#wings spell that works instantly

[prythianpages]

The Love Potion | Azriel x Witch Reader

Azriel x Green witch | summary: Azriel asks you for an elixir to soothe his aches and you accidentally give him the aphrodisiac you had made for Nesta, bringing to surface one of his hidden desires.

warning: this is purely smut with a breeding kink, oral (m receiving), p in v. some fluff at the end

a/n: this is based off this request. This can also be read as a stand alone fic but it is part of my Dandelion series.

The door creaks open, signaling Azriel’s return from a day that seemed to drag on endlessly. His wings sag under the weight of fatigue and as he steps into your study, the scent of herbs and potions are instantly wrapping him in a soothing embrace.

And there you are, a sanctuary amidst the enchanting chaos. His mate.

You're engrossed in your apothecary work. Your spell book floats in midair in front of you, your keen dark eyes scanning through the ancient text as your fingers deftly work their magic to bring the essence of the herbs to life. The sight reminds him of the day he met you, when the mating bond had snapped.

A soft smile tugs at his lips as he stands in the doorway for a moment. The fatigue that clung to him like his shadows begins to lift as he watches you, admiration and love evident in the way he drinks in the details–from the concentration in your furrowed brow to the way your pretty lips move in incantation.

The weariness he feels is soon replaced by a warmth that radiates from the depths of his heart and quiet footsteps carry him closer. He’s surprised his shadows haven’t given him away. They love you as much as he does and it is often them who greet you first.

His arms wrap around you from behind and he pulls you into his embrace. He nuzzles his nose lovingly into your neck. “Hello, love.”

“You’re home!”

He can hear the smile in your voice and you can feel the exhaustion in his body, his tense muscles finally relaxing and body slightly slouching into yours. “Long day?”

“Yes,” he responds and you’re turning in his embrace to face him properly with a gaze of deep rooted concern. He kisses your worry away. “But coming home to you makes it all worthwhile.”

He takes delight in the way you grace him with a smile, your eyes softening into their natural color as you brush his hair back. “Should I draw you a bath?”

He pulls you tighter against him until you are chest to chest. Your heart, the emerald talisman kept safely in his chest pocket, hums between you. A bath sounds nice but he just wants to bask in your comfort. 

“Will you join me?”

“If you wait for me,” you reply and pull away to catch the slightest frown on his face. “It won’t be long! I have one more elixir to finish!”

Azriel’s eyes drift to the line of elixirs you have sitting on the counter behind you.  They seem to glisten enticingly under his curious gaze. “Do you have anything to soothe aches?” He asks as he reluctantly lets you go to carry on with your work. “Training was rough this morning.”

“Of course. The one with the green liquid should work,” you say as you mindlessly point to the array of potions you spent all afternoon making, failing to catch the way the aphrodisiac you made for Nesta morphs from its deep red to a verdant green. “Drink all of it, if you need to. I can always make more. Just let me seal this last one with a spell and then I can draw your–”

Your voice falters as you turn to face Azriel, your gaze momentarily flickering to the potions before settling back on him. He fails to catch the way your eyes widen in a sudden panic and swallows the sweet liquid in a big gulp. It’s only once all the liquid is gone from the vial that he picks up on your slight distress.

 "What?"

“Umm,” you stammer, your hand rubbing nervously at your neck as you sheepishly look up at him. 

“It wasn’t poison, right?” He jokes but your silence wipes the smile off his face. “y/n.”

“Of course not!”

You drop your gaze, murmuring something else quietly under your breath. Both his shadows and ears strain to discern your words but they fail in their attempt. “y/n,” he calls your name again, growing worried by the second.

You slowly raise your eyes, and as they meet his, a rush of warmth colors your cheeks, betraying the fluster that has settled on your face. You should’ve separated the love potion from the others, especially when you knew how sneaky it can be. It’s known to masquerade itself as any elixir beside it as it yearns to be used and your poor mate took the bait.

“Youaccidentallydrankanaphrodisiac.”

Though your words are mushed, your voice is louder this time and he’s able to make them out. He throws his head back and laughs. A deep and amused sound.

“You’re not mad?” You say and though he’s laughing, your body tenses at the thought of him saying yes. Your hands clasp behind your back in a timid manner, inadvertently puffing out your chest and drawing his attention there. 

“I’m not mad, love.”

His eyes land on the silver jewelry delicately hugging your neck and then to the charm with his initial. When you suck in a short breath of relief, he watches the rise and fall of the curves of your breasts as the sweet sound caresses over his skin in a heated whisper that pricks at his skin. 

“Azriel.”

“I’m fine,” he says, brushing off your concern but his gaze lingers on the movement of your chest for a moment longer before meeting yours again. He follows up with a boyish grin, despite the sudden racing of his heart and the familiar feeling of blood rushing downwards. 

“How about that bath?”

**

There’s a buzzing underneath his skin. All the soreness and ache of his muscles melts away and it’s not from the inviting embrace of the steaming bath. A burgeoning impulse stirs within him. It’s as though the elixir he consumed earlier is coursing through his veins, gathering strength and coalescing in the depths of his stomach before dropping to his hardening cock.

Every gentle lapping of the water against his hot skin, every touch of yours as you help clean him feels so good. It certainly doesn’t help that you’re putting on a show, intentional or not, as you bend down and shift around him, gracing his eyes with tempting views of your ass or breasts.

He submerges his head into the water and while his body is now clean, there’s nothing clean about his thoughts when he rises back up. You’re at the center of every single one of his whirling thoughts, filling his head with lewd images. Of you on your knees as you take him into your mouth, of you under him as he thrusts into you hard and fast, of you on your back as you let him have a taste. Fuck. He wants it all.

As you drag the stool and shift to sit behind him, he reclines in the tub. His hands are gripping the edge of the porcelain roughly, his knuckles whitening under the strain and he can feel the flicker of amusement it draws from you through the bond.

His head goes quiet when he feels your chest brush against his wings, muscles tensing as your cool breath fans over the back of his neck. A teasing brush of your fingers along a sensitive spot on his wing as you clean at them with a damp towel has him biting his lip, suppressing a whimper. It’s almost embarrassing the way you’ve barely even touched him at all and he’s already at the verge of coming undone. He feels like a touch starved horny teen all over again.

“What’s the matter, my love?” You whisper sweetly, lips hovering dangerously close to his ear. Your velvet voice is smooth and it sends a thrill down his spine and straight to his throbbing cock. When you brush your fingers along that spot again, the porcelain cracks under his grip. 

The air is thick and heavy with his scent and the damp towel falls from your grasp. When you press your hands onto his shoulders, he can feel the shift in your demeanor. “Need some help?”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

He can hear the smirk in your voice but the way you’re touching him renders him momentarily speechless and he can’t bring himself to muster a sly remark. Not when he’s completely at your mercy. He’d have to take what he can get for now.

His breath hitches when your hands graze the hardness of his chest, easing their way down to where the warm water of the bath laps at his abdomen in a slow and taunting manner. Your cool touch immediately soothes his heated skin. As you reach further down, his eyes flutter shut and head tilts back into your chest. His throat bobs when you stop right above where he needs you the most.

“Please, touch me,” he breathes, no longer caring how desperate he sounds and it’s like music to your ears.

Azriel is not one to beg…but for you? He’d do anything for you. If you’d ask him for the moon on the string, he’d deliver it to you and in this moment, he’d do so in a heartbeat. Anything to feel you. He’s aching to feel your touch. So bad it’s nearly painful.

Sensing his desperation, his shadows are trailing down your arms to his muscled chest, guiding you to Azriel’s cock so you can grant their master the relief he’s begging so sweetly for. Your teeth nip gently at his neck in approval before wrapping your hand around him and he lets out a sigh of relief.

“Like this?”

“Gods, yes.”

You continue to kiss along his neck, stroking his length just the way he likes it, drawing the sweetest whimpers and moans from him. The water laps against his chest at your movements and his nipples harden at the sensation. He’s never felt so sensitive. 

When your lips pepper kisses along one of his wings, he loses his resolve. His stomach tightens and he lets out a deep groan followed by a string of curses as he comes undone. His eyes flutter shut in pure bliss.

You kiss his temple. “Good boy.”

He doesn’t know if it's your words or the aftermath of his orgasm but that exhilarating buzz returns to his skin and he can feel the sinful liquid coursing through his veins again. More, more, more.

His eyes snap open and he stands abruptly, prompting you to do the same.

Water traces sinuous paths down his body, leaving glistening trails in their wake as he steps out from the bath. His wings unfurl behind him and his frenzied shadows disperse. Azriel’s gaze darkens until there’s only traces of hazel left behind, mirroring the gradual darkening of his shadows that envelop the room, casting an ethereal aura upon him. 

He looks like a god. 

Your knees tremble and you find yourself leaning against the counter behind you for support. His keen eyes pick up on the subtle movement, lips curling into a smirk. “You liked having me at your mercy? Hearing me beg for you, didn’t you?

You don’t answer but you don’t need to.

“My sweet girl,” he purrs as he steps forward and you clench your thighs in anticipation. “I can smell you.”

Long gone is the soft and whimpering male from moments ago. It’s as if a flip was switched from the intensity of his release. In his place, stands something darker and primal. He approaches you like you’re his prey and cages you in, his wet body pressing into yours. You keep your eyes on his, letting out a shaky breath when you feel something hard against your stomach. His smirk widens. 

“You’re all wet,” you protest weakly as you look up at him.

His hand caresses your face, a thumb sweeping in a long stroke along the side of your throat as he leans down and inhales sharply. “So are you.”

He nips at your neck the same way you did to him, his hand undoing the front laces of your dress. “It’s my turn to have my way with you, to have you at my mercy.”

Your dress pools at your feet followed by your underwear and he steps back, eyes tracing every contour of your bare body in deep appreciation. Mine, mine, mine. Dark tendrils curl around you, caressing every place his eyes do and if your scent had not given you away, the shadows would’ve. As they travel lower, they meet your dripping core, humming with eagerness. A cool stroke against your clit as a small moan escaping from your lips and when his eyes lifts back up to meet yours, there’s pure lust simmering in his heated gaze.

A slight pressure against your shoulders has you giving in and dropping to your knees in submission. It’s a silent agreement that you’re his to use and only his and he nearly growls at the sight. Desire consumes him like a raging storm, unleashing a torrent of unbridled passion. He’s filled with the primal urge to claim you and devour you in its wake. He brushes a hand against your face when you look up at him, thumb brushing against your lips.

“Open.” 

You do and your tongue eagerly swirls around the digit before sucking it into your mouth. He lets out a hum of approval, slipping his thumb out from your mouth with a pop. His hand buries itself into your hair, tilting your face the way he wants it while his other hand pumps his throbbing cock. 

He doesn’t have to ask. Your hand is already wrapping nicely around the base of him with the guidance of his shadows. You lean in to flick your tongue across his leaking head.

“Fuck,” he hisses as you take him into your mouth. His head tilts back, lost in the pleasure, barely giving you any time to accommodate his impressive length before pushing his hips forward. “So good for me.”

He begins to thrust, the hand buried into your hair guiding you to move in rhythm with him. He allows his shadows to continue to touch you and they brush along your folds, teasing your entrance. They rub against your clit and it doesn’t take them long to bring a wave of pleasure crashing over you. You’re moaning, sending delicious vibrations straight through him. His pace quickens, thrusting deeper with every snap of his hips.

“That’s it. Take it all.” he groans, digging his nails into your scalp. He holds you flush against his pelvis while you gag on him. Tears prick your eyes at the stretch but you’re desperate to bring him to his release and swallow around him. “Oh fuck.”

He feels the coil in his stomach about to snap and he wants to give in to it, to cum down your throat and make you swallow every drop. But there’s a voice inside his head, a deep and primal urge of need, that has him pulling away abruptly.

“Come here,” he says with a low growl as he beckons you to your feet and as soon as you're standing to your full height, his lips are slotting over yours in a heated kiss. 

He presses his body further into yours and you can feel every inch of him vibrating, his entire body pulsing with need. His skin feels so hot against yours and as his shadows envelop you both, you’re stuck in a dance of fire and ice. The dark tendrils disperse and you realize you’re in your bedroom now. You almost want to laugh. The walk from your bathroom to your bedroom is a short one but your mate is keen on not wasting anymore time.

His scarred hands are rough on your hips as he spins you around and presses your front against the bed. “I need to fuck you.”

You arch your back for him. “Please.”

Deep heat spreads over his skin at your whiny and desperate tone. He slaps your ass, reminding you that he’s in complete control now. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” you’re begging and he loves every second of it, his cock twitching in anticipation. “I need your cock so bad.”

One hand kneads the soft flesh of your ass while the other pumps his cock. He drags his thick length along your folds, coating it in your arousal. “I’m going to fill you up so good. You want that, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes.”

He pushes into you, reveling in the way your walls are wrapping around him. You’re so warm, so tight and he’s already completely lost in the pleasure. He doesn’t give you time he normally does to adjust to his thick length. He thrusts so deep into you, your hands are clenching around your silk sheets. He fucks into you ravenously like a man starved, hands gripping onto your hips so hard you’re sure you’ll bruise.

“Going to cum so deep inside you until you’re full with my seed.”

Your face falls forward from the strength of his thrusts, knees giving out. He sees you struggling to get back on your knees so he pulls you flush against his chest with a hand wrapped around your neck, squeezing slightly. You cry out at the new angle that has you seeing stars. His breath is hot and heavy and he brings his mouth to your ear. 

“Perhaps, I’ll fuck a baby into you so everyone knows you’re mine and only mine.”

“Gods, yes,” you cry out, clenching around him, his words bringing you so close to your release.

A deep growl resonates from his chest. He can feel everything you’re feeling through the bond. You want this as much as he does. The mere image of your body changing, swelling with his child has him quickening his pace. His brain fogs and he gives himself completely to that primal desire that was brought to surface by the aphrodisiac.

Bringing his free hand to your stomach, his fingers tease at the flesh right over where he can feel the bulge of his cock as he pounds deep into you, right where your womb would grow with his seed. All he can hear are the lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin and your pretty moans.

One brush of his thumb across your clit has your thighs shaking and screaming out his name as you reach your peak. He can feel his own release trembling underneath his skin. A couple more thrusts and wave after wave of immense pleasure courses through him. His cock twitches and then he’s spilling thick ropes of cum into you, groaning as your walls spasm and contract around him. He cums so hard, he can feel his release running down your thighs.

He pulls out just long enough to turn you so you’re on your back. A sinful smirk graces his lips at your blissed out expression but he’s nowhere near done with you. He’s still so painfully hard. More, more, more.

Positioning himself between your legs, he sinks into the delicious warmth of your hot dripping core, both moaning when he bottoms out. 

“Please.” Tears stream down your face and you’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for. You’re so sensitive, hands clenching so tightly onto the sheets as he drags his cock over and over that deep spot inside you. “Azriel, I don’t think I can–”

“You’re going to take everything I give you,” he interrupts sharply with a growl, leaving you a whimpering and crying mess beneath him. 

“Az—oh fuck.”

“You’re so perfect for me.”

His arms wrap beneath your shoulders to mold your body to his and he presses hot, feverish kisses down your neck and chest. His lips then slot over yours, stealing your breath away. When you moan into his mouth, he swallows it and eases his tongue into you, urgently exploring every crevice of your mouth.

He’s well aware that the elixir he accidentally took has amplified his every sense. Yet, amidst his heightened state, his love and adoration for you, so deep and genuine, remains the most enchanting potion he has ever known. The candles flicker with the green glow of your magic and he continues his brutal pace, immersing himself in the pleasure of it all with a strong determination for you both to reach another painfully delicious release.

**

Azriel blinks his eyes open and his heart melts at the sight of you, his beautiful mate, curled up in his arms. The tenderness of the morning light casts a warm glow over you, highlighting the delicate curves of your face. He gently reaches out to trace a strand of your hair, relishing the softness beneath his touch. A stark contrast to the way he handled you last night. He knows you're awake when he feels you tug on the golden strings of the bond, flooding him with a profound sense of pure happiness that seeps into every corner of his being.

“I love you so much.”

“Good morning to you too,” you say, your voice still thick with sleep, but a hint of a smile on your face.

You stretch out your sore muscles and Azriel’s eyes flash with concern when the sheets drift lower. He catches a glimpse of the bruises littering your body and you can feel a flicker of guilt down the bond. “Are you–fuck. Was I too rough? I’m so–”

You shift in the bed and silence him with a soft kiss. When you pull away, you smile at him, sending a wave of reassurance down the bond because while yes he was rough, you loved it.

“You were perfect.”

He sits up in bed and when he finds no trace of hurt or regret of how rough he was with you last night in your features, he finally relaxes and returns your smile. 

Your smile falters. “If anything, I’m sorry. It was my mistake that you drank that aphrodisiac. I made it for Nesta and I knew I should’ve stored that sneaky elixir somewhere safer but it wasn't too bad, right?”

Now it’s Azriel’s turn to brush away your concern and he shakes his head at you with a deep chuckle. "It wasn't bad at all. I enjoyed every part of your mistake."

“The best mistake I’ve ever made,” you grin and he laughs with you, his shadows dancing happily around his shoulders.

“What was in that elixir anyway?”

Your eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean? It’s an aphrodisiac, it stimulates sexual desire.”

“I know what an aphrodisiac is,” he replies and he feels the heat rise to his cheeks. Oh gods, he was going to have to say this outloud.  “I’m talking about the way I was filled with the primal urge to–to breed you.”

“Oh,” you say and laugh again at the look bewildered look Azriel was giving you. “That was all you.”

You sit up and you don’t miss the way Azriel’s gaze flickers down to your bare body. Reaching out, you coax his gaze back to yours.

“My magic does not work that way, remember? It can’t create and destroy desires. It can only bring to surface what’s already lurking deep within."

Your eyes are alight with amusement as realization dawns on your mate. He’s flustered but only for a fleeting moment. The corner of his lips curve up and when your hand begins to move from his cheek, he places his own over it to keep it there.

“You wanted it as much as I did.”

“I did.”

There’s a warmth radiating from his heart that is so strong, you can feel it too. His hazel eyes hold onto yours with an intensity that goes beyond words, and when he speaks again, there’s a delicate vulnerability to his voice because in the year since you’ve been mated, this is a topic you’ve yet to discuss.

“You want to have children…with me?”

“Yes.” The response spills from your lips without a moment’s hesitation and his entire being seems to shudder in response. “Do you?”

"Of course I do," he breathes out, sealing his words with a tender kiss to the palm of your hand that has your heart fluttering. “I want everything with you.”

“I want everything with you too.”

Happiness dances in his eyes. Azriel is not a selfish man, always putting others’ wants and needs before his own. He had even accepted that meeting his mate was an unattainable dream. That is, until you came along, dismantling the walls he had spent centuries constructing around himself.

You, a manifestation of his long-buried dreams and wishes, emerged as a living, breathing reality. The selfish desire to have everything with you consumes him, even more so when your desires always seem to mirror his. You're his perfect match and he doesn't know what he did to deserve you. He can only thank the Cauldron, forever indebted to it for entwining your soul with his.

Overwhelmed by his profound emotions, tears brim in his eyes and you're kissing them away before they can escape, smiling when his lips capture yours afterwards. He pours everything into the kiss. It starts soft and sweet but quickly morphs into something more as he brings his hands to your neck.

He pulls away, rolling over to hover over you in your bed, bracing strong arms on either side of you. He kisses your nose and lowers his body until his lips are hovering over right where your heart is racing. Another kiss.

Heat pools down and your breath hitches when he pauses at your stomach to press a kiss there. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” He murmurs and you can feel his grin against your skin as he settles himself between your legs. He hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, slowly running his tongue up your thigh. The gesture draws a soft sound from you that he will never tire of hearing.

“I’m worshiping the mother of my future children.”

a/n: the bath scene was purely inspired by this because hot damn 🥵 If you'd like to read more about Green witch & Az, the link is below! I do have some fics of their children up.

[series masterlist]

[stevieschrodinger]

Just imagine how put out Dustin would be. He's spent months and months working on Steve, trying to get him to come and play. It had been a personal, ongoing campaign. He used every trick and manipulation and wasn't above just outright whining about it. All he asks is Steve try it; just once.

Just imagine how put out he is when Eddie gets out of the hospital, and he asks Steve one time, and Steve says yes. But of course Dustin can't complain OUT LOUD, because he got what he wanted, didn't he? Steve's going to play.

Dustin makes this as absolutely painless as possible; Steve doesn't even see his character sheet until it's done. Dustin has him roll for stats. They talk about race and class. They talk about what skills his character should have...but he doesn't go into detail. he wants to make this fun for Steve, so he lets Steve pick whatever the hell he wants and when Steve calls his gnome Trip Hazard, Dustin doesn't even bitch about it.

Dustin corners Eddie ten minutes before their one shot starts, and explicitly tells him to let Steve get away with absolutely any and all bullshit. The goal here is that Steve comes back.

Of course Dustin has no idea that Eddie has been making heart eyes at Steve for literally years and fully intends to do that, anyway.

It's a one off, so Eddie has some fun with it. He's generous with the XP and everyone has two levels before lunch, excitedly choosing new skills and spells. After a mini boss battle they come across a hoard of treasure; some of it magical.

It's a free for all and everyone walks away with a fun new powerful toy for their character; Eddie's even pre made little cards with illustrations, descriptions, and the magical abilities of each item. He does a whole array, more than they need, but everyone gets one thing each.

Steve, hilariously, chooses a seven foot spear.

Eddie holds it together and does not laugh. He lets Steve do whatever he wants, and when Steve has a moment of madness and acts out his tiny gnome suddenly getting his spear stuck in every single doorway, everyone looses their shit.

