we meet before all this happened to her. 

The time can’t be turned back but, I can do everything in my power to make her feel like herself again, not a toy someone plays with. “I promised to you there is no catch. I won’t break my promise. Never.”

Normal PoV

The room is warm. A large bed with a soft mattress welcomes you when you sit down to have a look around the room. There is a shelf filled with books you talked about with Dean and to the left is a walk-in wardrobe full of clothes your size.

Dean mentioned he told his maid to buy stuff for you to make sure you will feel comfortable at his house. You still don’t know why he wants you to become his girlfriend, though.

“Do you need anything else?” through the left door is a bathroom, including a huge bathtub and a steam shower. The kitchen is downstairs to the right if you get hungry or you can just dial 1 and Ellen will bring you food.”

“I,” you glance around the room before you meet Dean’s gaze. Unlike any other time, you met him he wears sweatpants and a wifebeater. Dean leans against the doorframe, just watching you tug at the flannel you chose to wear. 

“Sweetheart, you must talk to me if you need anything,” he pushes off the doorframe to step into the room. “Are you hungry?”

“Tired,” you look at Dean, awkwardly pointing toward the bed. “I am not used to not have a visitor at night,” he chuckles now, giving you his sexy smirk. “Can you stay for a while? Not for sex but…”

“If you want to,” he steps closer, holding out his hand, “you can sleep in my room or I’ll stay here.” you look at the bed one last time before you whisper, ‘your bed’. “You sure Y/N? I don’t want you to tell me what I want to hear. 

Dean’s PoV

It’s an odd feeling to have her in my bed and not to touch her. No, odd is not the right word. Having Y/N in my bed, curled into my side, one hand placed onto my heart is all I ever dreamed of since that first night I spend with her.

She shifts slightly in her sleep to snuggle closer to me. I assume she seeks my warmth or wants to feel safe in a foreign bedroom. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I will not break my promise, Y/N. If you want to go, I will not hold you back.”

“I don’t know if I’m the right choice, Dean,” her soft voice barely above a whisper Y/N looks up at me. There is the shy girl I got to know in fleeting moments when we just lay on the bed in her room and talked about nonsense. She looks like an innocent angel when she lets her mask fall. “What will your family and friends think? You left your wife for a whore.”

“Never say something like that again,” I say a bit too harsh. “You are not a whore only as you chose to help your mother. This part of your life is in the past. For months you only had sex with me and, I never paid Crowley for it.”

“You didn’t pay him?” I dip my head to brush my lips over her forehead before she can pull away. “I…I had sex with you for free?”

“I didn’t think you would mind,” I grin, eyes dropping to Y/N’s lips. “I always enjoyed making you cum.” she hums at my words, eyes now darker. “I know you loved to feel me too.”

“I enjoyed being with you, Dean,” my lips meet hers. It’s the first kiss I give Y/N as her boyfriend. Well, at least I hope the way she looks up at me means she wants me to be the man in her life. “When I imagined being with someone outside of the club, it was always you.”

“Always me,” I claim her lips again, gently, and careful. I want to make love to her, but not tonight. There is a time for sex later. Tonight, I want her to feel safe, loved, and to enjoy intimacy without being naked.

“You really want me to be your girl?” she whispers against my lips, smiling as I show her my feelings with my lips and hands.

“The red light is gone, sweetheart. There is only a guy and a girl who try to find someone to trust and love. If you are willing to give me a chance, I will not disappoint you, Y/N.”

“I’m willing to risk it…” Y/N whispers and I crush my lips onto hers to show her how much her words mean to me.

Part 3

SPN Forever Tags

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

@spnfamily-j2​

@supernatural-bellawinchester​

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[popcrone818]

Spitfire-chapter 3

Sorry that I've been gone for so long, here is the next chapter in my Sweet Pea story.

Hope you enjoy please leave feedback.

Aurora’s POV

I stormed out of Sweet Pea’s trailer, tears coming to my eyes as the scene played on repeat in my mind. He only saw me as a friend nothing more, no matter how close we had been. I heard a bang coming from his trailer and I knew that he knew I wasn’t coming back. I sat in my car just outside Sunnyside Trailer park as I watched Toni and Fangs ride in on their bikes. I knew they were going to Sweet Pea’s as today was our normal day of watching movies until we got bored and ordered food. It’ll be a shock to them that I’m not there cuddled up to him already. I threw my car into drive and took off back to my house, hoping that Archie was with Veronica and that dad was at work. I didn’t want to deal with anyone else today I just wanted to lay in the bath and listen to music. There were no cars in the drive way when I got home so I headed straight upstairs to my bathroom and started running a bath with bubbles for myself. I had cried the whole way home and my eyes were puffy and my makeup smudged. I lit a few candles around the bathroom before I heard the doorbell ring just as I was about to get undressed. I groaned and headed back downstairs my socked feet making little noise on the hardwood floors.