The final battle though, that evening, rapidly because serious; an acid spewing black dragon. Everyone rolls initiative. The Dragon, with advantage, goes first, and the battle goes back and forth for several turns before, "the great beast raises itself onto it's back legs, mighty wings spread, so massive they fill the cavern," Eddie climbs up on his chair, spreading his arms demonstrably, "the dragon draws in a mighty breath...Will the Wise, your move."

The party uses their turn to attack, moving their little people on the board appropriately. Steve's turn comes and everyone looks at him..."I'll, ah, move, I think."

"Attack Steve!" Dustin encourages him.

Steve moves his little gnome, with hilariously oversized cardboard accessory, to directly in front of the dragon, the air in the room grows heavy, intent, "no attack...I set to receive a charge."

Every turns to look at Eddie, who frowns down at the map.

"It's on here," Steve volunteers the little card that came with his spear. "This counts, right? Double damage because it's magic, then setting to receive a charge is double damage again..."

Everyone looks back to Eddie again who, solemnly, frowns...then nods.

The dragon unleashes it's attack, everyone in the party taking damage. The dragon falls forward, aiming to land on all of it's feet again.

"Does that...work?" Steve asks hesitantly.

Eddie nods. The damage is so great when Dustin works it out, they have to borrow dice from Will to combine with Dustin's so Steve can roll them all together. The combination enough to fill his cupped hands.

Steve kills the dragon. Everyone is up, screaming and cheering.

Steve is the only one to notice when Eddie rolls damage; Trip Hazard is instantly killed by the crushing force of a dragons corpse.

Steve doesn't care, especially not when Eddie gets real close to whisper in his ear, "that was so fucking clever, I'm furious."

[flawseer]

In your last ask, you mentioned misgivings with Book 10's ending, and especially how it pertains to Winter. I absolutely agree, and I know why, but I wanna hear your thoughts on it, too: What's up with Book 10?

The following is a (very long) examination of my personal feelings with regards to the WoF second story arc finale. While it is based on what is in the text, this analysis will be interpretive and fill in blanks with my own thoughts. Keep that in mind.

Hahhhh... okay. Since mentioning it in my last post I’ve gotten several requests to talk about my feelings regarding the second arc finale. There’s probably no way around it then.

If you haven’t read that last post (it was admittedly very long, and so will this one be), I talked briefly about why I didn’t like that part of the story. I have to warn you now, this will likely be the most negative and dour post in the history of this blog. In a few parts it will sound like I hate Wings of Fire, and I want to say now, while I still have the chance, that I don’t. I love this series, thinking about its setting and characters brings me joy.

I also—very emphatically—want to make it clear that I have no ill will against Tui T. Sutherland. I’ve looked around other people’s stuff a bit and there are a huge number of posts wishing violence upon her or threatening her for doing things to her series that people don’t agree with. That is NOT what I am doing here, shit like that is NOT okay! While I will be critical of her choices, I still respect her effort of bringing this vibrant, wonderful world of dragons to all of us.

Also, obligatory last disclaimer: If you liked the finale, that is okay. You are valid for feeling that way. I’m here to share my point of view, not to demand people agree with everything I say. Just be warned that you most likely won’t enjoy what I have to say. If you don’t think you can handle that kind of criticism, this is your guilt-free opportunity to stop reading.

Otherwise, let's get into it.

CW: Discussion of parental abuse, depression, disease, and extreme acts of violence.

In defense of the finale

Before I start to systematically disassemble this narrative and get lost in a quagmire of negativity, let’s talk a bit about the circumstances that brought forth this part of the story. The plot of this arc was a mess from the moment animus magic was unshackled from the restrictions it had in the first arc, and from then on there was no longer any conceivable way to end this story in a clean way. Sutherland had created an invincible, unbeatable, omnipotent villain; he could read minds, see the future with perfect clarity, and anything he could imagine he could conjure into existence at any time with no cost to himself and no drawbacks. She was likely wracking her brain about how to resolve this impossible conundrum. What we got wasn’t good, but I believe nothing could have been. The foundation was rotting and by the fifth book it couldn’t bear the weight of the plot anymore.

The thing about animus magic in arc 2 is that it is so potent, so all-powerful, and so free of restraint that everyone who uses it also HAS to be a simpleton, or they would be able to break the plot immediately and become god. From the moment Darkstalker broke out of that mountain, he could have said “Any and all spells that are cast with the intention to harm me, interfere with my plans, or do something I don’t consent to will not work, from now on until forever”, and he would have instantly won. The strawberry would have fizzled out. The Darkstalker-blocking earrings would not have been created, and no one could have saved the Icewings. On the flipside, Turtle or Anemone could have said “I enchant the concept of animus magic itself to no longer obey Darkstalker”, and his threat would have been neutered. Point is, powers as potent and easy to use as this really need limitations, or they will quickly eat your plot alive.

I don’t envy the situation Sutherland was in at the time at all. If you’re an author, that kind of thing is a nightmare. It really is no wonder she decided to blow up animus magic for good in her next arc, even if I would have preferred it to get more healthy restrictions instead of killing it outright.

The Darkstalker age regression thing

Everyone has talked this part to death already, but if I am to write a thorough analysis of my feelings regarding this finale, I’m going to have to talk about it as well. I’m sorry if I end up repeating a lot of things you’ve already heard.

This final fate of Darkstalker, to have his memories wiped and be reset to an infant, is really uncomfortable. As far as I am aware, though correct me if I’m wrong, Sutherland said in an interview that she didn’t want Darkstalker to die because, in her view, he did not deserve to. We can debate here about the philosophical question of whether anyone is truly deserving of death, and the merits of “justice” and “punishment”, but in general, Wings of Fire did not seem to have any issues killing off its villains prior if they committed suitably terrible acts. That makes this moment stand out as noteworthy.

Who is Darkstalker then--and if we assume villains can be “deserving” and “not deserving” of death--what about him speaks in his favor, or against? The guy had a pretty crappy childhood, coming from a broken home (there is that inadequate parent theme again). He genuinely loved his sister and felt protective of her, and whenever he liked someone he wanted them to be happy and feel affirmed. The thing that Queen Diamond does to his mother is awful and he is justified in hating her for it. He is also portrayed as rather sympathetic in Moon Rising. When he asks Moon to find his scroll for him and not to leave him, he is not manipulating her, he is sincerely begging for her help. He is stuck somewhere underground, trapped in darkness, in a space so tiny that he can’t move. He remains that way for months, lonely and sad. If you just focus on these aspects, it’s easy to understand why he has so many fans who want him to see healthy and happy.

On the flipside, while he is dedicated to the happiness of his friends, he doesn’t always go for the most ethical way to achieve it. He tries to brainwash said friends without their consent whenever they exhibit behaviors he doesn’t like, or when he thinks he knows better and wants to “fix” them. He has very little regard for other people’s autonomy, lies to his loved ones with alarming frequency, and is unhealthily attached to the idea of power. Those things are certainly not good, but they are his character flaws. These are his demons; everyone has them and they make him a person. If this was all there was to it, he might still be a villain, but I’d argue he’d not be wholly irredeemable.

But there are things about him that take him beyond the pale. Things that go beyond the realm of just being misunderstood, or easily excusable.

He is possessive. He wants Clearsight and Fathom for himself, and for them to listen to him primarily. When Indigo makes it clear she doesn’t like him and cautions Fathom against trusting him, he deceives his friends and traps Indigo in a wood carving, just so he can isolate Fathom from his support network and manipulate him easier. He alters Clearsight’s mind to make her more agreeable and stop her from holding him accountable for his actions; while he thinks he loves her, he only loves an idealized version of her that is wholly devoted to and unquestioning of him. This is why, when he later forcibly overwrites Fierceteeth’s existence to recreate her (which is another horrific thing), he tries to excise the parts he finds undesirable to create a perfect version of his lover. But this caricature he has created in his head is not and can never be Clearsight, which frustrates his attempts.

He is vengeful. Not against people who have actually wronged him, like Queen Diamond. That would be questionable, but understandable. What makes this unacceptable is his frequent targeting of innocent people who just happen to be related to the person who wronged him in some esoteric way. He enchants a secret murder knife that kills random Icewings regardless of who they are or what they think about the Queen, just because the one who took his mother from him happened to share their tribe. He hates Turtle and wishes death upon him in Moon Rising just because he is a green Seawing, like Fathom was. And then there is the big one: He tries to kill all the Icewings who are alive in the present day, where Queen Diamond is long dead and none of them have ever even met her. Even his mother, who suffered from Diamond’s actions the most and has the most reason to hate her, is horrified and calls him out on that one.

And lastly, he is sadistic. He revels in torturing those he hates. He forces his father to disembowel himself, while the latter is fully aware and powerless to resist AND the man’s traumatized daughter is watching. Later he sends a magical plague to kill every single living Icewing sans one.

It should be noted that Darkstalker possesses virtually infinite magical power; whatever he declares, with very few exceptions, will happen. Even if he wanted them dead, he had the power to prevent unnecessary suffering. He could have said “Arctic, fall dead instantaneously”, or “Every Icewing will fall asleep and pass away peacefully,” but he didn’t. He wanted them to feel pain and pass away in the most wretched, agonizing ways he could imagine.

So what he chose to do instead is—and I want you to picture this for a moment—Darkstalker sat down, calmly, and said “Henceforth every living Icewing, excepting Prince Winter and those of hybrid blood, will fall ill with an incurable disease. This disease will cause heavy internal bleeding and make its victims cough up blood and waste away for a few days, followed by certain death.”

This spell does not discriminate with regards to who its victims are. The book glosses over the implications, but imagine the ramifications. Young children are notoriously frail, how many newborns got infected and died because of this? How many families were torn apart because they couldn’t get the magic earrings fast enough? Or accidentally got one earring less than there were family members and had to decide who has to die?

Most of the Icewings were physically cured by the earrings, but an experience like that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Somewhere surely, a dragonet watched as his mother put the earring on him and then slowly wasted away because she didn’t have one for herself.

It’s really easy to overlook how horrific this spell is because it isn’t shown or dwelt on. But the trauma, grief, and suffering it caused must have been immeasurable.

And none of those victims have ever even met the person Darkstalker wanted to get revenge on. None of those deaths meant anything to anyone.

The attempted death toll and scale of the calamity here puts even Scarlet to shame. The ones who come closest to it were Queen Battlewinner and Morrowseer with their attempted Rainwing extermination. All three of those died for what they did. Gives you some food for thought for sure.

Peacemaker’s burden

Despite just airing all of his dirty laundry and declaring him an irredeemable villain, I actually do have a lot of sympathy for Darkstalker still. His story is really sad. He was a child born with an amount of power that nobody should possess, and it corrupted him to the point where it destroyed his life before it began. His parents were always fighting and no matter how good his intentions were, he was unable to understand why he couldn’t hold on to his friends and relationship. He kept making mistakes, then made bigger mistakes to fix those, until his hands were covered in blood and he couldn’t stop anymore. My belief is that, after he wakes up in the present and realizes Clearsight is dead, he loses his reason for living and becomes completely lost in his grief.

Therefore, my opinion is that it would have been appropriate for him to die. If not to punish him, then to finally grant him reprieve from all that rage and pain, and let him rest. I think that would have been a dignified end.

But instead he got turned into a baby. ... And then they decided to magically erase his father’s blood from him? I don’t know what it is, but something about that Icewing erasure makes my skin crawl?

The thing that turns this baby twist from weird into highly unsettling is the context. Darkstalker’s mind is erased, then modified into a new person via animus magic. This is the technique a lot of this arc’s villains used to victimize Hailstorm, Queen Ruby, Peril, Kinkajou, Fierceteeth, and Winter. The same technique is now used again, by the heroes, which is a dangerous thing to have your protagonists do if you want them to remain morally upright.

It is also very reckless, because in almost all of these instances, animus mind alteration has been shown to be very unreliable. The spells seem to wear down over time and are susceptible to partial breaking upon encountering certain strong stimuli. Hailstorm—while trapped as Pyrite—seems to retain trace amounts of his former memories, which is why Pyrite is subconsciously drawn to Winter and clings to him all the time. Ruby is able to ignore half of her conditioning because her familial love for her son partially overpowers the magic. Qibli is just straight up able to reason his way out of it.

The thing to note here is that spells of this nature require a very meticulous approach; you can’t half-ass your reprogramming or the victim will just think their way past it. If you alter someone’s mind, the wording of the spell must be ironclad, lest you risk it wearing down over time and even break.

Luckily we have nothing to fear in that regard, because the spell that created Peacemaker was written by a Rainwing with a total of four days of literacy training. No one better mention the name Clearsight to the new baby Nightwing, or next month is going to be rather interesting.

But that’s just speculation on my part. Let’s assume that, somehow, this spell isn’t as unstable as all the others. Somehow Kinkajou threaded all the needles, and masterfully dodged every conceivable pitfall to pen the perfect incantation, despite having been illiterate just a few weeks prior. This one is built to last and Darkstalker is sealed away really thoroughly, for good.

That is still absolutely terrible and morally dubious, because now you have Peacemaker, who for all intents and purposes is a COMPLETELY innocent little kid, saddled with this huge burden of being the certifiable reincarnation of a genocidal ancient wizard. He’s gonna grow up thinking things like “Mommy gets real quiet whenever the topic of the Icewing tragedy is brought up,” and “Why does Auntie Moon look at me like that? One time she accidentally called me a weird name, who is Darkstalker?” “What is this ‘Clearsight’ name my mind-reading friends from the village found in Mommy’s mind?”

In a village that will be full of mind-readers soon, eventually the secret will come out, and Peacemaker is going to learn what was done to him. A huge, messy load of undeserved baggage was forced onto this completely separate, innocent entity. He will be devastated. Whether he then chooses to forgive them for this remains to be seen. To be honest, he would be well within his right not to, and turn resentful.

Poor kid.

Qibli’s callousness

I love Qibli, he is one of my favorite characters. This happens to be his book, and the fact that I fundamentally dislike half of it makes me rather sad. If anything, I hope this tells you that I’m not just hating on it for my personal amusement. I really wanted to like this. I tried to, and I couldn’t.

Qibli is really weird in this one, to be honest. He is suddenly made to be co-dependent on Moonwatcher, fawning over her every third paragraph, saying how much he loves her, how he is an incomplete and dysfunctional wreck without her, how it physically pains him to be apart from her, oh if only the stars would grant his wish and split the mountains apart so that he may fly to his princess, his muse, his goddess of ebony wit. It gets so old.

And it’s not Qibli. He never acted this clingy towards Moonwatcher. It’s more intense than even Winter gets about Moon, and Winter was actually depicted with a crush on her in book 6. Qibli was always just a supportive element, eager to befriend Moon but never desperate, like he is going to keel over if he is separated from his true love five minutes longer. These very frequent love declarations feel so forced coming out of him. It strikes me like it was just written in service of the love triangle. Maybe if we make him confess his love every four seconds readers will overlook the fact that they had no proper romantic build-up.

You might rightly accuse me of bias. I have previously admitted I am fond of Qibli/Winter as a romantic pairing, on the surface this seems like I am just not happy with my pet ship being blocked by Moonwatcher. But I assure you, I am actually pretty flexible and accommodating even towards pairings that contradict my preferences. I have no issues with Winter/Moonwatcher, for example, because the possibility was properly established and they have good romantic chemistry in Winter Turning. In theory, I would have no problem with Qibli/Moonwatcher either if it was ever set up as an interesting romantic dynamic. But to me, it seems like Qibli is written as a good, supportive friend to Moon for four books, only to pivot hard into “Moon moon moon moon moon moon swoon” at the last second, and it just reads to me as obnoxious.

I got distracted. This section is called “Qibli’s callousness”, and I haven’t even talked about the main part.

Qibli and Winter have excellent chemstry together, whether you read it as romantic or platonic—both of these interpretations have merit and are set up. They’re always the highlight of any scene they’re in. Throughout the story arc you get the impression that these two really get on each other’s nerves, but they bond and grow into really strong friends who bicker a lot but have each other’s backs when it counts.

Then there is a scene where Qibli casually tells Winter that he wouldn’t object if someone wanted to mind-control away some of Winter’s more objectionable traits.

This is genuinely a terrible thing to say to your friend. Like, it crosses a line and ceases to be harmless banter; you’re just telling them that there is something you hate about them so much that you wish they were someone else. Winter actually WAS mind-controlled earlier and felt (and proably still feels) guilty about having attacked Qibli in that state. And now Qibli says “Hey, I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to you again! Hue hue!”

It is awful, BUT I don’t necessarily object to Qibli saying this here. Qibli is in the middle of his character arc at this moment, so he is expected to be flawed. He is making a mistake by thoughtlessly telling Winter this horrid thing, and it seems like a believable continuation of his current character track. This is a reasonable development as long as the plot acknowledges that it’s a mistake.

Spoilers: The plot doesn’t acknowledge that it’s a mistake. Qibli never has a scene after where he reflects upon what he said and apologizes to Winter. When Darkstalker has Qibli trapped in his mountain jail and mind-wipes Qibli’s grandfather into a toddler (hey, wait a minute), Qibli gets visibly disturbed. Like, this is so off-putting to him that he gets queasy and Darkstalker hastily changes the spell. That could have been a great way to bring this back. Like in the epilogue, have Qibli track down Winter and tell him about disturbing baby grandpa theater and how he realized that wiping people’s minds is actually messed up and should have never said that to him.

But he doesn’t. He just lets Winter go, allowing him to believe he is broken and needs magical intervention to be tolerable. It leaves me to think that maybe he’s still okay with it, and fantasizing about rewriting his friend’s mind. Great.

Moonwatcher’s character death

You will find as this goes on that, I get the impression that the second half of this book takes all of the wonderful, endearing characters I have learned to love throughout the story and replaces them with really mean, or stupid, or otherwise inaccurate caricatures.

Moonwatcher’s relationship with Darkstalker gets plenty of setup and development in Moon Rising. You get the sense that these two could be great friends if their circumstances were a little different. It does a great job at making you think maybe Darkstalker is just misunderstood; maybe Moon should free him from his predicament.

Then at the end of Escaping Peril comes the emotional gut punch. Darkstalker actually IS a villain. He callously admits to Moonwatcher that he used his magic to make his own father gruesomely disembowel himself. Moonwatcher is horrified and disgusted that he would do that. There is no circumstance in which something like that would ever be okay. She ends the scene awash in tears because the person she thought was her friend is a murderer and a sadist. This is good, that is a natural reaction to what she was just told.

A few hours from there, in Talons of Power, Turtle finds Moon again and she is completely cool with Darkstalker walking free, despite crying her eyes out after feeling so betrayed earlier. That may seem strange, but this is still good because later, Darkstalker’s mind control plot is discovered. This scene was obviously written to set that up, Moon is mind-controlled into forgetting that Darkstalker could do something that morally reprehensible, and thus forgives him. This is also completely in line with his characterization in Legends: Darkstalker. It’s a kind of stunt he would pull to get Clearsight to shut up about him slipping into villainy.

In my earlier post I alluded to a moment where Moon is set to narrative auto-pilot and says something so rampantly off-kilter that it does irreversible, permanent damage to her character. It happens here, in the second half of book 10. Qibli gives Moon the Darkstalker protection earring, and Moon, somehow, says “I’m not being mind-controlled, Darkstalker really is my friend.”

I get what the plot tries to do here. It’s taking this concept of mind-control and adding a nuance, in an attempt to flesh out Darkstalker and give his character depth. He is ready to control everyone in the world, but for Moon, who is his best friend in this era, he wants her to remain herself. Perhaps this is his attempt at attonement for playing with Clearsight’s mind and driving her away from him. It is very touching in a way, viewed in isolation.

Unfortunately, it does not work with the full context of all the books. Because Moon is in auto-pilot mode right now, her main character trait is “Darkstalker=Friend,” so naturally she would speak in support of him. But this revelation has devastating retroactive consequences. The earlier scene that was written with Moon under mind-control is now altered into her having been in her right mind! She is completely okay with Darkstalker’s admittance to cold-blooded torture and evisceration, within hours of being so shocked by it that it made her cry and ready to denounce him. That is such a quick turnaround it’s giving me whiplash. And what’s more it turns Moon from a principled, upstanding girl into a sociopath who casually accepts gruesome torture and murder if it is committed by someone she likes.

Did Sutherland forget about the scene two books ago, where Darkstalker’s actions were so inconceivably horrid for Moon to learn of that she started crying? It baffles me that this made it into the final version. Her saying she was never mind-controlled makes Moon come off as so awful. This torture-excusing lunatic is not the same kind-hearted and insightful character I followed in all the other books.

Kinkajou’s character derailment

The world is a sad place when I have to question the way Kinjajou is written. Fortunately she is mostly fine, despite her having the biggest excuse to act out-of-character since she’s the victim of a mind-altering spell. Her only real moment of “what!?” comes at the end.

I already talked about her role in casting the spell that regresses Darkstalker into an infant. But I didn’t mention how her being the source of it is questionable in itself.

The clue is in the first paragraph of this section: She herself has experienced the effects of invasive mind-alteration. She was cursed by Anemone in the previous book to be in love with Turtle, and kind of half-struggles kind of not with it, it’s really strange. Turtle is appropriately horrified and acts like really awful things are happening, but then it’s mostly played lightly for some reason. My assumption is that Sutherland introduced this plot point, but then realized how uncomfortable this premise really is and tried to downplay it until the story got to a point where it could get done away with.

But I think the takeaway is still supposed to be that this was a horrid thing to do (which it absolutely is), and that Kinkajou will have to spend a lot of time trying to untangle her real emotions from the fake ones the spell created.

The point is: Kinkajou knows first-hand how awful it is to do something like that to another person. Ideally she should never even conceive of the idea to cast a spell like that, but if we’re really set on this Darkstalker baby thing and it has to happen, she should at least be a bit hesitant about it. And afterwards she should struggle with the guilt of having resorted to it. Not celebrate it and be proud, like it’s funny.