“This better be fucking good I’m not in the mood.” I swung the door open to be face to face with Toni. She grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into her body. I felt sobs wrack my body as she moved us inside.

“It’s okay, come one I know that you want a bath, I’ll help you.” She led me upstairs and back into the bathroom that smelt like the teakwood candles I had lit before Toni arrived. She helped me undressed which isn’t weird even though she’s gay, this isn’t the first time Sweet Pea has been a dick and I’ve needed a bath. She switched on her playlist specifically designed for moments like these and she came to sit on the edge of the bath with some make up wipes. After helping me take off my smudged makeup she sat down on the cold tile of the bathroom and turned to me. “Tell me what happened. He told us what happened but what happened with your side.” I sunk down lower in the bath before I answered her.

“Basically he thinks that I need protecting, that I’m so fucking breakable that he needs to protect me from everyone.” I took a deep breath and looked at her.

“Oh honey, no he doesn’t, he knows how strong you are. You have never not once backed down from putting him in his place, when most people would from one single glance from him. That first day we met you I remember talking to him once you left, he said that no one has ever stood up to him like that. We teased him saying that he liked you but he brushed us off. When you did your dance he couldn’t take his eyes off you. But I know for a fact he wasn’t thinking sexually, there was nothing going on in his pants when Fangs looked at him. That may sound bad but what I’m really trying to tell you is that; he may be a dick, and he may have anger issues that he really needs to resolve but he does like you, as more than a friend, he’s just afraid of you leaving, he only has us. Well us and the serpents, but even then he really only has the three of us and he’s terrified of any of us leaving him.” I blinked back tears as her words sunk in. I had just walked out of one of my best friends lives just because he called me a friend and because I thought he thought of me as breakable.

“Should I go back over there?” I asked her.

“God no, make him grovel, you’re a badass bitch who don’t need no man. Make him want you that much more, make him squirm. Honestly he probably deserves it. Tonight you and I are having a girls night.” She giggled causing me to giggle. “Now where do you hide your face masks?” I pointed out the bottom drawer in the vanity. She nodded and got out all the different masks that I have before she took off out the door. I shook my head at her before she came back in dressed in a pair of my pjs and carrying another pair along with underwear for me. She was wearing a light green pair that consisted of booty shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top. For me she had grabbed my black booty shorts with my huge tshirt that I had stolen from Sweet Pea. I glared at her before I got out wrapping a towel around my body and drying off.

“I thought we were trying to make me feel better not make me miss him.” I held up the shirt to the front of my body.

“Shit I forgot that was his.” I waved her off and pulled it over my head. I may be pissed at him but he still smelt amazing. Even the candles I had put on reminded me of his scent. We spent the rest of the night talking shit about Sweet Pea and Fangs and also laughing our asses off at memories either with or without the boys as we did masks and watched stupid girly movies which made the both of us cry.

Sweet Pea’s POV

Summer had came quickly. Rory was avoiding me at any cost, serpent meetings she would stay by the bar with Toni, or she would be working the bar. She never came to the wyrm to just hang out anymore and when I saw her in school she kept her headphones in and her head down. I had been spending a lot of time with Josie McCoy and she was fun sure but she was no Rory, I thought she could help me get over her but she couldn’t. She and I were just using each other and called it a summer fling but a couple weeks in I couldn’t do it anymore. I had watched Rory laughing at Fangs and Toni in the wyrm and I just felt like absolute shit, so I stormed out of the wyrm jumped in my bike and made my way to Josie’s.

“Didn’t know we had a hook up scheduled.” She chuckled as she opened her door.

“I’m not here for a hook up.” I told her looking down at my feet. “I cant keep doing this Josie, I’m sorry.” I went to turn back around and leave when she grabbed my shoulder turning me around. Her lips were on mine and before I could even think we were up in her room hooking up yet again. I looked at her and suddenly I couldn’t see Josie anymore I saw Rory which made me kiss down her neck and bite harshly. I felt her moan which only spurred me on more.

It wasn’t until I was laying down staring up at the ceiling that I finally saw Josie not Rory. I frowned and looked at Josie before I got up to collect my clothes.

“This is it, no more I cant keep doing this to myself.” I told her as I buckled my belt back up.

“You love her don’t you?” She asked as she wrapped a sheet around her body.

“Who?” I asked her playing dumb, in the last 6 months all I have been able to think about is Rory, I have finally come to the realisation that the things we used to do we did because I liked her.

“Aurora Andrews.” I looked down at the floor as I shrugged on my jacket.

“Yeah I do. I have since I met her.”

“Then go get her dumbass. You’re the reason she has changed and you and I were only doing this so that we could forget other people. And I know I’m not the only one it hasn’t worked for. I don’t know how many times you’ve called me Rory.” I turned away from her and started to head out the door. “I hope it works out for you Sweet Pea, you’re a really great guy and I’m sorry for using you these past couple of weeks.”

“I’m sorry too, I hope everything works out for you.” With that I walked out of her room and out of her house.

I made my way to Wyrm knowing tonight was a night she was doing a shift with Toni, I had to talk to her, I needed to talk to her even if I can only get her back as a friend I don’t care. I quickly spotted Toni as I walked in, but she quickly ducked into the room behind the bar.

Aurora POV

Toni joined me in the back room as I tied my hair up getting ready for my shift.

“He’s here, you either start the plan now or you keep waiting hoping life will go on. But I know the both of you are miserable without the other.” She went to turn around and walk out before I spoke up.

“He has Josie now.” She spun back around to me as my voice was so quiet. “He doesn’t want me anymore and the plan is now null and void. Can I just have the night off?” She shook her head and grabbed both of my shoulders before pushing me out the door. I stumbled a little bit before I crashed into a strong chest. Their arms wound around my waist and I was hit wth a familiar scent, one I hadn’t smelt in months, other than the occasional candle that had a similar scent. Minus the leather and cigarette smell. I looked up craning my neck slightly as I was in heels so I wasn’t as short as I normally would be, and I found myself lost in his deep dark pools of whiskey. He cleared his throat and I pushed myself away from his strong arms and chest standing on my own. I crossed my arms over my chest and just stared at him as I waited for him to say something.

“Rory.” He breathed out reaching his hand out to me. I took another step back away from him and saw his face fall. “I’m sorry about that night, I’m a fucking idiot, I didn’t realise only calling you a friend and making you think that I thought you were fragile would do this. I like protecting you, even though I know you can protect yourself, I like knowing that I’m needed. These past couple of months I have missed your touch, have missed our banter, I’ve missed the way you push me to be someone better than just a drug running Serpent. Aurora Andrew’s I miss you so much and I never thought I would ever say that about a Northsider but you are different.” He took a deep breath and our eyes locked. I felt my resolve crumple around me and I reached my arms up and tangled my hands in his hair bringing his body closer to mine. Feelings aside, because he never mentioned them and I knew he was with Josie now, I knew I missed my best friend.

“Ive missed you too Sweets, I’ve missed sitting on you, I’ve missed our movie nights and cuddles. I’ve missed everything about you even the way you smell, which sounds weird now that I say that out loud. I had this whole plan to make you regret being a dick but standing here in your arms I know that I never want to go that long without your arms wrapped around me again.” I buried my head in his chest and I felt him chuckle as he ran his fingers through my hair.

“What did this plan entail?” He asked me pulling away from me slightly.

“Basically it was just making you regret the way that you spoke to me, showing you I wasn’t fragile and kicking some Ghoulie ass, but thinking about that now I can see how stupid it was.” I laughed and brought him in for another hug. His head rested in the crook of my neck and I felt his breath fan over the exposed skin.

“Rory, shift is starting!” I heard Toni yell from behind the bar. I pulled away from Sweet Pea and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before I strutted away swinging my hips more than normal as I felt his eyes on me. He is such a boy. I joined Toni behind the bar and watched as Sweet Pea walked over to Fangs to start a game of pool. “So… that looked promising?” She questioned me as we started to serve some of the patrons of the bar.

“He apologised and told me all of these cute things that he missed about me, I was fucking putty in his hands and he knew that. I wanted to make him work for it but as soon as I felt his touch I was fucking gone. Toni I think I love that man over there.” She squealed and pulled me into her.

“I’m so gad you finally see it. Ive been saying that for months and you’ve just brushed me off every time. I actually remember you threatening me over it once too.” We giggled at each other and my eyes found Sweet Pea, he was already looking at me and we made eye contact before I blushed and turned away from him back to the job at hand of getting the older serpents drunk.

“Hey pretty lady, what are you doing after you finish up here?” I heard a deep baritone voice coming from behind me and instantly tensed up. I turned around slowly and threw the rag I had in my hands at Sweet Pea.

“I was seriously about to cuss you out and tell you I had a boyfriend, they always leave me alone when I do that.” He threw the rag back at me and I got back to the tedious job of cleaning all the glasses.

“You get that often then I assume?” He asked me as he sat at the bar. I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed a beer out for him.

“Every so often, once they saw I wasn’t around you as often they started to get worse. I guess your just a really scary badass Serpent that even the older serpents are afraid of.”

“Yeah I kicked one of their asses a few months back and no one has looked me in the eye since.” He took a swig of his beer before my attention had to be taken away by another Serpent.