The assassination of Winter’s future

Now we come to the part I’ve alluded to previously; the part where all of these threads converge to utterly destroy one character and drive him to the brink of ruin. Let’s talk about Winter.

Prince Winter is the son of Tundra and Prince Narwhal, hatching in the same clutch as his sister Icicle. He spent his formative years being unfavorably compared to said sister—who easily took to traits that Icewing royalty considers desirable—whereas Winter struggled greatly to embody those same ideals. He was just a little too kind, too merciful, too gentle. As a result he often had to endure abuse from his parents, who made him feel like he was defective.

Because he was young and didn’t have any other frame of reference, he embraced this abusive narrative and began to drive himself with a vigor unreasonable for someone of his age. He scraped and cloyed for every bit of credit he could get, obsessing over advancing up the circle rankings in an attempt to “purge” the wrongness out of himself. To make his parents as proud of him as they were of Icicle.

This never worked. He was always seen as the runt, poised to embarrass the family name. Whatever he did, no matter how hard he strived, there was always something he could have done better.

The only real source of love and affirmation in his life was his older brother, Hailstorm. Where everyone else only saw what Winter wasn’t, Hailstorm embraced his brother despite of his “failings” and was openly affectionate with him. When Winter was with him, it was okay to not think about rankings all the time, and just be himself for a bit. I assume Hailstorm fulfilled a similar role for Icicle as well, which is why both of them love him dearly, and Icicle destroys her own life to bring him back.

Winter also has a fascination with scavengers, possibly because they are small and perceived as useless, like he himself is. He likely feels a kinship with them and observes them being craftier and more adept than everyone else sees them. This is therapeutic for him, to see that a thing can have merit even if no one wants to see it.

One day, he and Hailstorm sneak into Skywing territory so Winter can catch a scavenger as a pet. This excursion turns hostile when they are discovered by a roaming Skywing troop and faced with the prospect of capture, possibly execution. In a gambit to save Winter from this fate, Hailstorm mirrors the words of his parents, calling Winter pathetic and useless, so the Skywings will not think of him as a threat and show mercy. His act succeeds in convincing the Skywings, but it also convinces Winter, who does not understand Hailstorm only said these things to save his life. He returns home—believing his brother hated him all along—to face the wrath of his furious family for losing them “the desirable son”.

For all of his life, these themes have repeated themselves and haunted him. “I was born wrong and defective,” “I am unlovable,” “No one wants me.”

A few months after the war ends, Winter is one of the five Icewings enrolled in the newly founded Jade Mountain Academy. Shortly after departing, he unexpectedly returns home, having successfully rescued his older brother and bringing him back. He is made to believe that this erases his mistakes, his mother even pays him a backhanded compliment, an uncharacteristically “nice” gesture. He is promoted to the top of the rankings, finally his parents are proud of him.

But of course it is all a trick. The “adoration” afforded to him was all a ploy. Secretly, his parents abused power and tradition to arrange for Winter’s death. They force him into a lethal trial they intentionally rigged against him, all to finally erase that stain on their family’s honor.

Winter finally realizes the true nature of his parents’ opinion of him. Even when he succeeds, and does everything right, he is still defective, unlovable, and unwanted. He will never be anything else to his family. And so he leaves his homeland, pretending he is dead, resigned to live in hiding forever.

During this time, while at the brink of despair, Winter is able to draw strength from one source: His new friends from the academy. He vocalizes that, for all the abuse he suffered at the hands of his birth family, he fervently believes that THEY would never do anything like that to him. They chose to stuck with him, even when he was awful, and told him he was not hopeless. He was not a mistake; he could be deserving of love.

So naturally, he returns to them; they accept him readily, are willing to be his new surrogate family. When he almost burns to death at a later point, they fear and weep for him. When Qibli sets out to confront his own abusive family, Winter, despite being mind-controlled into a placid potato at the time, feels concerned enough for his friend’s safety to insist to come along (returning the favor of them accompanying him in his time of need in book 7). When Darkstalker’s mind control forces Winter to attack Qibli, he is shown ashamed and guilty of it once the control wears off again.

They bicker and struggle, and make mistakes, they break up but always come back together again. Time and time again the one thing that is always reinforced: When the cards are down, Winter loves his friends, and they love him. They would never intentionally hurt each other, or give up on each other.

I want you to keep in mind how wholesome, and loving, and mutually supportive this ramshackle band of misfits has been portrayed to this point... Because we’re moving on to the arc 2 finale, and it will do everything it can to corrupt all of it and consign Winter to a life of misery.

We arrive at aforementioned scene, where Moonwatcher receives her earring. Just a little bit prior, Winter had learned that Darkstalker unleashed a magical plague onto his people in an attempt to wipe them out. Now here is Moonwatcher, revealing that she is not under any spell, and has aligned herself with this guy willingly, speaking fondly of him as if he was a dear friend who never did any wrong. Winter takes this badly and accidentally breaks a vase; the narrative lingers on this moment and really tries to sell us on how unreasonable Winter’s reaction is, how he is overreacting, but let’s examine that interpretation for a moment.

Moonwatcher doesn’t yet know about the attempted Icewing genocide, but she DOES know about Darkstalker being okay with casting spells to inflict immeasurable torture upon those he hates. WE know that she knows this, so her stance here is already suspect. Yet she goes on to praise Darkstalker and refer to him as a friend. Look at this from Winter’s perspective. This “friend” of Moonwatcher just tried to kill his entire tribe, and he actually succeeded in killing his aunt, Queen Glacier, a person Winter greatly respects. Winter is currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of being branded a traitor. Even if he could return, he knows his obstinate and spiteful family would prevent him from attending the funeral, meaning he is not even afforded the basic dignity of saying farewell to his aunt. The aunt whom Darkstalker murdered by making her vomit her own blood until she withered away in her bed. And here is Moon, absolving the person who did this to Glacier from his appalling actions, despite knowing full well what Darkstalker is capable of and choosing to look away.

I don’t know about you, but I think I can forgive the grieving, emotionally overwhelmed boy for shattering a little pottery after hearing his trusted friend—who held his hand when he was dying—say that the guy who makes people disembowel themselves and wipes out entire countries may be misunderstood and not so bad. I think I would have a similar reaction. In fact, I would never want to talk to her ever again.

There is no way I can read this scene in which Moon doesn’t come off as either an absolute lunatic, or critically stupid and callous. In fact, based on her earlier behavior I half-expect her to get over the news of the attempted Icewing massacre in a couple hours, saying “Eh, it’s kinda bad, but you just have to do these kinds of things sometimes, you know? I’m sure he had his reasons.”

Then there is the part where Qibli makes his off-color comment about how Winter’s brain could really use a good wash. I already went into how it could have worked but didn’t. But with the timing here, we’ve already had Moon spit on their friendship, so as Winter’s other closest friend, it naturally follows that Qibli also craps on his feelings.

Consider the context: Winter comes from an abusive household where his parents forcibly tried to change him away from who he was to purge the “wrongness” from him. When they betray him and he narrowly escapes their attempt on his life, he re-affirms his belief in his friends, and the knowledge that they wouldn’t treat him like that gives him the strength he needs to keep going. But now, Qibli asserts that Winter DOES need to be altered, thereby AGREEING with Winter’s abusive parents, rendering Winter’s affirmation from book 7 erroneous. Qibli WOULD treat him like that if it made Winter less “intolerable”.

Neither Moonwatcher nor Qibli ever make an attempt to repair this rift. Winter is left betrayed and alone.

Stuff happens, and the forces of the Nightwings and Icewings come to blows over Jade Mountain. With his two closest friends having written him off and his support network eroded, Winter relapses into thinking he is worthless, seeks validation in unquestioning patriotism, and realigns himself with his abusive family by throwing himself into the battle. Nobody wants him to, in fact his parents still hate him for it, but whatever. His father dies and his mother blames him for it.

Meanwhile Turtle, Anemone, and Qibli are cooking up a solution to the battle problem. They have the idea to make everyone’s minds connect in a huge empathy wave for a few moments, which I think is a pretty interesting idea for what it’s worth. But then they teleport both armies back to their homes, and the spell sweeps Winter up with them, taking him out of the rest of the finale and bringing him to the Ice Kingdom. The characters say “whoops” but aren’t further concerned with the situation. It’s all a big laugh.

Let me remind you that Winter is currently considered not welcome on Icewing territory. His family, whom he was sent back with, is extremely abusive and vindictive. His friends know this. Said parents have previously arranged for him to be killed, and are still on record as wanting him dead. His friends KNOW this. And now he is alone with them and a gaggle of other royal Icewings who all are extremely pissed off at him for ruining their sacred trial site.

It is very possible that he is being torn apart and mauled by an enraged mob right now. He could be forced into captivity and flayed. Maybe the interim regent is sentencing him to death and getting the rope ready. There is a million different horrible things that could be happening to Winter right now, while he is trapped alone with people who hate him, things his friends would be reasonably able to anticipate. And nobody is doing anything to get him out of there, to suggest bringing him back, even though it would only take a single spoken sentence to do so! They aren’t even concerned!

Then the climax happens, strawberry thing and all, and we get the coup de grâce. After all is said and done, the group decides that Winter is untrustworthy, and that they must protect the secret of Darkstalker’s fate from him, because they fear if he knew he would kill Peacemaker.

Moon, who read Winter’s mind in book 6 and reached out to him about how the “ruthless Icewing warrior” persona in his head is a facade and how she sees he has a gentle and good heart... Moon, who in book 7 finds out about Winter’s secret deal to kill Glory and STILL trusts him, who calls out his bullshit to his face because she KNOWS how kind-hearted Winter is and that he would never resort to murder... Moon who, again, held his hand while he was dying... thinks that the dragon she has reminded of his compassionate nature time and time again would kill an innocent child.

This is disgusting. Moon believing that is so far off the mark with regards to anything this group has embodied or done for any of the last 4 books, that my only conclusion can be that these are different characters. Maybe the Nightwing library collapsed on top of original Moon, and when Darkstalker magiced her back to health she came back wrong or something. I don’t know.

So after all of this, Winter is left alone. He somehow escaped from the Ice Kingdom; luckily there is a timeskip so we can just gloss over the horrible situation he was put in by his friends. He thinks about Jade Mountain. He reflects on everything that happened, how his parents never really loved him... How they hated him so much they tried to kill him... How he despaired, but found solace in his friends who loved him for who he was.... How those friends then betrayed him too and magiced him away... How they didn’t care about what happened to him... And he decides he is done. He won’t bother going back. A few people, probably Sunny, reach out to tell him he is welcome back, but he says “it wouldn’t be fair to other Icewings if an exile took up a bed”. The decision isn’t hard to make, after all there is nothing left for him there. Everyone has written him off, moved on and left him behind.

Kinkajou visits sometimes, tries to stay in touch, but that’s just how she is. Maybe the others sent her to check on whether he’s going to become troublesome. They don’t trust him. Better to keep an eye on him, he might kill the baby.

With nowhere else to go, Winter moves to Sanctuary, a place for rejects like him. I picture him standing there, at the edge of a cliff staring blankly into the distance. He is completely alone; no one wants to go near him or talk to him beyond the bare necessities. He could probably make new friends with the Talons of Peace if he tried, but there is no point. Why should someone like him have friends? It wouldn’t work. They’d just decide he is too inconvenient to be around. Sooner or later they would just tell him to leave anyway. It's better not to try, so he doesn't get hurt again.

And slowly it dawns on him. His parents had been right all along. It was never them, or the others, it was him. He is the problem. The Icewings said it, Qibli said it, Moonwatcher said it. There is just something fundamentally wrong with him.

He is defective. He is unlovable. Nobody wants him. He will never be anything, or have anyone. And so he stands at the cliff, looking over the broken vase fragments of his life... This is who he is. Prince Winter. A mistake.

And quietly, where no one knows or cares, he does the only thing he has left to do... he begins to weep.

As it is written, the tale of Winter is the story of a boy who is told he is wrong for being alive. He closes his ears and tries to keep walking forward, desperate to prove that he is not an error, that he has merit. But this book comes out and it unmistakably says that he doesn’t. He is nothing, and he deserves to have nothing.

And I just cannot accept that.

Why did this have to happen?

I think that the author was really struggling with the ending of this book. I’ve said before how much of a corner she wrote herself into with such an invincible villain. I think she came up with the strawberry idea as a solution to this problem. But as she was writing it, the characters kept fighting her. It was not a natural solution, not a decision the characters—as they were established—would ever make.

So concessions had to be made to force the issue. Established traits had to be bent slightly to make this plot work. The farther she went, the worse it got. The concessions piled up and turned into contrivances. Eventually the characters were no longer acting like themselves. Their bonds got stretched too far and some snapped. It’s a very tragic pitfall that occurs with long-running series.

I think Sutherland must have also been tired. Writing an entire book is a monumental task, and writing 6 connected ones even moreso. She also comes out with these things really quickly. Maybe she was burnt out? Maybe she wanted to be done and her attention lapsed. Maybe that’s why she forgot that Moon knew about the disemboweling. It seems reasonable to believe when you consider that the next story arc would make a relatively clean break from the problems of this arc, especially with regards to the magic system.

But I don’t know what ultimately happened, so I can only speculate. I reiterate, I bear no ill will against Sutherland for writing this. Even if I kind of hate everything about this finale, and very vocally wish it would be different, I don’t want this examination to generate (or reawaken) any hatred towards her, or to attack her personally. I understand the pain of an artist who gets trapped with something for too long and has to find the means, any means, to see it through to the end. I criticize the story, but I could never hate anyone for that.

But for me, I do not consider this half of the book as part of the story. The characters act too unnaturally for it to have happened. So to me, it didn’t. We don’t know what happened, maybe Darkstalker is still out there. Maybe they dealt with him. Maybe what actually happened is my crappy and self-indulgent rewrite of the ending which I will never show to anyone because it would be really embarrassing.

But whatever actually ended up happening, I am sure Winter never ended up at that cliff, pondering how worthless and meaningless his life was. He is currently at Jade Mountain, surrounded by friends who love him, and bickering with Qibli about the correct solution to their advanced calculus assignment that is due tomorrow.

Is there anything left to say?

Probably.

I didn’t talk about Anemone yet. You know, in the epilogue she enchants herself a bracelet that makes her “not be so mean all the time”. I find that creepy. To me it reads as Anemone voluntarily brainwashing herself with magic to erase her negative traits instead of growing past them naturally because she finds them undesirable and wants to work to change for the better. I would ordinarily assume that this is an overreaction on my part, and I’m just reading the scene wrong. But no, we just got through a part where the heroes brainwashing someone is treated as an unequivocal good and worthy of celebration, so I think my reading may actually be spot on. Why are we letting the little kid alter her own brain without supervision? Hello? Tsunami? Someone intervene maybe? This cannot be healthy.

Turtle stands out to me as the one bright spot in all of this. He (and Peril, but she’s mostly out of focus) remain as the only main characters of this arc who don’t have any mind-boggling out-of-character moments or sudden streaks of uncharacteristic callousness. I really like the part where Qibli goes to free Turtle from his captivity and plans to give him an earful about the comically unhelpful messages he’s been sending him. But when Turtle asks if what he did was helpful, Qibli sees how beaten down and exhausted Turtle is, and wordlessly drops his frustration to tell him “Yeah, they were helpful.” That is the true Qibli shining through for a moment, showing that he cares about the well-being of his friends.

Do I hate the pairing of Qibli/Moonwatcher? No. Well, I DO hate how it happened in the book, and how the story tried to assassinate Winter’s character to resolve the love triangle and make it happen. I don’t hate it on principle though. If you are a fan of Qibli/Moonwatcher and want to write fanfics about it, please do! I absolutely encourage you to do that! Maybe you can fix this mess and turn it into something that’s actually properly handled!

Mightyclaws keeps the power that Darkstalker granted him past the finale. That means all the spells that Darkstalker cast are technically still active. Does that mean the Icewings have to wear earrings for the rest of their lives? Do they get sick again if they take them off? Is Peril forever cursed to think of Darkstalker as a cool old uncle and has to somehow reconcile how everyone else thinks of him? How did the Nightwings relinquishing their powers work, do they have to wear the earrings forever too now?

And there is one more thing to mention.

My confession

You may have already intuited this, if you’ve been following the content of my blog. It is very heavily skewed towards the first and second arcs of the series. I would now like to confess something.

When I read the second half of book 10, I found it so disillusioning, Winter’s fate so upsetting... that I put down the series then and there. And I haven’t picked it back up since.

That’s right, I have not read arc 3. I don’t know if that makes me a fake fan. I know pretty much everything that happens in it, the controversial twist at the end, Pyrrhia coming back into the story later, Snowfall getting brainwashed by a piece of jewelry until she cares about a plot that had nothing to do with her or the fate of the Icewings, etc..

It’s not out of malice, or because it’s a new continent. The opposite in fact; I would have greatly prefered a clean break with a new setting—Bug-themed dragons in a slightly more contemporary, developed environment sounds fascinating and full of potential. I don’t hate Pantala or the new characters.

I just... I can’t really do this again. I can’t handle the thought of Pyrrhia coming back post-Darkstalker, with Winter showing up and talking to these guys again like nothing happened, seeming like a different person, joking around with them like his entire character wasn’t dragged through a mountain of manure to make the plot bend a certain way. I think as long as this is the ending that the story is continuing from, seeing that would just make me miserable.