“Hey hot stuff!” I rolled my eyes but went over to him anyway. “Once your done with mister 30 seconds I’ll take a beer and your number thanks.” He winked at me and I watched from the corner of my eyes as Sweet Pea clenched and unclenched his fists. I bent over slightly more than I needed to in Sweet Pea’s line of sight as I got the beer out.

“You can have the beer, because that’s my job, but my number and my attention are saved for him, so I would appreciate any rude remarks to be kept to a minimum or non existent.” I sent him a wink and shoved the beer into his hand before turning back to Sweet Pea.

“Um, when did that happen?” He asked gesturing to my body.

“Um, when my big cuddly teddy bear decided to be a dick. I told you I could take care of myself, now you’ve seen me in action.” I rolled my eyes at him as he looked back over to the perv from before. “Plus he probably heard you hit on me and I didn’t say anything so he thought it was alright tonight.” I shrugged and started to wipe down the bar.

“I always knew you could handle yourself Rory, I’m just very protective, and I guess you could say territorial as well.” He looked down at the bar not meeting my eyes.

“Oh I know you are Sweets, why do you think I let you give me all those hickies anyway?” He gave me a questioning look finally meeting my eye as I leant against the bar on the other side.

“Wait, what? You knew I was doing that to keep pervs like that fuckwit away from you?” He asked me, I nodded and leant over closer to him on the bar. My boobs getting squished between the bar top and my body.

“Of curse I did, I also knew you beat up the first Serpent that tried to hit on me too. I’m not stupid Sweets.”

“Never said you were. What time do you get off anyway?” He asked me as I leaned back to look at the clock.

“Uh, in 15 why?”

“Movies at mine? No Fangs, no Toni just the two of us?”

“Absolutely!” I looked around for Toni hoping I could get off early. I found her over by the pool tables with Fangs. “You go talk to her, I’ll make sure everything is right for her to take over.” He nodded and got up making his way over to Toni and Fangs, I saw her nod her head as I wiped the bar clean.

“So you having movie night without us tonight?” She asked as she retied her apron on her hips. I nodded and blushed. “Get out of here, and if I don’t get an update tonight I’ll assume things went great and we should start planning your wedding tomorrow.” She winked at me causing me to blush even darker. She pulled me into a tight hug before placing a kiss on my cheek.

“Ready?” Sweet Pea asked from behind Toni. I nodded and pulled off my apron before going into the back to get my things. Sweet Pea placed a hand in the small of my back as we made our way out of the Wyrm.

“USE PROTECTION!” I heard Fangs yell from inside and I blushed and looked at Sweet Pea.

“Toni also thinks something is going to happen tonight.”

“It can if you want.” He whispered in my ear before handing me his helmet. I shook my head and gestured to my own bike. His eyes nearly fell out of his head at my baby. I grinned before placing a kiss on his cheek and skipping off to my bike, turning the key and hearing the engine roar to life. I looked back to Sweet Pea who hadn’t moved yet, his jaw going slack before I winked at him and sped off to his trailer.

Being back in his trailer again after so many weeks of not being here was weird, he handed me a glass of water before we sat down on his couch and faced each other.

“How have you been?” He sat down his glass and licked his lips. I found myself watching his every move.

“Not too bad, been busy working and you know things with school.” He ran his fingers through his hair and I felt my fingers twitch.

“Okay, look we used to be close, I want to get back to that and this small talk bullshit is not helping our situation. In the last couple of months we have both been avoiding each other, after you stormed out of my trailer Toni told me why she thought I lost you. Look, I called you a friend because I thought that’s what we were, just best friends.”

“Look I understand that we were friends and I know that you calling me a friend shouldn’t have effected me the way that it did. But it happened and I acted on impulse,”

“The way that you left effected me in a way that it shouldn’t have as well. We were both acting on emotions, I love you Aurora, that is why I protect you, that is why I acted the way I did with Mantle that day, and why I got so emotional when you told me you could handle yourself. I know you can but I like feeling like I’m needed, needed by someone so important in my life. It gives me a feeling of accomplishment. I miss the feeling of your fingers on my skin, I miss when you would push me in the chest when I was being a dick, I miss you sitting in my lap and wrapping my arms around you, I miss cuddling in the couch and watching movies until all hours of the night.” He reached forward and took my hand in his anger one, he looked down at our interlocked hands and started to fidget with one of my many rings. “These past couple of months have been hell for me, as Im sure it has been for you. Toni hardly spoke to me she would talk to me through Fangs, and I knew she was with you when she wasn’t with us. It killed me not having you right beside me.” I squeezed his hand and looked into his deep whiskey eyes. I’m could see a slight sheen to his eyes and squeezed his hand again.