Maybe I will just stay in the parts of the story that I fell in love with. And imagine a version of reality in which Pantala is allowed to exist on its own, where Swordtail was the fourth POV character of arc 3, where Queen Wasp stayed the villain throughout, and Snowfall got her own legends book about how she reformed Icewing society and fixed all the shit that poisoned Winter’s life, so future generations don’t have to suffer through the same stuff he did.

~~~~~

If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this far. I think this is everything I ever thought about the finale of the second story arc, so now I never have to talk about it again. Writing this was difficult. I found it crushing at times. This will probably stand as the only overtly negative post I have ever made on this blog. I love Wings of Fire, and I want to celebrate it. To add to it, not tear it down.

I hope this wasn’t too boring, or painful, or frustrating, or soul-crushing to read through. I’ll see you later, hopefully with a more constructive post.

[talesofesther]

the one who stayed

Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Summary: For a moment, Sebastian thought he lost you, and now the guilt for what happened is eating away at him.

A/N: Yes, this is very random. I debated a lot on whether to even post this here or not, but, this Tumblr is, before anything else, a library for me to store my own works. I post everything I write here, so I figured this one shouldn't be the exception because I did like how it turned out.

Masterlist

Cold. That was all your brain could register at the moment; how the ground felt so cold underneath you.

"She's not moving."

You could hear a familiar, urgent voice right beside you. But as the seconds slowly trickled by like blood dripping from an open wound, it became increasingly hard for you to understand what exactly that voice was saying. Yet you could still register the fear laced within the tone, you could feel it in the shakiness of his hold.

Trembling hands held onto your arm, one of them slowly brushing against your skin until it found your hand.

You wished you could see his face right now. Sebastian had always been bold, confident. Though you were almost certain there would be a faint blush hidden under his freckles right now because of the intimate gesture.

But your eyes were heavy. Try as you might, you couldn't seem to blink them open. Come to think of it, your whole body felt heavy, maybe that's why you couldn't move. Even breathing was slowly turning into too much effort.

The hand holding onto your own tightened its grip.

People were talking around you. You couldn't make out any words anymore, they sounded like nothing but faint noise. The tune of his voice still kissed your ears, however; even if you couldn't recognize the words, you knew it was him. And he sounded erratic, scared. There was a tightness to it, syllables getting stuck in his throat; it was all wrong, you didn't like to hear him in this state.

A deeper voice was there too — you instantly recognized the timbre that belonged to the man who was always crushing Sebastian's hopes — and in the back of your mind, it brought anger to your chest. But there was nothing you could do anymore. Wisps of remaining magic tingled on the tip of your fingers and held your heart in a tight, hurtful grip. Maybe you'd gone too far.

A pair of rough hands then picked up your body, taking you away from the cold embrace of the catacomb's floor.

And when the blood dripping from your nose reached your lips, coating your tongue with a metallic taste, you realized that maybe you did go too far after all. Part of you could already hear the keepers berating you for rushing your abilities.

Consciousness slipped from your grasp shortly after that. Your head falling limp against someone's shoulder, and feeling a hand still holding onto yours.

—

Hogwarts' hospital wing was pretty quiet most days, only with the usual first year who scraped their elbow falling from a broom or suffering the effects of a spell gone slightly wrong. They never stayed for long though, nurse Blainey was all too used to these types of encounters.

Yet every now and then, one of the beds stays occupied for a longer period of time.

There were several beds — their metal frame and pale sheets doing little to ease the hospital vibe — one beside the other on each side of the spacious room.

You were glad to be put on one which stayed further away from the main doors; it made for more calmness this way. You had no need to engage with the unfortunate first years and could focus on leaning back and feeling the soft wisps of sunlight kissing your skin from the high window behind you.

It bothers you that you can't exactly remember how you got here. The nurse hadn't filled you with much information either; she told you an older man had brought you in, talking about a casting exercise gone wrong and you overworking yourself; she also said you remained unconscious for about 15 hours before finally waking up — pale, weak, confused.

Most of those feelings still crawled under your skin. Your body is still feeling 10 times heavier than it actually was. You wanted to get up and run off to find Sebastian but you had a nagging sensation that, if you did so now, you'd fall face-first on the floor.

The fabric of the thin blanket draped over you felt soft as you worried it between your fingers, nearly tearing it apart. The last thing you remembered was being in the catacombs, with Sebastian, and wanting to do nothing but protect him — both from himself and his uncle.

His uncle.

Could it be that he was the one who actually brought you back to school?

You doubted Sebastian would have the strength to carry you all the way back here — as much as he might fight you on that argument.

Running a hand through your hair, you pulled at the roots. Your frustration escaped with a long sigh.

The old floorboards creaked under a new weight. At first, you assumed it would be nurse Blainey coming back to check on you. But, from the side of your eye, you caught a glimpse of green, and your heart fought against your ribs, trying to escape your chest.

Sebastian stood a few feet away from your bed, though you could hardly recognize him. The brown locks of his hair were all over the place, way messier than usual; his eyes had a red tint to them, mixed with dark circles of someone who hasn't slept in a while; his usual grin was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with a pained frown; his hands held onto his robes with a death grip.

"I heard you were awake."

His voice didn't sound like the one you had grown to love.

"How are you feeling?" The question stumbled past his lips and he avoided your eyes shortly after. He sounded as if you would yell at him to leave at any moment. It only got you more confused.

"Better, a little weak still," you bit at the inside of your cheek. This moment shouldn't feel as fragile as it does. "Care to tell me what happened?"

You didn't think your tone was harsh, but Sebastian flinched at your voice anyway. Bad memories washed over him like a bucket of icy water.

He met your gaze before hesitantly closing the distance between you, choosing to sit at the edge of your bed.

He looked worse up close. Eyes distant, trapped elsewhere.

"We were fighting against my uncle and the-" Sebastian gulped, guilt squeezing at his throat like barbed wire, "the inferi."

You acknowledged his words with a soft nod, slowly remembering things as he spoke. You pushed yourself up to sit straighter, just a couple of inches closer to Sebastian. He looked like he needed it.

The words lingered on his tongue. You never thought you'd see him this way; hesitant, lost, regretful. With tears on the verge of spilling over his freckled cheeks.

"You were trying to reason with my uncle; and me, for that matter," Sebastian chuckled halfheartedly, "trying to stop us from killing each other, when the inferi started to close on us. You didn't think twice, and all I saw were lighting strikes coming through the ceiling of the catacomb, destroying everything but us, and… you laying on the floor afterwards."

Memories were clearer now. Sebastian had attacked his uncle after he destroyed the relic and they started exchanging spells at each other while the inferi slipped from Sebastian's control. Everything could go very bad, very quickly. You remembered trying to speak with them, make them see past the anger clouding their judgment. But it was to no avail. What you remember the most, however, was seeing Sebastian so focused on his uncle, and unaware of the mass of inferi coming towards him.

You really hadn't thought twice at all. Ancient magic flowed through your veins like wildfire; it was all you could feel. The rumbling of thunder became your heartbeat. You killed each and every one of the creatures, burning out all of your energy in the process.

"And what of Solomon?" You found yourself wondering.

Sebastian pursed his lips. His eyebrows scrunched slightly as his body tensed for a moment and then relaxed again. "We stopped fighting as soon as I ran up to you. I- I begged that he'd help me bring you back to school. I'm not sure where he is now." His body shook with each intake of air. "Or Anne."

"Well, guess my plan worked after all. At least I got you to stop fighting," you tried to lighten the heavy air around you and Sebastian, mustering a teasing grin as you tilted your head to try and catch a glimpse of his eyes.

Sebastian worried his lower lip between his teeth to keep it from quivering. There was no witty remark, no ironic comment. Nothing. His tears were one blink away from spilling over.

Maybe if you listened closely, you'd be able to hear your heart shattering. For him. For this broken boy barely holding the last pieces of himself together in front of you, for this boy who stood so desperately alone in the world.

You reached out, your hand closing tightly around Sebastian's — because you couldn't bare seeing him alone one second more. Your thumb brushed against his skin. You could feel his trembling. "We'll find him, and Anne. I promise we'll figure things out, Sebastian."

He was shaking his head before you even finished speaking, squeezing his eyes shut and causing a single tear to roll down his cheek. "No, you don't understand," his broken words fell from his lips at the same time he pulled away from your touch.

"I never-" Sebastian stood up then, choking on his own breathing as he looked at you with a mix of longing and anguish. "It was never my intention to hurt you… I'm sorry," he whispered, so quietly that if the hospital wing wasn't as empty as it is, you would've missed it.

"Sebastian, you didn't-" you cut yourself off when he abruptly turned away from you and started marching towards the main doors of the spacious room, putting as much distance between you and him as he could.

The fatigue still gripping at your muscles was the last thing on your mind when you threw away the covers and stood — albeit on shaky legs — to go after him. "Sebastian, please wait," you called, grimacing as he took your heart with him.

Ultimately, you didn't go very far. Nurse Blainey stopped you in your tracks before you could even reach the middle of the room.

—

The sun rays shining through the tall stained glass windows were warm against your skin, doing little to help with your current sleepy state as you tried to at least pretend to be paying attention to class.

"It's been nearly a week, Ominis." You groaned, folding your arms on top of the table so you could lay your head down, "do you think he's mad at me for trying to stop him?"

The boy sitting beside you chuckled quietly, twirling his wand in his hands. "Darling, I don't think Sebastian could be mad at you even if he wanted to."

Before you could ask what he meant by that, Professor Binns walked by a little too close for comfort; his ghostly form sending a shiver down your body.

"He's been spending most of his evenings hiding away in the Undercroft," Ominis felt around on the table until his fingers brushed the fabric of your robes, he gently closed his hand around your wrist and squeezed comfortingly. "I believe it would do both of you some good if you went to see him."

—

It was mostly dark out already. The sky slowly filled with stars as night settled in and a soft cold breeze hung around the DADA hallways. The pristine floors reflected the image of your shoes, pacing back and forth restlessly.

You were having second thoughts. Apprehension tugged at your heartstrings because as much as you didn't want to admit it, the sight of Sebastian walking away from you so desperately that day had stung.

Though no matter how much you stalled, you knew you'd relent. The sleepless nights you've been going through lately are enough of a telltale of the effect Sebastian has on you.

A deep breath filled your lungs and you closed your eyes, pleading for your heartbeat to settle as you pushed open the door to the Undercroft.

The familiar warmth hugged you instantly. All of the candlelights dimly shining against the stone walls forced away the frown that clung to your brows. You'd never blamed Ominis for being so protective of this place, it really was the perfect hideaway.

You found Sebastian pretty quickly. He sat on the floor against the far wall to your right, knees tucked close to his chest as his wand moved delicately, making a paper bird flap its wings and fly around in front of him. The bird fell limply to the floor when Sebastian's eyes landed on you, however. You thought you saw him gulp and straighten his back too, but other than that, the Slytherin boy expressed no other reaction upon seeing you. It felt almost as if he was expecting your arrival.

Your feet were momentarily frozen to the stone floor, Sebastian's gaze burning through your soul. You also couldn't help but notice how lonely he looked, just sitting there by himself; it made your stomach turn unpleasantly. You wondered if he considered himself deserving of it.

It was as if you spoke with your eyes for a beat. You saying that if he wanted you to leave, you would. And Sebastian pleading for you to stay.

All that could be heard were your steps echoing through the Undercroft as you carefully came to sit beside him. Your shoulder just shy of touching his.

The silence wasn't a comfortable one, but it also wasn't awkward. It was just heavy. There was a tension in the air that none of you knew how to address.

Sebastian's knuckles were white around his wand, he sat stiff beside you, not once glancing your way.

You figured that if you didn't speak, you'd be sitting in silence for hours. You glanced down at the paper bird that lay discarded on the floor, your lips quirking up just slightly as you picked it up; "you know, my mother taught me how to make these when I was younger. Without magic, that is." You chuckled. You rarely spoke about your parents, it was a sensitive topic. But it was your way of trying to make Sebastian feel more comfortable to share what he was feeling with you; what was bothering him.

"I used to get rather frustrated when I couldn't get it right the first times," you gently inspected the small bird with your fingers, thumbs running along the smooth white paper, "but she'd always tell me to take a breath, count to five, and start again."

With your eyes fixed on the paper bird in your hands, you didn't notice Sebastian's eyes fixed on your profile. The grip on his wand loosened slightly as he committed every detail of you to memory.

A shiver ran down your back when you finally turned your head to face him again. He was close, your breaths mingling as the lines of your relationship blurred and burned with the candles.

"Sebastian…" You breathed, watching the way his eyes darted to your lips and back to your eyes, "about what happened at the catacombs, I'm-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry." He cut you off suddenly, voice quiet and a little choked, but firm.

"I am, though," you leaned your head back against the stone wall, involuntarily leaning closer to him as your body gravitated to his warmth. "I'm sorry things didn't go as planned, but I promise we're not gonna stop looking for anything else that might help Anne."

Sebastian averted his gaze from you, furrowing his brows. You saw tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of his eyes, despite his efforts to hide them. "Stop it," he mumbled.

You shifted in your seat, your jaw set tightly in place. The beats of your heart against your chest were painful. The thought of Sebastian distancing himself from you was painful. So much so that you fear you'd be willing to do anything to fix it, within reason or not.

"I mean it, Sebastian, I will do anything-"

"Stop it! You don't get it, do you?" He snapped, his eyes burning into yours again and shining under the candlelights. "I saw you laying on the floor of that damned catacomb and I thought you were dead!" The syllables broke and stuttered past his lips, the pain and fear he felt that day came back in waves and twisted his expression.

You were stunned to silence, watching as Sebastian opened his mouth, lower lip trembling as he searched for his voice again.

"Do you have any idea of what that felt like?" He whispered, words strangled and squeezing his chest until he had trouble breathing. You were nothing but a blur in front of him. Sebastian pursed his lips to try and keep himself from breaking. Speaking it out loud somehow felt like making it real. "I thought I'd just lost you, and… and it would be my fault."

The feeling of your gentle thumb carefully brushing against his cheek brought Sebastian back to reality, and he realized his tears were already dripping down his chin.

"I would never blame you for what happened," you shook your head, smiling sadly as you felt your own eyes sting, "you were just trying to help your sister, when everyone else had given up."

"I will cure Anne… but not at the expense of you," in some ways, he looked surprised at his own words; at the truthfulness of them. He gulped back a sob, "I thought I could control it," Sebastian breathed in sharply, avoiding your gaze but leaning into your touch, "I went too far, as Ominis has probably told you a thousand times already."

You chuckled softly, sneaking your fingers over his jaw and until they disappeared between the brown locks of his hair. Sebastian closed his eyes briefly at your comforting touch, allowing himself to melt against you. "He's more understanding than you give him credit for," you smiled.

That got half a smile out of Sebastian, his freckles highlighted by the candles around you. His hand inched closer to your free one resting on your lap, the tip of his fingers timidly closing around yours, craving more of you. His pupils were blown wide when he finally looked up at you again.

"I promise to never do anything this reckless again." His low tone left no room for doubt.

You leaned in slightly, feeling his fringe tickle your forehead. You thought you heard him trying to suppress a gasp, but maybe it was your foggy mind playing tricks on you.

There was a glint in his eyes you'd never seen before, still shining with remains of his emotions; but vulnerable, calm, loving.

"I am quite fond of your reckless side, though."

Your unexpected words brought an endearing blush across Sebastian's freckles. You felt the shape of his teasing grin when his lips touched yours.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Sebastian’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us

[meownotgood]

don't go, not yet. / gale dekarios x gn!reader, fluff, light angst, hurt / comfort, you bring gale back to life with the scroll of true resurrection, and gale gets a glimpse of your true feelings for him. word count: 3.8k

════════════════════

T'i n'uthrantha m'ahthra Gale. 

The letter held between your thumb and forefinger burns with sudden light, growing hot underneath your fingertips. Fire sears a scrawl of new script onto the parchment's surface. In a puff of ash and molten rock, wings closed around itself, the magma mephit disappears. Its wake scorches the grass, stray dustings constricting your throat. You wave a palm in front of your face, forcing yourself to hold in your coughs, your throat constricted and eyes threatening to water. 

Newly formed, the Scroll of True Resurrection curls in your palm. It gives off a faint, promising glow. A gleam that almost seems to exude its own sense of vibrant heat. Your jaw clenches, your hands shake. Your fingers press into the wrinkled parchment, and your heartbeat struggles to keep steady. The thick, mushroom-laden air of the Underdark has never felt more stifling. 

You take a slow breath — although it does little to calm you, in the grand scheme of things — before you quietly utter the necessary incantation. Instantly, the scroll blazes brightly, then crumbles into stardust. In its place, your palms radiate with the same sort of incandescent power. Beams of pure energy drift skyward, strands of blue encircling you. Magic flows through your veins; it fills your lungs with a soft, familiar scent, a lingering reverie brushing over your arms, like the crisp air of a rustling breeze. 

Shudders traverse over your body. You're hardly comforted, but the forming of the spell between your palms, pressed together and then guided up, does finally provide you with the smallest amount of relief. 

Your entire system buzzes as you feel the spell's power. Your head grows heavy, magic swiftly leaving your body to flow through another — and over the ringing in your ears, you still manage to hear the moment Gale takes an initial, irrevocable breath. 

With a huff, he begins to rise to unsteady feet. Lingering, floaty spell threads seem to make every movement easier. When they dissipate, leaving him to support his own full weight, he wobbles for a moment, a palm pressed to his chest. At last, you let go of the breath you were holding. 

Gale blinks, vision returning from darkness, then blurriness. Vitality crashes through him, blissfully effortless; a waterfall of stamina he'd since taken for granted. He stares down at his feet first, at the flattened grass around where he once collapsed, and he tries to keep from growing dizzy. He looks at his hands. The front, then the back. Dirt and blood are caked into his skin — his blood, clearly. Dried, dark red traces cling to the crevices in his palms, they smudge over the ends of his knuckles. Such a grim implication, he muses. 

Still catching his breath, those thoughts are forced to the back of his mind. Instead, he's letting a smile break over his features. As if the very action is remarkable, he closes and opens his hands again, he watches the way they move with amazement. He's alive. Gods, he's actually alive. The precautions he put in place worked. He won't condemn himself, or reduce the lonely depths of the Underdark to smithereens; nor will his demise wind up hurting his unlikely band of companions. And you, you're just fine. He kept you safe, he truly did. You brought him back, he'll see you again — 

With a spark in his gaze you find almost gleeful, almost adoring, Gale finally looks towards you. 

"My word, you did it!" He's gasping, laughing slightly, disbelief reflected on his face as well as in his voice. He briefly wobbles, further getting used to his weight on his heels. Without looking away from you, he absently continues to flex his fingers, feeling the blood rushing back to them, and he forces himself to take a much slower exhale. "Oh, it's good to be alive!" 

You're glancing him up and down once, twice, with an expression on your face he can't make sense of — and he doesn't yet try. If you're angry with him, he's sure he deserves it. All he knows is he's glad to see you. Unbelievably glad. 

His chest heaves. Breathing feels startingly simple, especially when the last thing he remembers is how viciously he struggled for breath. The sudden thrum of the orb comes back to greet him, constricting him as it always does, whispering a bitter promise into his ears that it is still here. He could've lost you. It's a realization that pains him far worse than the returning demand to devour within him. As warmth returns to his numb limbs, and as he's silently cursing himself for ever being so foolish, he realizes he almost did. He almost let himself disappear. 

"My hands are still cold so that handshake will have to wait," Gale swallows, brushing his palms onto his pants to hopefully be rid of the dirt. His tone remains upbeat. For a moment though, his smile seems to waver, in a way only you could manage to pick up. Only you, given how terribly close you and him have quickly become. You're more important to him than you might realize. 

"But in the meantime," He murmurs, standing up straight. "Tha-" 

Words left unfinished, Gale is interrupted when you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a tight, fierce hug. 

You bury your face in his chest, barely noticing the blood smeared onto your cheek from his filthy clothes. You squeeze him tightly. Your hands grab fistfuls of the back of his robe, nails practically digging into him. Your body presses so close to his, it's as though you were both meant to encompass the same shape. 

Gale exhales, deeply, steadily, and he relaxes into your touch. Your arms around him feel right. His heart thumps, skipping to a slightly eager, very real rhythm. Silently, you focus on the soothing sound while it echoes through you. It is calming, grounding. His heartbeat becomes a comfort you wish to memorize. 

At first, Gale hesitates, melting into your touch and glancing down at you, his hands hovering in the air awkwardly, mere inches away. In the end, slowly but surely, he returns your embrace. 

He hugs you with careful arms, and you slump, shoulders untensing. You breathe a sigh, pressing further into him, attempting to hide a muffled sniffle. His clothes linger with the sharp scent of blood, and the heavy undertone of ruin. When his palm settles onto the back of your head — so delicate, like you could be made of porcelain — you swear you can feel him shake. He grips just barely, keeping you close to him. Guilt roots into his chest and his heart as a gnawing ache. Tired eyes fluttering shut, weak arms embracing you with a tenderness more intense than you've ever known, he holds you close enough to interweave you. 

Your heart pounds along to the same eager rhythm as his. Gods, there's too many things you need to say to him; but your lips tremble, and you aren't sure where to start. You want to curse at him, vent your frustrations through the anger and sorrow you've since bottled up. You want to cry, but at the same time, you want to scold him for leaving you scared. For standing in front to take one too many blows meant for you. 

You need to tell him what you just can't put into words — Hopelessness, you felt utterly hopeless when you first watched Gale crumple and collapse. Your breath grew caught in your lungs. Swirling emotions you've never felt before clawed at your chest, resounding louder the longer you fixated on him: motionless, his blood pooling onto the cold ground. Try as you might, your mind was so muddled, you could barely make sense of anything in your view. 

Back then, with messily-cast spells and clumsy swings of your weapon, you finished the fight mostly unscathed. You scrambled over to him, your boots stained from the blood-soaked grass. As Gale's projection appeared in front of you, framed with a shimmering aura of purple light, you tried not to stiffen at the sound of his voice. You focused on his instructions as best you could, despite the tremble in your hands as you searched for the pouch he kept on him, or the clumsiness to your fingers as you pressed them to the holes in the flute. 

Some part of you wonders if there was an aspect of humanity to his projection. If it wasn't just a lifeless messenger, but rather, an extension of himself. 