“Sweet’s, these months have been just as hard for me too, that’s why Toni stayed with me. I reacted the way I did because I thought we had something, because I thought you could see I could handle myself and when you would jump in it made me feel like you didn’t have that faith in me. I thought you cared enough to let me be myself. It hurt Sweet Pea,”

“Noah,” I cocked my head to the side and looked at him strangely. “My name, its Noah.” He looked down at his lap and I felt my face contort into a smile. “No one knows, so please keep it to yourself.” He avoided looking up at me. I reached forward with my free hand and grasped his jaw tilting his head to look at me. I held his gaze.

“Noah, I will never let anyone know. Thank you for sharing that with me.” He let go of my hand and I felt his calloused hands rest on either side of my face.

“I want to do something.” I nodded my head holding eye contact with him. He leaned in pulling my face closer to his, I closed my eyes as his lips gently brushed mine before he pulled my face even closer and deepened the kiss. He pulled away from me slowly I kept my eyes closed but caressed his hands gently as they laid on my jaw. “Aurora Andrews, I have loved you since you stood up to me, I felt soft and weak under your gaze,” I felt his thumb softly rub his thumb against the apple of my cheek. “I honestly hated the feeling but I found myself drawn to you, to feel your touch and to feel your gaze on my skin once again. I craved the feeling of your skin on mine, I became protective of you, I hated it when you joined and did the dance, I never wanted this life for you, I don’t even want this life for me, but if you feel the same I will work tirelessly to give you the life that you deserve.” I felt a tear roll down my cheek and Sweet Pea was quick to wipe it away. I opened my eyes and felt myself get lost in his honey coloured eyes.

“Of course I feel the same, I’m strong but I feel weak around you, I feel butterflies whenever you touch me, which is a lot by the way. I want a life with you Noah, we can get out of this together and have what we want.” I took his hands off my face and held them in my own. “I love you Noah.”

“I love you Aurora.” I pulled his face closer to mine and planted my lips on his, he pulled back slowly and rested his forehead on mine. “Be mine?” I nodded keeping my eyes closed when he pulled me impossibly closer almost sitting on his lap before kissing me passionately with his arms wrapped around my waist.

[khaleesiofalicante]

GUESS WHO'S BAAAACCCCCKKKKKK

THAT'S RIGHT! IT'S ME!

LEMME JUST SAY the number of times you've made me cry with your fics isn't even funny anymore...

ok ok ok but LEXI OMG SHE'S SUCH A HERONDALE SDYJCDCGYGYCDGYUYUGZSDGYUGYUACGYUMSGYUMSZD I LOVE HER SO MUCH

And "Jason talk dirty to me" is the best way to start a fic, I said what I said.

Don't we all hate zoom meetings? I know I sure do and I have class in 5 and a half hours (i woke up at 1 am...don't even question it). Technically i was gonna try and go back to sleep when I remembered HOLY SHIT LBAF FUCK SLEEP I CAN STAY UP

Also...KIERARKTINA CHILDREN XSUHSGYDSDGJM IM SCREAMING. At first, i was like...one child...TWO CHILD???? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Patrick...I never really knew the guy well but Aline is grieving LEAVE ME ALONE TO CRY

Lexi wrinkled her nose at the name. “I have a message for you.”

“You love me more than mom?” Jace asked.

THE WAY SHE SAID YES WITHOUT HESITATION

but seriously though...do silent brothers wear clothing under their robes...?

ALL THAT FORESHADOWING ABOUT "Darker times" IM SCARED AND I ALSO BELIEVE THIS ISN'T JUST ABOUT THE COHORT.

“I’m not a child!” Lexi protested.

You are seven years old, brother Enoch pointed out. He had been there to place the protection charms after the twins had been born.

If Jace didn’t know any better he’d say the silent brother was sassing her.

But Lexi was a Herondale.

“I’m 49 in dog years!” Lexi huffed.

You are not a dog, Alexandra.

“Daddy said I can be anything I want to be,” Lexi stuck out her tongue. “I’m a dog. A very old dog. Woof!”

Brother Enoch turned to him as if to say, ‘control your Herondale spawn’.

HERONDALE SPAWN.

There is so much going on in these lines BUT LEXI IS A WHOLE ASS MOOD YES BESTIE IF YOU WANNA BE A DOG THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE GONNA BE FUCK EVERYTHING ELSE!! WOOF

Jace knew many children had been orphaned by the war with the cohort - like Diego’s daughter, who had been adopted from the Chennai Institute.

This part scared me because for a second I was like "IS DIEGO DEAD??????" before I read on and my mind caught on.

ok on to my second favorite character right after Lexi

DAVID MY CHILD I SAY WE KILL ALBERT. SCREW THE PRISON I'M GONNA BURN THIS BITCH ALIVE

THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF HIM. DAVID IS A CHILD HONESTLY FUCK YOU. I WAS SO ANGRY THIS LITTLE SHIT HOW DARE HE.