Because you swear, when it — when he — spoke to you, his tone was filled with a familiar softness. The same softness Gale would embody when he asked you, Are you alright? after a fearsome confrontation. A confrontation you both got out of, unlike this one. You felt the same fondness radiating from him as the kind he'd have for you in life, when you talked over a nighttime campfire, his eyes seeming to linger on you for much longer than they needed to. 

Gale's shimmering projection gave you an earnest smile, and spoke a little softer, a little more careful. Practice will surely make perfect, He hummed, his warm voice reverberating through your head and your eardrums. Do not fret. It is my utmost belief that you will most undoubtedly emerge successful. I will see you once more soon. 

Or maybe, you'd already grown to miss his gentle smile, his tender words. You didn't want to imagine a world where you had truly, irreversibly lost him. Perhaps the familiar softness you thought you felt, his projection's lingering humanity — Ultimately, it was merely your imagination. 

You've grown to care for him more than you should. You have known this, regardless of your attempts to deny it. Either of you could die at any time, yet becoming close was effortless, almost as if it was meant to happen. Dire circumstances or not, you were meant to collide; it was only a matter of time. 

In the midst of turmoil and shadows of death, Gale has been your soft place to land. You aren't sure what to do with everything you feel. You don't know what you'd do if you lost him. 

As Gale lets go of a held breath, his arms pulling you in, your mind becomes calm like still water, yet your heart continues to race. This time, his voice is as warm as the sun; unmistakably devoted. He is your sun, an imprint of warmth in a sea of moonlit darkness. 

"Ha, I wasn't- uhm," He starts, stammering, speaking in a quiet tone. You lean further into his shoulder, and Gale rubs the back of your head, brushing his palm up and down with slow, barely-there movements. "I wasn't expecting… such a warm welcome, but Gods, is it good to see you. Even better than good, in fact. For a brief moment, I thought-" 

Trailing off with a slow, steady exhale, he doesn't allow those words to come into fruition. Instead, he pulls you a little bit closer, and hugs you a little bit tighter. 

"Well, I won't dwell on the outcomes yet to befall us. My mistakes have been righted. By someone very important to me, in fact. No sense in letting such regrets continue to drag us down. We have a rather important mission yet to be accomplished." He hums, his voice returning to its usual air of optimism. "Besides, I believe I still have you to thank for doing the honors to drag me back, isn't that right?" 

When you pull away, he's smiling, the glow of the nearby Sussur Tree illuminating his face in hues of soft blue. His hair is a mess, stray strands tickling his forehead. Bruises cling to his skin, still slightly pale, and dark circles are set underneath his tired eyes. But he's here. Finally, your head tipped in his direction to glance at him, Gale gets to have a good look at you. 

Your shoulders are tense, shuddery. He feels the subtle shake of your body in his arms. Your face is a blessing to see once more, but your cheeks are tear-stained, your brows are furrowed with some mix of frustration and dejection. And as he moves an instinctual hand to cup your face in his palm, you not-so subtly lean into his touch. Your eyes flutter closed, leaving the faintest sorrowful droplet to fall from your lashes. 

Oh. Gale's heart pangs in his chest, heavy and forceful. The unforgiving Underdark might have already gone and punished him for his oversights, but clearly, he misstepped far more than he might've imagined. 

"Oh, oh no- I didn't-" Gale nervously brushes the tears from your eyes with his thumb, his entire world instantly sent off-kilter. His words ache when they leave his throat, his vision threatens to grow misty. "Don't cry. I've got you, it's alright- I promise you, everything is and will be alright. I'm here. But I… must have brought you an awful heap of worry. If I had paid more attention, if I hadn't squandered so many chances to attain the upper hand-" 

As your eyes finally meet his own again, they enthrall him, capturing all of his attention. He half-expects you to crumble. And he would let you, he would keep you in his arms for as long as you'd allow him, holding you tight, with all the conviction of someone who would do anything to keep from vanishing. Nonetheless, you don't. Not any more than you already have. 

You push him away and stand up straight, although there's little force behind the press and shove of your palm to his chest. Glancing down, your weary gaze is now kept on your shoes. You count the specks of blood dotting each boot. Hastily, you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, and Gale flinches, your warmth leaving him once you've separated. 

"It's fine." You shake your head, and you swallow, willing your dry throat and tired voice to function. "I'm glad to see you're well. We can head back to camp whenever you're ready." 

Gale frowns. "No, it is not- and you, you are most definitely not fine. Come here." 

When his hand grips your wrist firmly to stop you from walking away, when his arms wrap around you once more, and you're confidently pulled into another embrace, you don't protest. You allow him to hold you, until your arms are weakly returning the hug. Until every blooming skip of your heart battles the fading ache of worry. Until Gale is exhaling, his breath warm on the shell of your ear, the feeling of his arms around you more than comforting. One arm is kept around your waist, while his other palm presses flat to your back. He holds you with an intensity you doubt you'll be able to forget. 

Damn him. You'll be craving this. Craving to feel his touch just one more time. 

"I'm sorry. I am so very sorry," Gale murmurs; stupid wizard, with his stupidly soft touch and his terribly soft words. His voice has shivers tracing up your spine, your every nerve glowing from the inside out. Of course you shouldn't be this attached to him. If only he didn't make it so damn easy. "You are important to me. Much more than you may know. I assure you, I will do all I can to make things right." 

Your eyes close, your shoulders slump, and you let yourself melt against him. The heavy scent of ash lingering on his clothes envelops you each time you breathe in deeply. There's no need to admit how you feel. Somehow, you sense he just knows, because the pure tenderness found in his every touch screams: You'll never have to let me go. 

Time becomes a slow, gradual thing. You aren't quite sure how many minutes have passed since he first held you, until Gale speaks, finally bringing you back to the present once more. 

"I'm sure you have questions." His voice is quiet, smooth, and effortlessly calming. He brushes his palm over your back, reassuring you. "I know I would, if I ever found myself in your position. After what you've done for me, I suppose it's only fair that I answer anything and everything I am capable of. No more secrets. You, out of everyone, deserve to know."  

"Later," You grumble, pressing closer. He breathes a faint laugh, then a slight sigh, and listens intently to your muffled words. "Tell me what you need to later. Or keep it to yourself, if you must. I wasn't worried about whether or not you'd give me answers, Gale. Just about you." 

"Were you concerned I wouldn't return?" 

"I…" You can't help but hesitate. "I don't know." 

At last, you pull away from him, just enough to meet his eyes. His hands grasp your forearms to keep you close. The way he looks at you is gentle enough to nearly pull all of the air from your lungs. 

"I wasn't sure, with your condition and all," You're explaining, looking away. He doesn't fail to notice the flash of fear in your eyes. He's never seen you so shaken. "I know you haven't told me much, but I really didn't know what would happen to you. My mind went to the worst possible outcome, and… It was frightening, for a moment. I didn't want to lose you." 

Gale takes a slow breath, gripping your arms tightly, until you're finally led to look at him again. "Sweetheart," He coos; the term of endearment tumbles from his lips before he can stop it, tender on his tongue, even more pleasant in your ears. "I do not wish to lose you either." 

You pause, your eyes wide, your breath quick. You almost speak again — perhaps about to accidentally admit more than you should, your heart busy strumming the notes of his name — but before you can, Gale is continuing first. 

"I won't leave you." He moves a hand to hold your cheek, subtly tilting you towards him. "I'll fight alongside you for as long as I remain standing. We won't perish, nor let ourselves become mindflayers. We will see this journey through- and, we will do so together, no matter what perils come after us. There's no need to worry about me. I do not plan on letting you down." 

"Gale-" You breathe in sharply, then slowly. You're offering him a genuine smile, one that makes a feeling he can't pinpoint flutter over him — something holy, surely. You were sculpted for worship. "Thank you." 

"You're the one I should be thanking, if we're being honest." His voice becomes a bit softer, as he murmurs, "And I do thank you. If we had the time, I'd thank you a thousand times over. It is good to be back. Truly. Perhaps I haven't shown the extent of my gratitude enough. You were there for me, in a way few ever have. I won't forget that." 

He begins to ramble, seeming lost in thought for only a second before he speaks once more: "The Fugue Plane is… depressing, to put it bluntly. It is a stretch of endless gray darkness as far as the eye can see, every shadow drawing in to swallow you whole. There is no warmth, no light. Compared to that fate, finally seeing your face again after you helped my eyes to reopen-" He breathes a quiet, tender-sounding chuckle. "What a beautiful sight indeed." 

You're silent, before the extent of his words finally dawns on you, leaving you to stare at him with a grin and an eyebrow raised. "Beautiful?" 

Gale holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "There's that smile. Beautiful is hardly grand enough a word, but yes. I want to see no shortage of smiles from here on out, understand? As many as such an adventure allows us, in any case." Briefly, he trails off, hesitating temporarily, his expression growing in resolve. "I'm sorry for upsetting you. I'll be better. Do better. I couldn't forgive myself if- if somehow-" 

This time, you're the one interrupting him. "Gale?" 

"Yes?" 

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you." 

It's strange. Right now, your futures are hardly assured. He can promise not to leave you with his entire chest, he can fight to live even as he's slowly dying, and it wouldn't matter, if the universe willed your efforts to save yourselves for naught. Yet, when you speak, when you're the one looking into his eyes, no matter how outlandish it might seem, no matter what is left of the fading hope he's been clinging to — In the end, he can't help but believe you. 

Your gaze is brimming with such conviction. He's doomed. He's so, terribly ruined, and it isn't because of the threat of the tadpole, or because of whatever pain is brought on by the rot inside of him. Gale is completely done in, because when he looks at you, he feels longing settle in his chest, a present devotion that overshadows every prayer he's ever called upon, and he knows the only thing he has to fear is eventually falling in love with you. 

If loving you is to be his fate, he thinks even in death, he might finally feel alive. 

He swallows thickly, his gaze never leaving yours once you've finally pulled apart. He watches you stand up straight and clear your throat, although your expression still softens with a telltale hint of nervousness. You're precious. 

"Stay behind me next time," You scold, "There's no way I'm going through those stupidly elaborate instructions again." 

"Oh, come on," Gale huffs. He's composed, but his face is flushed. He can feel the warmth pooling in his cheeks and the ends of his ears. The blood is just rushing back to his head, that's all. "You performed them excellently! I'd say you're already a natural at problem-solving and flute-playing. But I promise, next time, I won't fall so easily. You have no reason to fret. There will be no elaborate instructions, no flutes, and no more magma mephits in your future." 

"You better not," You're laughing, and his grin only grows wider when you push at his shoulder playfully. "Die on me again, and I might have to bring you back just to kill you myself." 

"Ha. I better not draw your ire, then." 

Gale watches you turn on your heels, while he's still awkwardly stuck in place like some invisible, adoring force is holding him there. His palm presses to his chest; bizarrely, the orb is silent, but his heart is pounding way too fast. You're turning back before you've gotten far, glancing at him to make sure he's following. 

"You coming? Everyone's waiting for us back at camp." 

Gale nods. He exhales slowly to clear his head, he catches up with you, and he ushers you forwards with an arm around your lower back. "Of course. Let us continue on. Lead the way." 

[yurinaa-world]

Hey, I just saw the recent angel reader work, can you do a demon one, but with Dr. Ratio, Sampo, Sunday and Gallagher... Thanks. Either platonic or romantic is fine

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Dr. Ratio, Sampo, Sunday & Gallagher x Gender-neutral Reader

𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader that's a demon

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: fluff, spelling mistakes

𝒱𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓈 𝑅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜

“Veritas enough with the math stuff and pay attention to me!”

Your arms wrap around Veritas' shoulders, chin his shoulder, trying your best to persuade him into listening to you and enough with working on these papers. Yet he just doesn’t answer you at all.

Ugh. Pressing your chest against his back, leaning in to have cheeks against others, and to top off with the annoyance, you begin to play with his soft, all for persuasion.

“Please Veritas. Mr. Veritas Ratio, I promise I won’t bother you after this.”

You give a little soft kiss on the cheek. “Enough with your childish behaviour. Since I’m feeling quite generous right now I’ll provide you with something if you let go of me this instant.

“Yes sir!” Moving back instantly just going over to sit right on top of the desk after moving his paper to the side. Your shoe rubbed his leg with a bright smile on your face.

“Give me something good!”

“I’ll give something even better.”

𝒮𝒶𝓂𝓅𝑜 𝒦𝑜𝓈𝓀𝒾

“What’s wrong, sampo? Cat caught your tongue?”

Arms wrapped around his neck while you straddled his lap. A bright smile plastered all over your face. His arms wrap around your waist with a lazy grin on his face.

“Sampo Koski doesn’t mind this arrangement in the slightest. Yet I was hoping for something more,”

“Like what?”

“Maybe, perhaps, a kiss?”

You just laugh at his little “deal” before leaning in to kiss his forehead and he immediately gets that smile where it isn’t what he truly wanted.

“Hmm? What will I get from you? Can’t give something for free,”

“Am I not your dearest lover? Even kisses have prices these days?”

He begins to put on that sad tone so you would feel bad and kiss him out of pity. Pressing your forehead against his. “Maybe..for you I could spare something. Since I’m not a nasty scammer like you.” You smile at me with loving eyes, your tail wrapping around his leg, gently rubbing and creasing it. 

Leaning in to give a feather-light kiss right on the side of lips—not satisfying in the slightest, just makes him want so much more. “Another?” 

“No sorry, you'll have to buy the full package first.

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

It’s so difficult for you. Every time you try something with Sunday, you can’t help but be a little embarrassed and completely stop in your tracks.

 It feels like the simplest thing yet you can’t help that you’re doing something dirty, especially with Sunday making it worse by making you spell out what you want.

“What kinds of things do you think about?”

What does he take you as? Acting like your head is always in the gutter! Yet you won’t complain if that gets you affection from him.

To have me stare at you with his signature loving smile, gloved hands cupping your face, his forehead against yours, the feather of his wings gently touching your horns. 

“Anything related to you.” Looking lovingly at him, before he leaned, gently kissing your lip, making you grasp onto his collar—pulling him in deeper—making you breathless when he pulled away from you. 

“Sunday..”

“Shhh…let’s not end this so quickly.” He impatiently went back to your lips. Wanting way more than you could give him. And they say you’re the devilish one when they should be telling him that. 

𝒢𝒶𝓁𝓁𝒶𝑔𝒽𝑒𝓇

“Aren’t you drinking a bit too much?”

“Ha. Ha. I’m not drunk, I can hold my drink.” You laugh a little as you drink another shot. You can handle your drinks! You do feel a little red and dizzy but that’s just because it’s been a while.

Yet he knows you’re drunk. Sitting on the bar table like a carefree child. Gallagher is no idiot, he knows a drunk when he sees one.

“I’m so fine. Like so good. I mean I’ve never been better!” “Ah huh.” Your long tail was swinging around, wagging around before wrapping around his leg. Now he can’t move or else he might pull your tail while trying to get away.

You hiccup a little. “Gallagher, you wanna touch my horns? Hehe. I saw you staring at them before. Ya wanna?”

He isn’t the type to take advantage of you while you’re drunk but it’s not as if touching your horns would cause anything bad to happen. You did offer him the chance. Also, he might just be a little curious.

“Don’t blame me for you being stupid.” 

His white-gloved hand gently touched your horns, feeling the indents and the texture, but it was oddly cold. His touching just made you shut your mouth and tail wrap tighter.

When he pulled away from your horns you immediately missed his warm touch, causing you to take his hand and put it on your horns.

“Come on, don't stop now.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[taki-yaki]

Batstarion A!Astarion + S!Astarion Headcanons

Pairing: A!Astarion/S!Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav/Durge

This one took a while to write up, but I did learn some interesting facts about vampire bats and tried to apply them here.

**Spawn Astarion**

After the defeat of Cazador, Astarion soon discovered a book within the palace, which contained the skills of vampire spawns that his master never wanted him to know about.

One of these skills was to turn into a creature of the night, this quickly intrigued Astarion, causing him to try and master the spell. He even tries practising wild shape methods taught to him by Halsin.

This takes a while for him to master, night after night spent trying to improve his skills with no transformation in sight. One night, nearly at his wits end with trying to master it, you speak,

“Maybe it’s a phrase you have to shout, try yelling bat, maybe that would work?”

“Darling, I don’t think it’s going to be as simple as saying the word bat-”.

Suddenly,  who was once standing in place of Astarion, now lay a small white ball of fluff with wings.

You are greeted by happy chirps and squeaks, quickly turning into a chorus of angry squeaks. One drink of speak to animals potion unravels what he is saying.

“I can’t turn back, darling do something, I don’t want to be stuck looking like a rat!” he huffed.

“Try and relax, it might wear off?”

“How can I relax like this, I don’t even have arms!”

Softly touching the white curly on his head, with the lightest tip of your finger, the pale bat relaxes instantly within the palm of your hand, almost purring at your touch.

Suddenly, the weight shifted from your hands, causing you to drop the bat onto the ground, only for Astarion to shift back into his humanoid form.

Checking to see if he’s fine, you are greeted by light snoring coming from him, seemingly collapsed from exhaustion, the transformation takes on him. Over time, he learns how to master turning into a bat with ease, allowing him to require shorter rests after turning back.

Of course, with him being at such a small size, it makes travelling together simple from keeping him under a robe to shade him from the sun and his light weight. When shopping at local markets, he’ll take advantage of merchants fawning over how cute he is, giving you discounts on your produce, without being aware that he’s a blood-sucking vampire spawn under that white fluff.

“I do wish they gave us something more savoury and juicy for free” grumbling to himself.

“And miss out on all the other goods we get?”

“Hmmm…fair enough, but don’t be surprised if ask for extra tonight” responding with a smirk.

He would adore all the attention you give him in this form, from soft pets on his head to just relaxing with you at such a small size. At Wither’s reunion party, he would show it off to others about it any chance he gets, as his special party trick, beaming the whole way through. Although he would have to deal with the hangover afterwards from shifting constantly the next morning.

Additionally, if you can fly, whether that is by being a druid who can wild shape, to a draconic sorcerer who has gained their wings, you both have fun flying around together at night.

**Ascended Astarion**

For A!Astarion, transforming into a bat is as easy as a wizard casting a cantrip, simple and quick with no downsides.

A!Astarion wouldn’t be one to showcase his ability to shift into a bat at his grand masquerade parties, mainly for fear of being seen as a weak simple creature. Although he would use it to stealthily eves drop on others from the cover of the shadows.

After he’s fed you enough of his blood, if you are his spawn, he’ll teach you how to turn into a bat. In your bat form, he’ll fuss over you more, being more protective of you in this form, as if your body is a prized porcelain vase. Some of the servants just presume you're another bat he’s caring for out of the thousands in the palace.

Carrying you around in his shirt pocket to always gaze at you, whether he’s signing contracts to talking with nobles from other cities, he would be their watching over you, closer to his undead heart than ever before.

Eventually, after a while, he would teach you how to fully fly and would only allow you to fly out at night, only if he was there to keep watch over you. Whilst transformed into your bat forms, he would develop the habits of bats from trying to constantly groom your coat, by cleaning each other’s fur, despite your protests at times and sharing food with you by regurgitating blood as a gift to you.

Compared to the rare moments he is the one in bat form, he would only allow you to pet him, usually in private away from prying eyes, insisting that he has a reputation to uphold.

“Pet, I am all for you adoring me, but we mustn't tell others of this, I have an image to uphold after all”.

He would also experiment with applying some elements of his bat form to his humanoid form, such as shifting his arms to be bat wings, usually as an intimidation tactic, or to show off during his extravagant ball dance parties with you, by lifting you into the air with him.

When you carry him around in his bat form, he would try to nip you more often, unprompted over any small inconvenience. 

Not paying full attention to him? Bite,

Talking to someone other than him? Bite,

Just bored with nothing else to do? Bite.

But if you attempt the same thing to him when you're in bat form? He would laugh, calling you a “Cheeky little pup”.

However, if you keep trying to nip him, he will eventually gently order you to stop and ensure he’ll get his payback later in the day, still being petty about it.

[littlejuicebox]

Bruised.

Summary: School is not going well for Gale. Astarion and you rush to pick up your child after an unfortunate event leads to his injury. This is really just a little bonus blurb to the other piece I posted earlier today titled “Camping for beginners.”

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, Astarion being Astarion, parenthood, childhood, school bully, injury to a child, minor angst, this is unedited so there may be grammatical errors etc

Traffic on Wyrm’s Crossing is at a standstill. The two of your are in the carriage, rushing to pick up Gale after a sending spell announced recess went terribly wrong. Your eldest was injured by another child.

“Gods below, can we go any faster?” Astarion complains before sticking his head out the window and pounding angrily on the roof of the carriage to catch the driver’s attention. He barks an order and then ducks back inside the caravan just as the vehicle is forced into high speed.

Wyrm’s Crossing isn’t particularly long, but in this moment, it feels like the crossway between you two and your son’s school is further than a mere 2000 feet.

You sigh as you attempt to placate your husband, “Astarion, we have to try and be reasonable when we walk in, we can’t—“

“Reasonable!” Astarion hisses with a wry laugh, turning to look at you for the first time since you two rushed into the carriage, “Is it reasonable, darling, that our son has been attacked for the second time this year?”

“Of course not! But we have to—“ You start, but your husband cuts you off with a seething glare. You are not at all used to being on the receiving end of his vitriol; it’s shocking.

“I wanted tutors, but you insisted it would be good for Gale to be with other children closer to his age and look how bloody well that’s going, Tav!” He snaps, his hand slamming against the side of the carriage again in his rage.

That stung. Tears begin to well in your eyes as a reaction to your husband’s cutting remark.

Astarion groans and then pinches the bridge of his nose with a leather-gloved hand as he works to regain control over his emotions. He sighs and rubs his hand down his face before opening his eyes and looking at you, “I’m sorry, my love. That was unfair. I just— gods, let’s just get Gale and take care of this.”

You nod, still blinking away tears and unable to say anything further as you turn your face away from your husband and gaze outside the carriage window.

Astarion closes his eyes and chastises himself as he leans back into the carriage seat. The rest of the journey is made in silence.

*

When the two of you enter the headmaster’s office, you immediately spot Gale holding an ice bag over his eye. Astarion rushes to inspect the six year old and instantly fills with wrath, spinning on his heels to address the headmaster.

“Who did this, Alaric?” Astarion questions, stepping far too closely to the half-elven headmaster and jabbing an accusatory finger into the man’s chest, “Who did this under your watch?”

Headmaster Alaric Frostborne is no stranger to upset parents; he’s been in charge of the school for nearly fifty years. The half elf calmly holds his ground as he addresses Astarion, explaining he does not know who gave Gale a black eye but is working to find out.

You pull your six year old into your lap and help him hold the ice pack against his eye as you whisper a healing spell. The damage is done, and surely the school nurse has already used more than one healing potion, but you do it regardless. It might not help heal the bruising past this point, but you hope it will at least comfort your child.

In the safety of your lap, Gale finally begins to cry. The tears are silent, apart from the occasional sniffle, and you pull your eldest tightly against you, whispering words of comfort into his ear. He continues to weep as his father speaks to the headmaster.