I just wanna squeezes David into a bear hug ill protect him from now.

THE FAIRCHILD-HERONDALE FAMILY IM GONNA SCREAM

THEY ARE SO PRECIOUS ISTG AHDGYJDYUKCYDVYGDJHVCGYJMDV

Max stamped his foot on the ground, because he liked to be theatrical about everything

Im sure we all know where he gets it from...

“Shall we go check on the little miscreants?”

“Max and Rafe aren’t that bad,” Jace replied faithfully.

“I was talking about your girls,” Magnus grinned. “My boys are literal angels.”

“One of them is a warlock,” Jace pointed out. “With demon blood.”

“You know your family descended from Tessa, right?” Magnus asked. “Your children have demon blood too.”

“Yikes, no wonder people want us gone,” Jace chuckled and Magnus chuckled with him.

THIS WHOLE CONVERSATION THEY HAVE COME SO FAR ISTG IM GONNA CRY

“Did you know there is a trick to find out if kids are really sleeping?”

“A magic trick?” Jace asked.

“Yes,” Magnus winked. “You see…When kids are asleep, really asleep, they put up right hand. Only parents know of this secret.”

Rafael and Selena remained still, his little celery still snoring gently.

Max’s hand slowly went up and Lexi’s followed.

A bark of laughter escaped Jace, and Magnus shushed him.

“Miscreants!” Jace whispered.

“I told you so!” Magnus chuckled.

“I know of another secret. I heard the Consul has a new punishment for kids who lie,” Jace said. “They apparently have to eat Izzy’s food.”

The hands flopped back into bed immediately and Magnus covered his mouth to control his laughter.

THE DOMESTICITY OF THIS SCENE OH MY GOD

also TIAN!! ISTG IF WE DON'T SEE HIM IN TWP OR TEC 3 MARRIED AND HAPPY WITH JIN FENG IM GONNA BE VERY SAD

“Damn, I would have gladly punched you in the face, Herondale. Next time, ask for volunteers.”

Damn bestie-

“This is ridiculous! I didn’t do anything!” Albert yelled and looked at the brother Enoch. “You saw what they did, right?”

I’m a silent brother, Albert. I can’t see. Surely you know that.

Exactly you blind fuck.

we got Jace and alec brotp bonding leave me alone to cry in a corner. the fact that shadowhunters don't have laws protecting children like wtf is wrong with you people

“Alexandra,” his parabatai interrupted. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” “Shouldn’t you be in Los Angeles?” Lexi countered.

LEXI AYUAHGUSUSUGWDCDGD,DCGKSDYG,SDGSCDH.

“Max is awake?” Magnus was alert now.

“And Max is hungry!!!” the boy walked into the room.

Live footage of me every morning (or evening. or night. depends on my sleep schedule)

DAVID LEGIT HAD A LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT MOMENT MY PRECIOUS

HE NEEDS TO BE PROTECTED AT ALL COSTS

“Oh my god, who is this?” Max yelled and jumped straight into the bed, right next to David. “Are you a shadowhunter? Where are you from? Your eyes are so blue! My daddy has blue eyes too! Wait, I also have blue eyes! We both have blue eyes!”

Max- PLEASE THIS IS SO CUTE

“Yay!” Lexi yelled. “You could pretend to be my other twin.”

“Then you would be triplets,” Alec mumbled quietly. “Not twins.”

Oh shush

“Our people are not going to like this, Alec,” Jace pointed out.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Alec said unapologetically. “I’m the Consul.”

YES BITCH SHOW THEM

I really hope Albert does have to come crawling back and have his marks stripped.

“Is that...Is that a stubble?” Jace asked when something prickled his cheek.

“Yes.”

"Are you growing a beard?" Jace inquired sceptically.

"Yes."

“Gross. I don’t like it,” Jace complained.

“Too bad. Cause I do.”

“I’m going to tell Magnus to shave it off while you are asleep,” Jace muttered.

“Jokes on you. He likes it too.”

Jace weren't you starting to grow a beard in TDA as well-

no, but I'm with Jace on this one.

“So, I heard an interesting story from Magnus when I came in,” his wife said, coming out of her bathroom, wiping her face with a towel. “You adopted a kid, I hear? Your parabatai is really rubbing off on you, huh?”

It's the alec affect bestie.

“He only said there is a child at the institute who needs my help. At first, I thought he was talking about you.”

I-

Jace trying to find David a new last name was so goddamn sweet I'm crying in a corner. And David choosing to keep his name as a reminder that he survived??? TEARS

Selena had learned Spanish so she can talk to Rafael. Then she had learned French just because she could.

Oh to be good at languages...

“It means darling,” Jace corrected and then beamed. “But wait! It also means cabbage! David, you are going to be my little cabbage.”

Lexi, Selena, and Clary groaned in unison.

“You’ll have to deal with this, David,” Clary said apologetically, not letting go of the boy. “Lexi is Lettuce. Selena is Celery and I’m Carrot.”

AJHHUHYUCDJILSDYVGILCQBCDHCUOUCEDCCSCUHKK SCREAMING

DAVID YOU ARE GONNA BE EATING PIZZA TONIGHT SCREW VEGETABLES.

THE LIBRARY SLEEPOVER!!! SQUEALS. I LOVE READING TOO I WANNA JOIN THEM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That was so long wtf-

and I guess I don't truly understand what it's like to be a child abuse victim but to all those who can hurt a child and not feel anything...I hope they fucking pay for what they do. All those kids who survive are so goddamn strong but why the fuck does one have to go through so much shit and people be like "oh you came out stronger" sure bitch but they didn't deserve this shit in the first place. i might be saying it wrong but we seriously need more strict laws against this kind of shit.

damn, I curse a lot. SEE YA ON FRIDAY BYE

Me scrolling through this entire liveblog like:

Thank you so much. It made my day! I love reading reactions!!! (lol you know that)

I am so glad you like the first chapter. And I curse a lot too so issokay ;)

And thank you for that last point. It's what we need more of in this world - empathy and understanding x.

And we definitely need better laws - but these laws also need to be implemented correctly - without judgment and with efficiency.

We have a long way to go just like the shadowhunters oof.

[send-me-your-hcs]

Mafia boss Tony sends his son Peter away at a young age to live with his aunt and uncle. Every month he goes to visit his son. Maybe he takes Peter somewhere nice like the movies or Central Park. Without fail, their nights together always ends with Tony balls deep in a sobbing Peter. A support check arrives for Peter the next morning.

Oh fuck me I love this prompt. Ty anon

Warnings: Age unspecified Peter but IMPLIED very underage, incest, noncon, creepy dark bio dad!Tony, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

“You’ve grown.”

The boy sinks lower in his chair, attempting to hide behind the other side of the table. He still hasn’t looked Tony in the eyes once since he picked him up from the Parkers’. It goes beyond Peter’s regular shyness - the boy is fidgety, morose. A typical teenager, maybe. Except that he’s not.

When Tony gives him an impatient look, Peter meekly shrugs, responding without responding. He’s always been a very quiet boy, but the silent treatment is especially irritating. Tony takes a sip of his wine in an attempt to crush the feeling. Their visit’s only just begun. It’s too early to fight.

When the waiter comes to refill his glass, Tony says, “And one for him, too.” Peter looks up, shocked, adorably concerned, but the waiter doesn’t bat an eye as he fills the empty wine glass beside his iced tea. This isn’t the first time Tony’s brought his son here. Even if it had been, everyone knows they’d lose a lot more than Tony’s business if they dared refuse his request.

Peter stares at the glass once the waiter leaves. Tony smiles at him as he sips his own, but the boy’s gaze is fixated. “Drink up,” he orders softly, watching the worry deepen on Peter’s handsome face. He doesn’t move. “Drink it, Peter.”

The boy’s hands shake as he lifts the heavy glass to his lips. Everything about it reminds Tony how young his son is - the way his face scrunches up at the taste, the way he carefully lifts the glass by the bowl with both hands, not trusting himself to use the stem. The way his hands look terribly, unbelievably small, his fingers short and thin as they wrap around the wide bowl beneath the rim. He truly is just a little slip of a thing. Bigger than last month, sure, he’s at that age. But only just starting the long ascent into adulthood.

It’s only been a month since they last saw each other, but already, Peter’s hand-me-down clothes are fitting just a little better than they were before, not as loose and baggy around the ankles, not hanging as low down his thighs. The Parkers tried to dress him up, as they always do, but they seem to have some aversion to using Tony’s money to buy his son nice things. The button-up shirt and dress slacks they wrapped him in are clearly Ben’s, trimmed and hemmed amateurishly to fit tighter on Peter’s skinny body. Any charm the look has is only attributed to the fact that it’s Peter wearing it.

“Apparently I need to take you shopping,” Tony muses, mostly to himself. “Drink, Peter. We’ll have a different wine when dinner is served.”

Peter takes a long, deep breath through his nose and lifts the glass to his lips again, then steels himself and gulps the rest of the burgundy liquid down. Tony chuckles, pointedly not mentioning that the alcohol is going to hit him much faster now, and lets the boy go back to sulking, tense and silent, in his chair.

—

After dinner, Tony loads a wobbly, light-headed Peter into his car and drives him to the Hall of Science. Peter is a little more animated as they walk around and take everything in, but Tony suspects that’s mostly the alcohol’s doing. The boy still hasn’t said much and he shies away when Tony wraps an arm around his shoulders, flinching at the contact. Tony buys him a little souvenir at the giftshop and ruffles Peter’s hair when the boy mumbles a quiet thank you.