“This is the second time this year, Alaric. I am sure I don’t need to remind you that my wife’s name is on an entire wing of this school,” Astarion continues, far too measured for the rage boiling inside as he spits his words at the headmaster, “So unless the Ancunins are to pull the donations you so desperately solicit from us each year, I suggest you work harder to fix this issue.”

Astarion turns and reaches for your son, knowing himself well enough to realize that if he does not leave the situation now, Alaric Frostborne will have a shiner matching Gale Ancunin’s.

You release the boy from your grip, allowing your husband to hoist the child into his arms and carry him out of the office. You watch through the window as two silver-haired heads enter the carriage.

You stand and linger for a moment longer, turning your cool gaze to Alaric as you assess him.

“I am a patient woman, Headmaster Frostborne,” You begin, your arms coming to cross your chest, “And perhaps viewed as more kind and less reactive than my husband… so let me be explicitly clear here. Should this problem continue, I will have you removed from your role faster than a Leviathan swims. Because should this matter continue, you’re clearly unfit to keep the students of this school safe. Understood?”

Alaric nods, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Is that a yes, Alaric? Am I clear?” You press, your eyes narrowing at the half-elf as you struggle to control the growing anger inside your own body. Sparks of magic threaten to fly from your hands before you regain control over yourself.

“Yes, Counsellor Ancunin. Crystal.” The headmaster responds, “We will continue our investigations until the matter is resolved.”

You nod but do not say anything further before you exit the headmaster’s office and breeze out of the school to rejoin your husband and son.

Hell hath no fury like a mother scorned.

[jeonjungkookenthusiast1997]

Seduced by Shadows

Summary: Y/N summons her demon boyfriend Bang Chan for a movie date night but things quickly escalate as the atmosphere gets hot and heavy.

This is my own work not a reblog! Please do not repost or translate.

Content Warnings: demon sex, magic used in sex, oral (male receiving), face fucking, cursing, pet names, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up people!), established relationship, rough sex, breeding kink, marking, possessive language, shameless smut, fluffy smut, domestic fluff, porn with feelings, Minho and Changbin make a brief appearance, demon form during sex, cum swallowing, demon summoning, an attempt at comedy

Word Count: 4,914

Navigation

It's been a very long day at work and all Y/N wants to do now is relax and unwind, she's had enough of her bosses nagging her and customers walking all over her. She hurries home as fast as she can and quickly grabs some chalk to draw the all to familiar summoning circle placing a candle around each point.

Happy with her work, having done this many times before tonight, she dusts her hands of the chalky substance and runs upstairs to her bedroom to make herself look a little more presentable. She applies some light makeup, a simple red lip with sleek winged liner, and puts on a sleek form fitting black dress before kneeling at the base of the circle and whispering a small spell to summon the great demon prince Bang Chan into her home. Almost immediately the white chalk lines are replaced by vibrant blue magic and she can instantly feel the crackles and sparks that shoot off from it, a gust of wind sweeps around the room before settling back down leaving a beautiful young man firmly at the centre.

Once the dust settles the man walks out of the circle and smirks "hey there babygirl, what took you so long?" he rolls his strong shoulders letting the bones crack with each movement "almost thought you weren't going to summon me tonight" he pouts slightly as he offers a hand for her to take which she happily does as he pulls her to her feet ``sorry Channie got held up at work stupid boss wouldn't let me leave, came home as fast as I could" she smiles sheepishly at him.

He chuckles softly taking hold of her chin turning her face towards his own "it's alright babygirl no need to apologise" he wraps an arm around her waist pulling her close against him "you look so fucking beautiful tonight baby~" his other hand slides down her back caressing her skin gently "what's the plan?" Y/N sighs contentedly feeling the demons strong arms wrapping around her so tightly "thanks you're not looking so bad yourself" she giggles as she looks him up and down his red hair is styled up and out of his face, his dark eyes shine beautifully and the intricately decorated jacket he wears shows how regal he actually is "I figured we could have something to eat, maybe watch a movie cuddled under the blankets'' she gives his chest a tight squeeze "wasn't sure how long we'd have before your bodyguards show up but wanted to do something nice tonight… I don't know if you remember but it's been a year exactly since I first summoned you" she blushes slightly feeling a little silly under his brooding gaze.

He nods stroking her cheek lovingly finding her embarrassed blush so very cute "of course I remember that sounds perfect babygirl, we can order some takeout, I'll even let you choose what movie we watch" he winks playfully giving her ass a playful slap making her jump slightly and let out a squeak "after all it's been a year since the best night of my life" Chan pulls her in for a soft kiss before adding "as for the bodyguards, Minho and Changbin won't be showing up anytime soon" he murmurs into her ear "we've got all night baby~" he wiggles his eyebrows seductively, she giggles at the seductive look he's giving her "really how do you know? because I don't want them walking in on us like last ti-" he stops her sentence with a soft kiss and a low growl "that won't happen again, no one but me gets to look at my baby's body" he stares down at her possessively making a shiver of anticipation crawl up her spine.

Her gaze moves from his eyes to his soft plump lips thinking to herself how kissable they look, realising she's getting distracted she shakes her head of the thoughts starting to niggle in the back of her mind, she pulls away from his body slightly and grabs his hand leading him to her kitchen where she digs out some takeout menus to look through "where do they think you are Channie? surely they know your here with me again" she asks with a raised eyebrow as she hands him a couple menus to look through "I left a few tasks to keep them busy, told them they were of the utmost importance to keeping the realm safe" he chuckles as she gasps and pushes his chest "if they find out you're here they'll kick your ass" she shakes her head at his antics "I had to tell them something!" he laughs as he explains his thoughts "they can try and kick my ass but I am a prince of Hell, plus if they do find out you never know maybe they'll understand, they already know I have a soft spot for you babygirl" he winks and pulls her into a warm embrace "if by some miracle they DO show up I'm here to protect you, they'd never lay a hand on you" she sighs and rolls her eyes playfully at him.

She picks up a menu for a pizza place, basic but yummy and not too heavy, and nods towards the paper asking him to tell her what he wants "you're going to get in so much trouble for being here again aren't you?" she asks as she wraps her arms around his body burying her face in his clothes, enjoying the way his scent wraps around her making her feel safe and loved, he quickly points to a pizza he likes then curls his fingers under her jaw and presses his forehead to hers whispering "maybe but I don't care anymore even my father couldn't keep me from you, you're going to be my queen one day" his promise makes her chest tighten as he smiles enjoying their embrace before reluctantly pulling away to let her order the food. She takes the menu and orders two large pizzas with extra cheese and pepperoni. It doesn't take long for the food to get there so they gather up from blankets from Y/N's bed and huddle onto her sofa.

She turns on a movie she knows they've seen a few times before and cuddles into his arms as they eat. Y/N cuddles up to Bang Chan's side as he drapes a large fluffy blanket over the two of them, once settled he places a soft kiss on her forehead as they start watching the movie "you know, when I first summoned you..." at her words he turns to look at her face intrigued "I never could have imagined I'd be having domestic as fuck movie dates with the crown prince of Hell" she giggles as she teases him, he chuckles at her teasing "yeah yeah I know, I'm a big bad demon and we're watching fuckin' Bride Wars while cuddled on your small ass sofa" he jokes as he pulls her closer to him as he sighs contentedly "the shit you do for love" he smiles as he kisses her lips gently. The word 'love' makes her heart thud rapidly against her ribs "I love you too Channie" she returns his kiss eagerly.

He wraps his arms around her tightly as he pulls her closer to his chest "I want to spend every moment with you, to just lay in bed with you every night and wake up to you every morning" he kisses her hair softly "I don't want to let go ever, I can't wait for the day I get to take you back with me rather than having to leave you here alone" his words almost make tears of happiness well up against her lashes ``want to spend the rest of my life with you Chan" she moves her hands to her fingers wrap around his jaw as she pulls him down into a passionate kiss. He lets out a low laugh as he leans down to kiss her again "I want that more than anything babygirl and I promise as soon as I can guarantee your safety I'll take you to Hell with me" he says as he begins to nibble along her neck gently, his fingers moving to run through her hair as he pours all his feelings of love and affection into her skin.

She sighs softly as she feels his warm lips on her skin "I'll make sure you keep that promise" she replies as she moves the hair from her neck giving him more access to mark her body the action making him smile as he continues to kiss her neck and shoulders nibbling on the sensitive skin, he leaves small red and purple marks peppered over her neck and collarbone. As he moves one hand to cup her face and bring her head close to his so he could look into her eyes "you'll stay with me? Forever?" he asks as he looks deeply into her eyes. She nods her head "forever" she promises as she shimmies the blanket off her body as she climbs into his lap, she wraps her arms around his neck "let me show you how much I love you Channie" she kisses him, licking over his bottom lip with her tongue making him groan as he grabs onto her hips pulling her closer towards himself as their tongues dance together passionately.

His other arm wraps tightly around her waist holding her firmly against him as she bites his lip gently before breaking apart panting heavily Chan looks at her with love filling his dark eyes "my beautiful baby…" Y/N pulls away from his lips to kiss down his neck and jaw leaving her own little bites and marks, claiming him as her own knowing that his court would know who left the marks on their prince. Once satisfied she moves her hands down to unbuckle the belts tied around his waist, next she unbuttons his shirt and pulls the material off throwing it to the floor, taking a moment to run her hands down his exposed body.

The demon prince lets out a low sigh as he feels her touch sending chills down his spine as he leans back and closes his eyes enjoying the sensation of her hands caressing his bare chest. With each movement of her fingers he can feel the warmth radiating through his body enjoying the way her nails dig into his skin "so pretty" she smiles as she kisses down his body moving off his lap to sit on the floor between his feet. She runs her hands over his muscled thighs then settles her hands on his belt slowly undoing the leather material letting it also fall to the floor.

He looks down at her with an intensely lustful gaze as he bites his lip at the feeling of her teasing his body. Chan reaches down to run his fingers through the silky length of her hair as he feels his body reacting to the seductive touch of her fingertips Y/N moves her attention to Chan's hardening length, she applies slight pressure making Chan suck in a sharp breath as she plays with him "don't tease babygirl, it's been too long since I've felt your hands on my body" she bites her lip nodding almost obediently as she motions for him to lift his hips so she can tug his pants down. As he sees her motions he lifts his hips allowing her to pull his pants down with ease, as soon as they are down she licks her lips at the sight of his pretty pink cock a bead of precum dribbles over the head of his length.

Chan growls in warning as he sees her staring "what did I say about teasing me?" he groans "sorry baby just love your cock, so pink and pretty" she smiles as she leans forward to lick off the precum from his head, she gives teasing licks and kisses down the length of his dick. He groans low in his throat as she starts licking his cock, the feeling of her tongue running along his shaft sends shivers across his body as he arches his back slightly urging her to stop teasing him "mmmh.." he moans softly. His big hands flex and grip onto the sofa cushions "ah ah" she tuts as she uses her hands to push his hips down and keep them there "we're doing this my way" she smiles as he looks down at her not fully sold on relinquishing control however his the worry soon leaves him as his mind goes blank when she wraps her lips around the head of his cock giving the slit as few licks then moving back to soft sucks around his cock head.

As she sucks his cock head he lets out a shuddering moan her soft sucks aren't quite enough, he starts gripping the cushions tighter as he begs "mhmm.. baby, please" Y/N feels pride swell in her chest at his reactions to her touch but she wants to explore his body "wanna take my time Channie, we're always rushing because of your bodyguards" she flattens her tongue against the underside of his length using her tongue to lick at the veins running along his length, moving her right hand from his hip she spits into it before gripping his length giving it short pumps. His eyes roll back as she spits into her hand and starts applying sweet pressure to his dick, he can feel pleasure starting to spark in this body "you're killing me babygirl," he pants "please let me fuck you already" she simply shakes her head as she rolls her wrist tightening her hold on his length letting her hand rub up and down as her mouth focuses on the head, she gives him a few hard sucks before she starts to move him slowly down her throat licking anywhere she can as she does, keeping up the rhythm with her hand.

His eyes close as he feels her hands and mouth working together in perfect harmony, she's always been good at making him melt with her touch, but this is on another level. Her tongue feels so sinfully good as he clutches onto the pillows and moans her name, as she moves her head further down taking in more of his length she keeps a firm hold on his length making sure every inch of him is covered and pleasured as best she can with his impressive size. Her thighs start to rub together in a bid to create some much needed friction as wetness starts to collect between her legs, having him in her mouth and hearing his moans turning her on quickly. He feels every movement in her throat, every twitch of her tongue, every touch of her hand. He's almost at the point of no return, and she hasn't even taken all of him yet. He knows he's done for as she steadily takes his full length down her throat, the tightness and wetness of her tongue and throat making his length throb as a low moan leaves his lips and his hands shoot out to take a hold on her head.

Suddenly she pulls off his length completely taking a breath as her hand keeps pumping him, when she's gotten a lung full of air she takes him back down her throat to the hilt and takes a hold of his hands and pushes them into her hair making him take a hold of her "shit~ you sure babygirl?" he asks, she taps his thigh to give her consent as he starts to fuck her throat his hips thrusting up into her mouth starting slowly at first to let her adjust. She takes everything he's got to give, her throat working against him in a rhythm that drives him wild. Her hair slides through his fingers as he tightens his grip, his eyes closed tight as he fights to maintain control and not go too rough. He can feel his release building in his balls, the pressure building with every stroke of her throat, his grip tightening as the rock of his hips increases as he fucks his cock down her throat as carefully as he can.

She moans around his length as he takes control of her body, the vibrations flow straight to his cock making him choke out a loud groan "fuck...fuck... close" he moans out as his grip on her hair becomes almost bruising, she uses her tongue to lick against his cock as he moves faster down her tightening throat. He feels his orgasm building, and with a grunt he grips her hair even tighter, his thrusts becoming more frantic, harder, his breathing quickening. Then it hits him, with a loud moan of her name he holds her head firm against his body as he cums hard down her throat as his grip on her head loosens she slowly pulls away from his cock making sure to clean him clean as she moves away, looking into his eyes she licks her lips and any precum left on her fingers "you good baby?" she asks with a giggle as his chest heaves heavily.

His breath coming in ragged gasps panting for air he nods, letting his hands run over his face before looking back down at her and nodding slightly, "yeah I'm fine..." he says softly, "I think you just sucked my dark soul out through my dick" he chuckles as his breathing evens out. She giggles at his dramatic comment "glad you enjoyed it baby" she crawls back onto his lap as she nuzzles his neck with her nose, Chan basks in her loving attention for a moment before he grins at her mischievously. His dark eyes glow blue as his magic crackles into existence, he clicks his fingers and teleports them to her bed where he throws her down and crawls over her body with a predatory gaze.

He smiles widely when they arrive at her room feeling himself getting lost in her beautiful eyes, he leans forward and presses gentle kisses along her jawline before trailing them lower towards her collarbone, licking lightly "I've missed this, missed feeling you" he clicks his fingers again to leave her bare in front of him, he nudges his nose along her neck as he growls possessively "you smell so fucking good babygirl... smell like me" a shiver runs down her spine at his words she lets out a small whimper as she spreads her legs for him "need you Channie" she reaches her hands out to grasp at his body.

His cock hardens at her words, he nips at her neck softly and smirks a little "need you too little one, need to be inside you... I need to hear your sweet voice calling my name as you cum around my cock..."he reaches his hand down and groans as he feels her slick running down her thighs "so wet... I'll barely have to prep you" he smirks as he pushes two of his long fingers into her wet pussy making her moan out. His words have her walls clenching down on his thick fingers as they thrust up hitting the deepest parts of her body "don't need prepped Channie, I can take you please...please need you in me now" she cries out as her hands come to grip his muscled arms.

He pulls back sucking her essence off his fingers and growls hearing her beg before reaching under her knees and lifting them over his shoulders. He groans deeply as he enters her, stretching her wide, slowly pushing his cock into her, filling her so deliciously as her moans steadily increase in volume before he begins to pound into her with force, his lips crashing against hers with a savage passion that matches his movements. Her back arches off the bed as he sets a rough pace pounding her back into the bed as her eyes screw up from the immense pleasure "want you to call me by my birth name babygirl" he grunts as he re angles his hips to make sure his cock head is hitting her g-spot "want you to call me Chris" a loud moan leaves both of their lips as she clenches down on his length, she nods her head immediately moaning out his name "C-Chris~ fuck baby... you're cock is filling me so deeply" she chases his lips as he trusts into her.

He grips her asscheeks tight pulling closer as he continues to pound into her hard, his teeth bared in a feral grin as he speaks "always wanted to hear you moan my given name...had to wait until I knew you'd be my queen" he grunts each time his cockhead rubs against her g-spot. He growls out her name as he slams into her faster and harder, his breath coming in short bursts, his face twisted in pure lust as her pussy sucks him in greedily. Her bed starts to shake with every thrust but neither of them could care what her neighbours can hear, she whimpers and clenches down on him as he calls her his words "you like that babygirl? when I call you my queen?" he grins as she nods her head, her grip on his body tightening as he rocks her body back and forth.

He groans loudly as he feels her tighten around him, her walls squeezing tightly around his shaft as he pounds into her relentlessly, his hands gripping onto her thighs for support as he leans forward kissing and licking her neck "well I love calling you my queen because that's what you will be when we get married" he whispers between kisses, his voice hoarse from all the exertion as he lays his heart bare for her. Her cries in pleasure are making her throat sore but she can hardly recognise the pain through the immense pleasure shooting through her limbs "'m gonna fuck my babies into you, gonna breed you so every demon out there knows your mine" his grip on her thighs tightens, the skin turning red from how hard he's gripping her "need your cum Chris" Y/N cries out.

The sound of her cry sends shivers up his spine, his hand reaching down to stroke her clit in gentle circles "I'm going to fill you up babygirl, mark you as mine" he whispers before leaning down to kiss her lips passionately, his tongue sliding into her mouth eagerly "want you to cum around my cock~" he grunts as his fingers increase their speed on her throbbing clit. Y/N reaches her hands up to rest in his hair tugging roughly as he thrusts into her, she whines loudly as the pleasure of his fingers on her clit and his cock spearing into her g-spot have her eyes rolling back as she babbles cock drunk "g-gonna- g- gonna cum!~ cumming~" she cries as she bucks her hips up, thighs shaking wildly.

He grunts as she tugs on his hair and he feels her buck against him, her body trembling beneath his touch as she cums hard around his thick member, coating it in her slick "ohh fuck...you're such a good girl for me..." he moans softly, as his thrusts become erratic a familiar blue crackle fills the room as his regal red horns sprout from his head making her gasp, knowing his horns are sensitive she gives them a rough tug making his hips stutter into her walls.

He growls deeply in pleasure at her rough touch on his horns thrusting into her harder as he feels them being played with, making his eyes roll back as he loses himself in the moment "you're so fucking sexy playing with my horns like that...Y-Y/N... I-I'm…" she clenches her walls down hard as he gives her one last rough thrust before he's spilling his hot cum into her pussy, rocking his hips forward as he slowly comes down from the intense high she's milking from him.

He releases a ragged groan of pleasure as he spills himself into her feeling her tight walls clench down on his cock making him shudder with pleasure, leaning forward as he kisses down her neck groaning as he feels her soft lips against his neck "fuck...you're so-wet and warm around me…" they stay still wrapped in each other's arms for a moment as their breathing becomes less erratic Y/N winds her hands through his hair, brushing her fingers over his golden tipped horns with a small smile on her face.

A smile plays on his lips as he feels her hands in his hair and ghosting over his horns reaching up he wraps his fingers around her waist, tugging her closer to his chest as he nuzzles his nose against her own "I love you" a soft giggles escapes her lips at his feather light touches "I love you too Chris" the demon on top of her blushes slightly but smiles moving his lips to place kisses along her wrists, once his length has started to soften he pulls out of her slowly moving his body away to get a damp cloth to clean them up with.

Chan quickly and carefully cleans her up first then gives himself a quick wipe down before throwing the cloth into a nearby bin, he rejoins her in bed crawling over her body as he pulls her close his face inches from hers as he places light kisses over her cheeks then down to her lips. She returns his soft kisses sighing contently, he rubs his nose against her neck then he looks into her eyes "if you ever wait that long before you summon me again I'll hunt you down and make your life insufferable" he laughs as he gently pokes her side "didn't wanna disturb you in case you were busy with your 'princely duties' but couldn't pass up the opportunity to see you tonight" he hums at her answer "summon me anytime you want or need me babygirl, I'm all yours" he smiles as she gives him a tight squeeze.

A low hum rumbles in his throat as he holds onto her tighter, unable to resist the urge to claim every inch of her body. His lips are hot and demanding as they take hers desperately, their tongues intertwining together without restraint. Chan softly pushes Y/N into her bed and he's about to crawl back on top of her when the pair hear two very familiar voices pounding on her bedroom door "you in there Chan?" Changbin asks, sounding a bit sheepish, as a slap fills the space "of course he is, can't you smell them" Minho complains and she can already imagine the look of disgust on his face. Chan simply growls low in this throat "someone better be fucking dying" clearly not sensing the danger they're in at interrupting Chan the duo burst into the room "no one's dying yet… woah" Minho blinks as he points to Chan's clearly visible horns grumbling as he dodges a pillow thrown at his head by Chan.

The frustrated demon prince pulls Y/N behind his back and makes sure her body is covered completely before giving his friends his attention "demons are whispering about how long you've been gone man" Changbin speaks before hesitantly adding "the king and queen, y'know your parents, are demanding you return home" he flinches slightly expecting another pillow to come flying at them.

The sigh that leaves Bang Chan is one of defeat and annoyance "fine fine I'll get dressed and come back home" he turns to his pretty human with a frown " 'm sorry babygirl, I'll make it up to you, yeah?" he places a chaste kiss against her lips, he gives her one last longing look before he stands making the men quickly cover their eyes "you could've waited till we left the room ew" Minho tuts as Changbin laughs silently "you two" Chan points between them "wanted me to hurry and I was clearly very busy before you teleported here" an amused laugh leaves his friends as they both nod muttering a joint "clearly" while looking at each other with smirks on their faces which only works to increase the frown on Chan's gorgeous face.

Using his magic he quickly redresses himself and his lover allowing Y/N to stand and say goodbye, she gives him a long passionate kiss before muttering a soft "I love you" against his lips. With a longing sigh he responds "I love you too babygirl" he gives her one last tight squeeze before standing with his life long friends and bodyguards "a pleasure as always" Minho smiles giving her a small bow "same time next week" Changbin jokes earning a slap to the back of his head from Chan and a laugh from Minho and Y/N "bye boys, look after him will you?" she speaks sweetly, receiving an earnest nod from the two slightly smaller demons as she blows Chan a kiss and watches with a sigh as they disappear in a haze of smoke "see you next week" she smiles to herself as she flops onto her bed curling into her bed sheets surrounded by the scent of her royal lover.

Banner made by: @cafekitsune 💙

[canadianfangirl-95]

Take Care.

Summary: Frankie and the Triple Frontier guys go to their local bar to get Frankie a date. He decides to pursue the new bartender.

Rating: 18+, minors DNI.

Warning: smut, p in v, oral f receiving

Hey, this is my first time writing in more than a decade and I have been loving everyone's work on here so much I wanted to give it a try. please let me know if you enjoyed or if you have any feedback! Also, I am Canadian so there are definitely some spelling that may be different from American and also some simple things like how in Canada the waitress brings the credit machine to the table instead of taking the card, stuff like that. Anyway, I'm rambling, enjoy!

Word count; 11k+

The dimly lit sign of the bar had a few letters burnt out of it. The green leather booths hadn’t been updated since the place opened 20 years ago. The wood bar had been meticulously cared for and still shone with the polish it received weekly. It was a humble bar, a place for regulars and the odd collection of students who would trickle in from the college 10 miles from there. But that sign laid up against the burnt orange Texan sky made a certain group of ex-military men, trying to find their place back in a world that has very much changed since their time in the service, feel like they could have a few beers and cheers to forget about the worries in their lives.

The four men poured into the bar at their usual time every other Friday night. They were all busy in life right now but made sure they still got together on a regular basis. They would laugh about old times, be each other’s wing men so that at least of them could get lucky from time to time and remind themselves how exceptionally bad Santiago is at pool for someone who is such a sharpshooter in the field.

Benny and Will slid in on opposite sides of their regular spot to meet in the middle on the c shaped booth, followed by Santiago on the right side and Frankie on the left edge, always sitting with his right leg slightly in the aisle to stretch out.

Santiago scanned the room intently, not unusual as this was a habit the four of them had developed during their time in the service, however his face gave Frankie an uneasy feeling when it suddenly met his with a half smirk.

“Okay boys, I know we all like to have our fun on these nights, but tonight we are focusing on Morales alright?” Santiago said firmly to Benny and Will with an outstretched hand pointed at Frankie.

Frankie instantly furrowed his brow at this sudden declaration, “What do you mean focus on me?” He scanned Benny and Wills’ faces to see if they were in on something he wasn’t aware of.

“I mean,” Santiago started, leaning forward on the wood table, his face becoming more illuminated under the low glow of the hanging light pendant above them, “you need to get laid because it has for one, been too damn long, two, you’re shit at talking to women lately and three as your roommate I’m sick of hearing you listen to Alanis Morisette on repeat.” Santiago counted the reasons in his right hand before laying it flat on the table and quirking his left eyebrow up at his friend.

Before Frankie could open his mouth fully, Will interjected pointing lazily in Frankies direction. “He doesn’t need a cheap hookup, Pope. What Frankie needs is a relationship to get back into it. A nice girl that will take care of him.” Will crossed his arms and rested his back gently on the booth as he gave Frankie a reassuring smile.

“Nah, I’m with Pope on this one.” Benny perked up, “One night between the sheets and then he’s back in the streets.” He had a shit eating grin on his face like he always did whenever someone talked about a hook up. Benny being the ladies’ man he is was always down to support his friends getting some.

“Thank you, Benny, someone’s got some sense here.” Santiago tilted his head toward Benny who nodded back.

“Do I get a say in this?” Frankie asked callously, his right hand waived slightly in the air with his question and his other perched underneath his chin as he listened to his friends dive into the dampness that is his love life.

“No.” all three men said in unison with a quick glance at him. He gave a huff and watched as they all returned to a conversation he was seemingly excluded from.

“Now I’m not saying he doesn’t need someone to take care of him, I’m just saying he needs someone to take, care, of him you know what I mean?” Santiago winked and dragged out a select few words to make his point.

“Ohh yeah.” Benny slyly chimed in.

Will pulled his shoulders off the back of the booth and shifted his body toward Santiago who instantly felt his lecture being prepared, “No, no he needs someone to take care of him in more ways than just physically. He needs be taken care of emotionally as well.”

The three men spurred into a loud retort of their opinions, hands waving back and forth towards Frankie as he looked at the fishing painting laden behind Bennys head that he’s seen a hundred times before.  Frankie knows he hasn’t been in a relationship or even had a hook up in almost a year. He had finalized his divorce 3 years ago and since then he hasn’t had much luck with women, so he lost interest in trying. The dating apps were getting routine as well. Some girl in her twenties he had nothing in common with and couldn’t even tolerate enough to get through a one night stand was pretty typical.

They were all so distracted in their own nonsense they didn’t notice when she suddenly appeared at the edge of the table with her notepad and pen in hand. After a quiet hello and no interest from the men she brazenly tapped her pen on the table between them and they all stopped mid-sentence to turn and look at her with the same taken aback expression on their faces.

“Hi, um, sorry to interrupt, I’m Sadie and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” She said with a weary smile to the group of ridiculously good-looking men.

All four men looked at her face, tan and freckled with a wide smile that lit up her green eyes. Beautiful amber red hair that fell loosely down her back with a slight curl. And then down to her white tank crop top, short black waitress apron tied around her hips with a few highlighters and a bottle cap opener tucked in over light wash flare legged ripped jeans. Finishing off the look with red cowboy boots, close enough of a colour to match her hair.

Their heads immediately snapped back to one another’s and then back at hers as she sheepishly waited their response. Frankie pulled the hand that had been resting under his chin down to his lap with an interested look.

Santiago shifted in his seat, turning on his heart winning smile as an idea grew behind his eyes. “Sadie, you said?”

She smiled and nodded back to him, holding her pen to her paper now. Expecting to take his order next. But Santiago was never known to be predictable.

He slid his left elbow to rest on the top of the booth and angled himself toward her. The three other men shared a quick glance at each other, unsure where he was going with this interaction.

“I’ve never seen you here before, when did you start?”

“It will be two weeks tomorrow actually.” She responded with a pleasant smile.

“Huh, how long have you been bartending?” He asked.

She pursed her lips to think and squinted as she replied, “About 5 years. But I just do it to pay for my schooling.” Her hair flowed on her shoulder, and she brushed the piece on her left side onto her back, revealing more of her perfectly tanned and freckled skin under the bright white top.

Santiago raised his eyebrows at this information, egging him on to continue the conversation. “What are you in school for?”

“I’m getting my master’s in child psychology through an online university.” Sadie replied with a confident smile, clearly prideful of her career choice.

Santiago pressed on, “Wow that is amazing. Good for you, where were you working before you came here?”

With a huff she shrugged, “I was just at this one chain restaurant across town. But I didn’t get good tips there and as my education is ridiculously expensive, I decided to make a change.”

“What brought you to our little slice of paradise?” Santiago quipped with a charming smile.

Frankie watched as his friend went back and forth with the beautiful bartender. She wasn’t Santiagos typical type, so he was skeptical on what his motive to have this lengthy of a conversation with her was. Not that Frankie was minding as he was as intrigued with this woman as Santiago seemed to be.

She hummed; she was surprisingly pleased with the actual interest in her. But she knew the type, the charmer. Luckily, she knew exactly how to deal with a charmer in her years in the bartending industry. Get them to blink first.

“My friend actually used to work here for a few months. She said that there are so many regulars that you get the opportunity to get to know people and then they start taking care of you and tipping well.” Sadie spoke confidently, knowing she had the attention of these men and thought now would be a good time to turn the tables. “Plus, and her words not mine,” she waived her hands casually, still holding the pen and notepad in her right hand. “She said if you have a great ass you’ll get great tips. So, here I am.” She chuckled.

Frankie, Benny and Will all blushed briefly, but Santiago stayed with his eyes firm on the target.

“So, you’re saying you have a great ass?” he quickly retorted.

“I guess that will be decided on how good your tip is.” She leaned forward slightly, not breaking eye contact with the man until he finally broke and turned his head with a chuckle.

“Do you say that to all your customers to get a better tip?”

Sadie smiled, “Only if I’m sure they’ll fall for it.”

Damn, Frankie thought. Smart, quick, and funny. He’s concerned Santiagos interest is more peaked than he thought and now he’s the one who’s been sitting idly by while his best friend flirts with one of the most perfect women he’s ever met.

Santigo laughed this jab off and turned to look at the boys. All of whom had an approving look on their faces of the verbal joust they just witnessed between their cocky friend and the new bartender.

When he turned back to her, smile still brazen on his face, he said “We’ll get two pitchers of Corona. We’ll do four by the end of the night so each of us will take one on our bills.”

She wrote down the order, and then looked up and asked, “What can I put down for names on the bills?”

“Santi, that’s Will, Benny and Frankie.” Santiago smiled while gesturing to the guys around the table. “I’ll take one of these on mine.”

“I’ll take the other.” Will raised his hand and smiled when she nodded at him.

“Alright,” she penned in her notepad. “Santi, Will, Benny and Frankie. Will do you ever go by Willy or Billy?” she asked with a soft look.

Will sat up straighter, chuckling slightly. “Uh, no not really. Why?”

“Oh, I just thought if you did then all your names would rhyme, and you could be a fun boy band with rhyming names that’s all.” She said with a giggle. The guys all laughed and tried to convince Will it would be a good change. To which he shook his head.

Sadie stole a quick glance at Frankie whose eyes hadn’t left her for much of the conversation. Not that she minded, his deep brown eyes and curly hair pushing itself out from underneath his baseball hat were cute. She is accustomed daily to lingering glances of men, but this one made her breath catch slightly before speaking again.

“Well then, two pitchers of Corona and one opportunity to check out my ass without judgement coming right up.” She crossed a line on the note pad and turned swiftly towards the bar. Hips swinging a little more than she’d like to admit.

All the men graciously took their opportunity and turned their heads slightly to catch a sight of her walking away.

Santiago turned quickly to the group, “Guys, she’s the one.”

“The one?” Benny asked, arms folded over his chest and leaned back as far as he could. Trying to get comfortable as the biggest guy in the booth.

“Yes, the one we were just talking about. For Frankie.” Santiago gestured to his friend who perked his eyebrows up at the new thought that Santiago wasn’t interested in Sadie at all. “It can go both ways, he could either have a great hook up with a hot bartender and then just keep a professional relationship with her here if there’s nothing more to it, or he could get into a relationship with a great, smart, nice and competent girl.”

Frankie adjusted himself in his seat. “What if it went South and she was pissed at me. Then all we have is a bartender at our favourite spot spitting in our pitchers.” He didn’t think she’d be the type, but he was also incredibly nervous by Santiagos proposition.

They all took a beat, taking in this possible outcome. They looked over at Sadie at the bar. She was pouring a tall beer for a woman and chatting in a bubbly and infatuating way. She reached below the bar and tossed a coaster onto the top. She placed the beer on top of the coaster and slid it over to the customer with a bright smile. The men all watched as she flung her hair over her back and gathered it loosely in her right hand while she fanned her face with her left, seemingly making a comment about the heat behind the bar with the warm lights above her. Her skin shone and her eyes squinted slightly as she talked, moistening her lips as she listened to her coworker.

Santiago turned back to the group, “Yeah, I think that’s worth the risk buddy. At least it would be for me.”  A devilish grin wiping his face.

Frankie’s gaze didn’t waver from her. He observed her low neckline that curved on her plush chest. The way her tan stomach peaked out below her top showing off her belly button ring. The tattoos on various parts of her body that he would love to get a closer look of, or taste.

He adjusted himself slightly before making eye contact with Santiago. “Alright, I’m in.” They all cheered, and Benny patted him on the back. “But I don’t even know where to start man.”

“That’s why you have me, don’t sweat it okay.” Santiago dove into his seemly well thought out plan considering he only met Sadie a mere minutes ago. “When she brings the drinks back, we’ll get her talking again, make sure you actually contribute this time.” He gave a pointing glare to his friend, which made Frankie shrug his shoulders slightly, making him appear a bit smaller. “And then about 20 minutes later, you go over to the bar, order some food, and strike up a conversation. We’ll see where we’re at after that.”

The three men nodded at this suggestion. Frankie was suddenly never more nervous for his beer to arrive. Ironically, he needed the beer to make him able to go through with this. He hasn’t felt this nervous around a woman in longer than he can remember.

Benny and Will started into their typical conversation about Ben’s upcoming fight. They all loved Benny’s hobby. It provided them with great entertainment and an opportunity to get into the ring themselves during his training to get out a bit of frustrations. Will was just diving into the schedule and reminding the guys when they needed to check in as security detail when Sadie appeared from the bar with two pitchers in one hand four beer mugs in the other and 4 coasters tucked into the strap of her tank top.

“Whoa, incoming.” Santiago said as he cleared his phone and wallet off the table to make room.

Sadie carefully placed the two pitches down before grabbing the coasters from her strap and tossing them down one by one in front of the men. She then sat each glass atop the coasters and put her hands on her hips with a huff.

“Well then, and they say bartending isn’t a physical job.” A thanks coming round the table from each of the men. “Can I take care of anything else for you right now?”

Before the group was able to speak a rowdy bunch of college boys pushed themselves through the door and stumbled to a table nearby. Sadie rolled her eyes at the sight.

“Are you okay?” Frankie asked, earning him an approving look from Santiago.

“Yeah, it’s just the college kids that come in here can get really annoying and handsy. It’s fine though, better than dealing with men who probably have daughters the same age as me asking what time I get done my shift.” She looked somewhat deflated at the reality of her job, that it wasn’t all pouring drinks and chatting with nice handsome men.

The guys all looked at each other, they had spent plenty of time with guys like that in the service. The one’s who would try to take up skirt shots of the waitresses when they would go out as a group. It made them apologetic for their gender.

“Sucks, sorry about that.” Benny finally rang out on behalf of the group.

She just gave a half smile, her eyes a little dimmer than before as she mentally prepared to go over and get their orders.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about anything like that tonight. We’ll keep an eye on them. This guy right here,” Frankie threw a hand on Ben’s shoulder, “is a big MMA fighter and the rest of us do security for him at the fights. If they get out of hand, I’m sure we can take care of them.”

Sadie lifted her head a little higher, impressed by the apparent knight in shining armor sitting to her left, ready to take care of her. “Hm, thanks Frankie. I’ll keep you- that, that in mind.” She stammered, before retreating over to the table with the college boys. Head held a little higher knowing she wouldn’t have to call one of the cooks from the back to throw a guy out like she’s had to do twice already at her new place of work.

Frankie watched intently, keeping an eye on the three college guys while they gawked at Sadie and her uncomfortably smiling back at them. Finally breaking attention when Santiago snaps his fingers at him.

“That was perfect buddy. A little damsel in distress and hero thing going on. She thinks she needs you to take care of her, very well played.”

“I wasn’t playing her; it sucks she has to deal with that shit at work and I wanted her to know that she could relax a bit tonight.”

“Fair enough, either way. I think she’s starting to like you. Which brings us to our next stage of the plan.” He rubbed his palms together with a devilish grin. Benny and Will chuckled at the commitment their friend had to his masterful plan. If he had a whiteboard available right now, he would’ve done a whole chart of each move he wanted Frankie to make.

“Why use our poor excuse of security work as an example and not oh I don’t know, our years in the military?” Will asked with his head cocked.

Frankie finished pouring his drink and hummed, “I’ll tell her, just a uh- topic of conversation for later.” He finally grinned, not wanting to reveal too much to her so he would have something to talk to her about later.

Half an hour later, the men had been nursing their beers in an effort to prevent an unplanned visit from Sadie if she noticed they needed a refill. All the while she stole glances to the booth wherever she was and with whomever she was talking to. Frankie saw her hold her position behind the bar long enough without anyone else talking to her and decided it was his opportunity to have another talk with her.

He slinked up from his seat in the booth, with his friend’s encouragement and walked over to the bar. She was illuminated by low hanging lights and beer company signs. There were bottles of liquor along the wall behind her and stacks of glasses of all sorts of shapes and sizes.  

“Hey,” she beamed at him when he leaned against the counter. “Can I help you with anything?”

Frankie calmed his nerves the best he could, wiping a bit of peanut dust off the bar in front of him. “Yeah, uh we were actually just wondering if we could get an order of the nachos for the table.”

She blushed, slightly embarrassed, “Oh sorry I guess I haven’t checked in on you guys in a while.”

“No, no it’s fine. You’re obviously busy tonight.”

Sadie smiled at his consideration and moved over to the computer. “Well, still sorry about that. But I promise I’ll take care of you now.” She worked quickly on the computer and then looked up at him. “Whose tab should I put it on?”

“Uhm,” He looked over his shoulder at his friends, and snickered at Santiago briefly. “Put it on Pope’s tab.”

“Pope?” she looked back puzzled.

“Shit, sorry, Santi.”

She nodded, finishing the order. “Those will be out in about 15 minutes.”

“Great, thanks.” Frankie tapped his hands on the bar, unsure how to keep this conversation going.

She grabbed a washcloth and spray and started cleaning up a spill on the counter below her. “So, Frankie” Her thought was stopped abruptly by the sound of a group in the corner cheering and clinking their beer mugs. She chuckled to herself at the interruption. “Since you guys aren’t a boy band, how did y’all meet?”

There’s that topic of conversation he was waiting for. “We all served together, in the military.” He said causally.

Sadie lifted her eyebrows, clearly impressed by the new information about these lovely strangers she’d just met. “Wow, well thank you for your service I guess.” They shared a smile. “Is that where Santis nickname comes from?”

“Yeah, yeah. He’s Pope, Will is iron head, and I’m uh- Catfish. Fish for short.” He nodded away shyly.

“That’s so cool. It’s nice to see you’re all still so close. But wait, what’s Bennys nickname?”

Frankie rubbed his chin; thankful she didn’t immediately dive into the reason for his nickname. “He actually doesn’t have one. He came up the ranks a little later than the rest of us and the nicknames had already been dealt out so, a bit of an oversight by us.”

“Huh,” she simmered in his explanation briefly. “So, what do you do now?”

“I was a pilot when I was in active duty so now, I’m an instructor for the base in the next town over.” He loved telling women he was a pilot; it was something a step above what everyone else did during their time in the service, so it made him feel a little special.

She clearly thought he was special too, as she stopped cleaning to put one hand on her hip where her jeans were a little too low and her shirt was a little too high. How Frankie wanted to feel how soft she must be in that spot as he stared at her hand. “That’s really cool Frankie. It must be amazing being up there and in control of it all.”

“It is, I really enjoy flying. I could uh, take you up sometime in a helicopter if you’d like.”

“Oh Frankie, I don’t make good enough tips here that I could afford a private helicopter tour.” She laughed, grabbing some glasses to clean.

“No, it wouldn’t, I wouldn’t charge you anything. I bring friends up all the time.” He stated, hoping to not sound too forward.

She peered up at him through her eyelashes, interested in his forwardness. “So, I would qualify for the friend discount then? Didn’t you just meet me an hour ago?” Sadie blushed, she liked the thought of being Frankies friend, or more.

“Would you believe I’ve always made friends fast?” He asked, “On my first day of basic Santi picked me out of the crowd, sat right down next to me because I looked the quietest of the group and he didn’t want to deal with all the typical macho army guys. We’ve been best friends ever since.”

Sadie looked down at the counter she was cleaning and thought for a moment. “Well, I’m so busy right now my best friend is pretty much my mom so making a new friend wouldn’t be so bad now that I think of it.”

Frankie started to respond, but one of Sadie’s coworkers came behind the bar and asked her to talk to the manager as they needed to see her.

“Alright I’ll be right there. I’ll get those nachos out to you as soon as they’re ready Frankie.”

Before he could say anything, she retreated to the back area for employees with a smile in his direction.

Frankie returned to his friends and slid into the booth. “So, how’d it go?” Santiago pressed.

“Good, the nachos will be out in like, 10 minutes.” Frankie said casually, sipping on his beer.

Santiago looked around breathlessly before sputtering, “I don’t give a damn about the nachos.”

Benny raised his hand, “I uh, actually do give a damn about the nachos.” Always ready to eat a full meal no matter the time of day.

“Fish, how did it go with Sadieee.” He elongated her name to accentuate how visibly annoyed he is about his friend’s slack attitude.

Frankie and Benny chuckled to themselves, “It was good man alright. She’s nice. I told her about us serving together, the nicknames came up, offered her a ride in a helicopter. You know, casual stuff.” He looked to the Millers who nodded along. Frankie was trying his best not to seem too excited, because truthfully, he was already developing a big crush just from the few interactions with her.

Santiago tilted his head at his unsuspecting friend. “You invited her for a helicopter ride? The second time you talked to her.”

Frankie shrugged, “Yeah, it just came up. Girls like that stuff. She thought it was cool when I told her about it so, I don’t know.” His nervousness grew with the line of questioning.

“What happened to leaving it open for a one-night stand?”

“It still can be, or maybe it could be something real. I’d prefer the latter but, we’ll see I guess.”

Santiago leaned back in his seat, unsure where to go in his plan based on this new information. He stewed for a few minutes while the guys went back into conversation.

His train of thought was cut when Sadie appeared and placed the nachos on the table. “Here you go, I’ll be right back with some plates.”

She returned and placed the plates on the table, she then unexpectedly pulled a water bottle out of her apron and pulled a chair up to the front of the booth to sit down from a nearby table.

The group looked with surprise at the sudden guest at their table. Frankie thanked the stars that they asked for the nachos when they did.

“Sorry to interrupt but I am finally on a break, and I just found out that the other closer for the night was the girl that called in today.” She took a sip from her water before proceeding. “So that means I am closing by myself and something that typically takes 30 minutes is going to take an hour. Yay me, and I don’t really have any interest in sitting in that dreary break room right now to wallow in my self-pity for how late I am going to get home tonight.”

“Hey, it’s no problem, more the merrier.” Will leaned in to cheer her with his beer and her water bottle.

“So, the nick name thing. I have multiple questions.” She started.

The group of men laughed, “Okay what you got.” Santiago asked.

“Pope, where the hell did that come from, because from my slight interactions with you, I would personally point you towards a more Southern direction in that aspect.” She touched her hands to her chest and laughed along with Santiago.

“I gave a lot of speeches back in the day and really laid on my so-called wisdom a little thick which ended up earning me the title.” He shrugged with his laugh and pulled his beer up to his lips, without breaking eye contact.

“Huh, interesting. And Benny,” she suddenly turned her attention to the younger man over to her left who pointed at himself cautiously. “No nick name. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“Don’t even get me started,” he leaned forward. The rest of the men groaned, apparently hearing this over and over again. “I totally got shafted on that.”