They don’t say a word on the drive to the hotel. Peter’s never once asked why Tony doesn’t bring him to the penthouse during their visits, and Tony’s in no hurry to tell him. If the Parkers have told his son what he truly does for a living, behind the scenes, Peter’s never acted differently for it. He’s still the same sullen little boy he’s always been.

The room Tony rented is a bright and vast penthouse suite that costs more money per night than the Parkers pay for their monthly mortgage. The California King bed stands in the middle of the main room like a centerpiece, drawing your gaze to it as soon as you walk through the door. Tony suspects that’s not the reason Peter hasn’t taken his wide eyes off it. He stays huddled in the foyer, fidgeting with the toy Tony bought him at NYSCI, looking terribly lost.

Tony pours himself a glass of scotch at the bar and pulls his tie free from his neck. “Come here, Peter,” he calls gently, watching the boy teeter and debate whether or not he should obey. In the end, he knows there’s nowhere else to go. He keeps his head down as he shuffles his feet forward into the room, like he’s dragging himself towards his father.

Tony sips his drink and looks the boy over. He’s growing up. Every month he gets more beautiful, his features filling out to define his gentle face. If he resembles anyone in their family, it’s Tony’s own mother, with that soft head of hair and big, dark bambi eyes.

He cups the boy’s chin, thumbing over his bottom lip. Peter’s eyes are already glazing over with tears. It makes Tony’s skin itch, all the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Peter has always been so receptive to him. Always reacting. Feeling. Submitting.

He takes the back of the boy’s head to hold him still, grip tightening ever so slightly as he leans down and kisses him.

—

Harsh, labored breaths ghost over the pillows Peter’s face is buried in. Tony trails kisses over his shoulder blades, hips still gently rocking as he rides out his orgasm. Peter’s knuckles are bone-white as they clutch the sheets, strangling the soft material for all he’s worth.

Tony pants against his son’s back. The silky clutch around his softening cock is absolutely divine; warm and dripping wet where they’re still sealed together. Peter’s back trembles as he struggles to hold in his hiccuping sobs, making his tight skin dance across Tony’s lips.

“My good boy,” Tony sighs happily against Peter’s glistening skin. He kisses him again and grinds his hips against Peter’s ass, grinning when the boy whines and shivers. “Did you get off, honey? Did you come for Daddy?”

Peter gives him a stiff, curt nod, but when Tony wedges a hand beneath his hips to his pelvis, he finds his cock still hard, the tip leaking. He clicks his tongue in disapproval and wraps his hand around the boy’s shaft. “Peter. Why are you lying to me? It’s obvious you didn’t come.”

“I don’t want to,” Peter slurs into his pillow, pleading. “I just wanna go to sleep now, Dad, please.”

“That would be rude,” Tony scolds, pulling back so he can roll the boy over. Peter is quick to bury his face in his arms, trying to hide his tears, as if it’s the first time he’s ever cried during sex, and not the norm. “Let Daddy make you feel good.”

The whimper that leaves Peter’s pink little mouth when Tony swallows him down is gorgeous. He encourages Peter’s hips to rock upwards, rutting against his face, until the broken sobs turn to pleasure-filled groans. Tony trails his lips up to the head of Peter’s pretty little cock and back down, sucking hard, smiling when Peter’s hips stutter, his orgasm fast approaching.

He pulls back in time to let the boy finish all over his cute little belly. Peter’s labored breaths return to quiet sobs, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to pierce the skin. “Don’t do that,” Tony says, pulling Peter’s lip from his teeth with the pad of his thumb. “You’ll leave a mark, Pete.”

Peter drops his arms from his face. His eyes stay glassy with tears and glued to the ceiling as Tony wipes the come from their bodies with Ben’s old dress shirt.

“I’m going to give you a little extra this month,” Tony says as he tosses the filthy shirt away. “I want you to use it to buy something nice to wear for next time. Don’t let May talk you into buying something big enough to grow into - I’m going to give you extra for a tailor, too. I want you to see one before I pick you up next month. Got it?”

Peter says nothing, his gaze still stuck to the ceiling. The goddamn silent treatment. Tony snaps his fingers in front of the boy’s face and says, “Pe-ter. I’m talking to you. Did you hear what I just said?”

A shiver wracks the boy’s body. He turns his wet-eyed gaze back to Tony’s face and nods, sullenly.

“Good. And you’re going to be a good boy and do as Daddy says?”

There’s a beat of hesitation. Then another nod, Peter’s lips parting so he can softly mutter, “Yes, Daddy,” before closing his eyes and turning away.