Sadie propped her right hand under her chin leaning forward. Frankie at his angle could see a side view of her cleavage and realized he needed to drop his glance quickly before she noticed. “Well, what would your nick name be if you could choose one now?”

Without hesitation Benny beamed with excitement. “Oh, I have been thinking about this for a damn long time. If I could pick my name, it would be Steel Heart.”

She looked at him puzzled, “Steel Heart?” he nodded confidently. “Because your brother is Iron Head and you what, steal women’s hearts?”

“Bingo.” Benny grinned shooting her a finger gun and a wink, clearly enjoying his moment.

The rest of the group looked at each other and revealed in Bennys excitement.

“Seriously man?” Will questioned.

“Oh, because Iron Head is so damn cool?”

“Well, yeah I mean it is.” Will said, shrugging against his brother who was giving him an annoyed look.

“What about you hermosa what would your nick name be?” Frankie asked Sadie softly. Her eyes flicked to him, and he felt his heart skip a beat. She brushed her hair behind her left ear and put her mouth to her shoulder to meet his eyes. They stared at each other for a moment while she contemplated the question.

She finally turned back to the group from the little bubble she and Frankie had been enjoying themselves in. “Oh, I don’t think I can answer that right now, that’s too big of a decision. Check back in next time I see you and maybe I’ll have an idea.” She smirked at him, very much hoping there would be a next time she saw him.

Frankie nodded, accepting this answer, and soaking in the attention he got from her. He wanted to know what it was like to have his mouth on her shoulder like she had just done. He thought about pulling her strap down with his teeth and running his mouth along her soft shoulder up to her neck as she gasped for more -.

“Fish!”

Frankie looked frantically, realizing he had completely zoned out and missed whatever just happened. He’s praying he had at least let his eyes fall to table and not leave them on Sadie’s shoulder the whole time. Will leaned over, “Fish did you hear me?”

“No, sorry I must’ve zoned out for a second, what’s up?” He squinted his eyes trying to pay attention as the group smirked at his lack of attention.

Will continued, “Sadie asked where Catfish came from, I said you should be the one to answer that.” He winked.

Frankie slouched down, there goes that relief. “I had a hard time growing facial hair when I was what, twenty-three. Anyway, they said it looked like catfish whiskers.” He slumped further down and tried to avoid the gaze of Sadie. While the guys chuckled at their long-standing joke. She leaned over and put a hand on his arm with a squeeze. She could tell he was uncomfortable and didn’t like the story.

“Hey, it’s okay. Your facial hair is pretty cute now and that’s all that matters.” Sadie missed the glances of the other men as they enjoyed the moment their friend was having with the girl they were trying to set him up with all night. She winked and lingered her glance at the man now blushing.

Frankies eyes burned into her with want and desire, she felt herself flutter suddenly and a warmness grew in her gut as she thought about how long her hand has been on his arm. She pulled away and tucked her hand under her chin, trying to cover how flushed she felt her chest becoming.

Ruining the moment, the group of college boys had started making more noise and gesturing to her. She sat up straight in her seat and grabbed her water bottle. “Well, I’d say that’s my cue to get back to it.” She huffed.

Sadie stood back up and adjusted her apron on her hips. “Thanks for the distraction guys, want me to get you those next pitchers?”

They all nodded with half smiles as she went back to the bar to drop off her water bottle. She then slowly strutted over to the table the college guys were sitting at and stood with her back to the men in the booth.

“Hey guys can I help you with anything?” Sadie asked cautiously, scratching her scalp with the back of her pen and doing whatever she could not to make eye contact with the insufferable boys who were obviously checking her out.

The boys shuffled and stifled their laughs, the one sitting to the right of Sadie had a backwards hat on and blonde hair peeking out. He wore a crisp new white t shirt and his hands had clearly never seen a day of work in his life. “Yeah, we were just wondering which one of those guys over there is your boyfriend?” He nodded back to the booth Frankie and the guys were sitting in.

Sadie looked over her shoulder briefly and then back at the guy whose eyes were like daggers. “I’m sorry?”

“Well, you’ve been paying them an awful lot more amount of attention than you’ve been giving us, so I just assumed one of them was your boyfriend.” He shrugged with a mischievous smile.

She could tell his intentions were not sincere, so she played his little game in hopes she could move on quickly. “Uh, yeah sorry, my boyfriend is over there with his friends, so I was checking in during my break. So, do you need a refill or any food before the kitchen closes?” She tucked her head down toward her notepad to deflect his eyes.

“Which one?”

“Hm?” Her eyebrows almost touched the base of her nose with how low she pulled them at his question.

“Which one is your boyfriend?” He nodded towards the group again and rubbed his chin with a sly smile. The other two boys chuckled into their fists at the interaction.

Sadie pulled her head up, getting more annoyed by the second. She looked over her shoulder again and caught Frankies’ eyes who seemed to be fixed on the group. “The one with the hat.” She said, trying to be as casual as possible.

The guy looked back at Frankie whose eyes didn’t leave the table despite his friends engaging in conversation again. Frankie could see the smugness radiating off this guy and didn’t trust to take his eyes off him for a second.

He turned back to give his buddies a smug look and they smiled along with him. “He looks like the jealous type.”

She pulled her lips tight, “Yeah I guess so.” Her uncomfortableness grew by the second. Why do they always have so much shit to say she thought to herself. She thought back to Frankie and the guys and made a mental note to write down that order of pitchers she almost forgot about when she was lost in Frankies brown eyes.

“So uh, he wouldn’t really like this then.” With one swift motion he took Sadie’s right wrist and began to pull her down to sit on his lap. She huffed with shock but before she was able to push herself off him a loud voice thundered from behind.

“Hey! Get your damn hands off her!”

The kid jumped in his skin and pushed her up before looking back to see Frankie standing up beside the booth, the three other men’s attention turned as well but more in shock of Frankies abrupt reaction. The boy threw his hands up near his face, clearly shocked by the reaction of Frankie. He was obviously trying to get some sort of reaction, but he was now fearing he was about to be dragged outside by this furious pit-bull of a man who was baring his teeth.

Sadie turned her shocked look from Frankie back to the guy. She smoothed out her apron and drew her head high. “What he fucking said!” She pointed at Frankie as her voice grew towards the boy. “I’ll get your bills.” She huffed and stormed off towards the bar.

Frankie gave the kid one last look of disgust before Benny had him settled back into his seat.

“Okay down boy it’s fine.” Santiago tried to reassure his friend who was still fuming in his seat. “Well, I’d say you definitely have her attention now, I’ll take care of this. You two just make sure he doesn’t go all bull in a China shop in here alright?” Santiago nodded at the Millers who did their best to calm their friend.

Santiago slipped out of the booth and peeked at Sadie behind the bar. Her back was to them, working on the bills for the pricks at the table he is now approaching. The three boys watched him approach them, settling deep into their chairs. He leaned forward between two of them and rested his hands firmly on the edge of the table.

“Listen, I’m not gonna let me buddy there beat the shit out of you, which yes, he could easily do. But just take this moment as an opportunity to grow, you know, learn something and do better next time. Maybe don’t sexually harass bartenders anymore, or anyone for that matter. And definitely don’t intentionally piss off an ex special ops soldier, got it?” They looked at him with side eyes, fearing they may turn to stone if they made direct eye contact with him. He nodded and pulled his hands away, not before leaning in one last time and whispering, “Oh, and you better fucking tip good.” He winked, and the boys nodded.

Santiago sauntered back to the booth just as Sadie wrapped up her computer work and turned to go back to the table. She grabbed a debit machine and marched over with her head held high. She did her best to ignore the agonizing stir Frankies little outburst had given her, and how badly she wanted to show him how much she appreciated it.

The guys watched as she closed off their bills, giving them icy stares and barely acknowledging their existence. The whole time they creepily snuck a peak at the four men all staring with daggers in their eyes as they waited for the three to leave.

Once they were paid up, they said their meek thanks to Sadie, who responded with a cold, “Yeah whatever.” and made their way out of the bar.

Frankie relaxed a bit once he saw the guys leave, but he relaxed even more when Sadie appeared with a tray carrying two pitchers and a small glass.

“Alright, here’s those two pitchers, on Benny and Frankies tabs.” She said as she settled the pitchers in the middle of the table. “And one,” she grabbed the small glass that seemed to be a rum and coke. “thank you, on the house.” She leaned forward and placed the glass in front of Frankie before making eye contact with him and leaning in to rest a small kiss on his cheek. Frankies eyes fell to her mouth, and he wished she had closed the gap. He smiled and said thanks before she pulled away and went back to the bar.

The men all turned to Frankie, eyes wide at his interaction.

“Buddy, that is what I’m talking about.” Santiago cheered.

Benny and Will also showed their celebration as Frankie took a sip of his new drink.

“Now, I’ve been thinking about your closing move alright? She said she doesn’t have any help to close the bar down right?”

Frankie nodded at Santiago, agreeing with this statement.

“Well, there’s your in. Offer to stay and help her close. You and her alone in the empty bar for half an hour. Talk, make sure you show you’re interested. Graze your hand on her hip when you squeeze past her behind the bar. Stuff like that, and then boom once all the work is done. Close the deal.” He clapped his hands together and leaned forward with excitement. He hasn’t been more focused on a target in years.

Frankie nodded and agreed to this proposition. He sat in silence for a while as the other men talked and thought about how his cheek felt after Sadie kissed it. How it would feel to have that same softness grace his lips. Her hair smelt like lavender when she got that close to him, and he wanted nothing more than to grab the back of her head and lead her to his lips.

The night wore on without incident. Finally, Sadie came to the table with bills in hand and her machine. She started with Santiago, keying in his total and passing the machine to him while she chatted with the others about how sore her feet were from walking all night. Santiago passed the machine back to her and she watched as the receipt filed out. She pulled it from the machine without looking at the content and held it to her chest.

“Alright, moment of truth. Does Santi think I have a great ass?” She indicated to the boys with a nod that she needed a drum roll. The three men kindly obliged and started drumming their fingers on the table, Santiago rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the top of the booth. With a beat she pulled the receipt up to her face and dropped it with an open mouth smile on her face. “He does!”

They all cheered enthusiastically, except for Santiago who waved his hands conceding.

Sadie moved on to Will, and upon pulling his receipt through commented, “Hm, Will is more of a boob guy, good to know.” She smirked at him, and Benny smacked his shoulder with a full body laugh.

“Whoa, whoa that is not fair.” He laughed.

Sadie grinned and started keying in Bennys order. “I’m just kidding you, Willy.” She looked up and winked. He leaned back in his seat with a gapped expression, finding the interaction humorous of course. “I gotta joke a little bit otherwise jobs like this eat you alive.”

They all hummed in response, recalling all the pranks and jokes they used to get into in the service. No matter the circumstances, they still found a way to keep their head straight through some humor.

 Sadie finished up all the bills, thanking Frankie with a gushing smile for his overzealous tip.

“Well, it was really nice to meet you all. I hope to take care of you all again soon.” She smiled and the guys said their thanks and started piling out of the booth.

Santiago patted his friend on back, “Aright buddy this is it. Good luck, I hope it works out however would make you the happiest.”

Frankie gave his friends an assuring nod before doing a quick jog to catch up with Sadie as she moved back to the bar.

“Hey Sadie?”

She turned, surprised and pleased that Frankie wasn’t following his friends out the door. “Hey Frankie, what’s up?”

Frankie rubbed his hands on his faded jeans, trying to calm himself once more. “Are you still closing by yourself tonight?”

“Yeah, unfortunately. The kitchen left an hour ago and the manager and other bartender will be leaving in a few minutes. Why?”

“Well, I uh, I don’t have any place to be, so I was wondering if you wanted some help?” he said cautiously.

She eyed him through squinted lids and looked at him up and down. Worn out baseball hat that probably hasn’t left his head in decades over curly brown hair. A tight grey T-shirt under a loose flannel shirt. Light jeans that probably didn’t start out that way but have been worn in the sun too long and washed too many times. He seemed harmless enough and he’s treated her well so far tonight, in fact so well she had started finding herself walking by him just to ensure he could catch a glimpse of her through the night.

“So, you want to stay late and help me clean, because you have nowhere else to be?” She asked with a pointed look.

He swallowed deep, “Yeah I just thought you would like the help and maybe the company.” He tried his best to sound light, meanwhile his ears with ringing with nervousness.

She took a beat to think once more, “So you’d help me clean and then we would both get to our own beds at a decent time tonight, right?” She emphasized “own”.

He nodded in agreement, “Sure, of course.”

Sadie started back behind the bar again and Frankie followed like a dog chasing a bone. “Alright Fish, you stay put here and once everyone else is gone we’ll get started.” With that she disappeared behind the employee entrance door.

Frankie sat at the bar by himself for 20 minutes, watching as the other customers exited slowly and as the rest of the staff said their goodnights to Sadie and then retreated to the employee entrance. It was 1:15am when she locked the door and closed the shades to the front windows.

She sauntered over to him, her cowboy boots clicking as she walked. She ran her finger from shoulder to shoulder on Frankies back. He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at the sensation. “Let’s get cleaning Mr. Helpful.”

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, they did just that. They cleaned and restocked the bar, all while recounting vacation stories, and childhood memories. Sadie talked about how she had gone into finance right out of high school and found it unfulfilling so she decided to go back to school in her late twenties to do something she could be proud of. Frankie talked of his friendship with the guys and although they had to go through terrible times to all be together, they were all still thankful they had the opportunity because now they have each other.

All the while Frankie kept Santiagos notes tucked away in head. He would graze his hand on hers when she would pass him something. He held her waist in place as he scooted behind her at the bar. He brushed her hair off her face when her hands were in rubber gloves doing dishes. Each time he had a physical interaction with her she felt that familiar burning sensation she had felt when Frankie had yelled at that prick that got handsy with her. She caught herself staring at his lips as he spoke and trying to position herself in a way that they would have to have some sort of physical contact. She couldn’t even understand why she was doing it all. She just wanted him to want her so badly.

Frankie finished his half of the cleaning list and approached Sadie who was at the pool table. She was leaned over wiping down the last part of the wood finished edges. He held his gaze on her ass and admired how plump it looked in her tight jeans. He shook his head to throw the devilish thoughts out of it and met her eyes when she turned to look at him.

“Well, that’s that. Thank you for all the help.” She threw the cloth into a bucket on the floor and leaned against the pool table with her arms crossed.

He took a few steps in and placed his left hand on the pool table beside her, resting some of his weight on it. “It was no problem hermosa. I had fun.” He smiled at her.

She squinted her eyes slightly, “That’s the second time you’ve called me that. What does it mean?”

He looked her up and down shyly, “Beautiful.” He said softly, meeting her eyes with an intense gaze.

She inhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling in an extremely noticeable way. Frankie grinned at this as he checked out her cleavage quickly. She looked down at her feet for a moment, trying to determine the best way to respond to such a compliment. She lifted her head back up at him and asked, “Do you call all your friends beautiful?”

Frankie shrugged, shifting his weight slightly. “No,” he paused “Just you, and Benny of course.” He chuckled.

She rolled her head back with her laugh, “Well I don’t blame you; he is VERY pretty.” She grinned back at him.

“Truthfully though,” he leaned in slightly, trying to gage her physical response. “I’m not sure I still want to be your friend. I think I may want a little more than that.”

Sadie felt herself flush, “Well would I still get the discount on the helicopter rides?” she asked softly, intensifying her gaze.

He leaned in further, staring at her lips as he spoke. “Of course, it also comes with lots of other perks too.”

“Hm, like what?” She tilted her head up, catching a glimpse of him moistening his lips as she spoke.

“Like this.” He leaned in fully and latched his mouth onto hers.

It was a soft kiss, not wanting to read too much into things. She didn’t pull away, but he was still unsure if she was just being friendly. He broke the kiss and pulled his face away a few inches to look at her. She unfolded her arms and grazed one finger along his jaw line.

“That seems like a pretty good perk, but you said there’d be lots right?” She lowered her eyebrows and parted her lips, meeting his gaze.

He smirked and stepped into her, placing his hands on her hips as hers moved around his neck. They both opened their mouths for one another and deepened the kiss. It was hungry and passionate. He ran his hands over the exposed skin on her lower back and moaned at the warmth. Sadie glided her right hand around the curls at the top of Frankies neck and slid her left up and down his chest.

Frankie moved his hands lower to grab her plush thighs and in a swift motion hoisted her up to be seated on the edge of the pool table. She parted her legs for him, and he stood flush with her chest heaving against his.

She pulled away to start planting desperate kisses on his neck and he rubbed his hands on her ass through her tight jeans as she made her way up to swirl her tongue around in his left ear. He moaned at the feeling and her deep breathing in his ear. He ducked his head, and she pulled back so he could slot his mouth on hers again. He pulled her closer, so her aching core was pressed up against his stiff boner in his jeans. She gasped at the sensation of feeling how hard he was, and he revealed in the warmth radiating off her.

Frankie pulled off to start kissing down her neck. He moved the hair off her left shoulder with his hand as he nipped at her supple skin. He made his way down to her shoulder and groaned at how soft she was against his lips, better than he had imagined earlier. He nipped at her and grabbed the thin white strap with his teeth to pull it over and off to hang on her arm. He licked a stripe from the top of her shoulder up her neck and brought his hand up to palm her breast.

Sadie moaned and smiled with her eyes closed. “Okay, okay Frankie.” He pulled his head up to meet her eyes. “I just started here two weeks ago, and while I haven’t had the opportunity to read the employee handbook yet, I am fairly positive there will be something in there along the lines of don’t fuck the customers on the pool table.” He grinned at her and placed a kiss on her forehead. “So, why don’t we just go back to my place?”

He hummed, “I don’t know, didn’t you say something about ending up in our own beds tonight?” He emphasized own as she had done earlier.

She rolled her eyes, “Well I guess I’ve been persuaded otherwise.”

He reached his hand up and pulled the strap of her top back onto her shoulder, grazing his finger down her arm to rest his hand on the edge of the pool table. “Alright, well let’s get going then, because I’ve still got lots of perks to show you.” He popped his eyebrows up and gave her a knowing smile.

The energy between the two was electric as he helped her slide down the pool table back onto the floor. She took his hand and led him to the back to slip out of the employee entrance, locking the door as she left. They walked hand in hand to her red car. Based on the boots and the car, he was beginning to figure out her favourite colour. This theory was confirmed when he slid into her passenger seat and noticed the red fuzzy dice hanging from the rear-view mirror. He smiled to himself; he had fuzzy dice in his truck too.  

The drive to her apartment was quiet but comfortable. They stole glances here and there and nodded along to the radio, each of them growing with excitement for what was to come. Frankie rested his hand on her thigh and rubbed tiny circles on the exposed part of her leg through a hole in her jeans. She silently thanked herself for her choice of pants today as the feeling of his calloused thumb stroking her thigh made her core ache for more. She peeked down at his hands and noticed just how large his fingers were. She snapped her head back up with eyes wide and tried to focus on the lights along the streets.

When they arrived at her apartment, it was after 2am. He followed her up the stairs, not wanting to keep too far of a distance from her as his hands ached to feel her again.

“This is me.” She nodded to the apartment door coming up on their right. She fumbled with her keys as she tried to unlock the door, her nerves getting higher by the second. Finally, the lock clicked, and she pushed the door open. She stepped into her apartment and stood in front of the door holding it open for Frankie.

He nodded and walked into the apartment, looking around as he did. There was a white kitchen with an eat in island. The island was covered in notebooks, textbooks, and pens. He imagined her hunched over working on her assignments and grinned to himself. The rest of the room had a small living area with a bright red couch facing a tv. The walls were decorated with framed floral photos and there were a variety of house plants along the windowsill. He stood near the island as she closed the door and put her keys and purse on the counter by the wall.

Sadie rounded the corner of the island, and he turned his head towards her, wrapping his left arm around her waist and pulling her in. She wrapped her hands around his sides, and he pulled her face into his with his right hand. Planting a desperate kiss to her plush lips. She released her lips from his and slowly brought her hand to his, leading him further into the apartment, into her bedroom.

The room was bright white with a white comforter. There were pops of colour with more floral accents adorned the walls. The makeup vanity had large circular bulbs around a round mirror with makeup scattered along the vanity top. Sadie walked over to the bedside table where a blush pink lamp sat and flicked on the light. Frankie admired how she looked in the dim lighting and rested his hands in his pockets as he watched her sit on the bed and take her boots off. Grunting as she popped the snug boots off her feet. She wiggled her toes at the relief from being on her feet all evening.

She stood up and rounded the bed towards him, he gave her a sheepish grin and brushed her hair off her shoulder before cupping her jaw with his hand.

She beamed up at him, “Hi.” She giggled.

Frankie smirked, “Hey you.” And leaned in planting an open mouth kiss on her.

He started backing her up towards the bed until the back of her knees hit the edge. He peeled his plaid shirt off his shoulders and threw it on the floor behind him. She reached for the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it up over his head, only breaking the kiss to move his shirt past and over his shoulders. He quickly grabbed his hat off his head and shifted it from one hand to the other as he pulled his arms out of his shirt. Placing it back on his head backwards. She ran her hands down his bare chest, stopping to rub her fingers on his treasure trail above his jeans.

The moonlight shone in her window above her bed through the light white curtains. He rubbed his hands along her back until he reached the bottom of her tank top and pulled it over her head. He did quick work to remove her strapless tan bra as well and tossed it aside. Frankie broke away slightly, enough so he could gawk at her supple breasts.

“Fuck, you are so sexy hermosa.” He pressed their bare chests against each other and slowly laid her down on the bed as she scooted backwards so her head was near the pillows.

He hovered above her and broke off the kiss to unbutton her jeans. He slid them down her legs, grabbing her socks as pulled them off. He slowly crawled back up the bed admiring her tan body underneath him. He slid a finger up and down her thigh before grazing it over her entrance atop her lace white panties. He hummed to himself, “Already this wet for me baby?”

“Oh Frankie, I started getting wet for you the minute you took care of those idiots at the bar for me.” She answered, moving her hips slightly to get more pressure from Frankies finger.

“Mmm, yeah? You like it when I take care of you?” She nodded, “You want me to take care of you right now?”

She looked desperate now, the teasing was getting the better of her. “Fuck, yes, Frankie please.”

He took her panties in his hands and yanked them down her legs, the teasing had seemingly stopped and he was going full tilt now.

He dropped down onto the bed and spread her legs with his rough hands, lining his face up with her dripping core, aching for relief. He took one last look at her body illuminated by the lamplight and licked a long stripe between her folds. She moaned in response. He started off so light, just tickling her with his tongue. It made her shiver, feeling his tongue dance around lightly between her thighs. She moved her hands to his head, slightly tugging at the soft curls peeking out under his hat. He continued this slow pace until she felt herself arching her back and reaching behind herself to the headboard.

Sadie suddenly felt a wave of pleasure as her orgasm overtook her and she moaned. Only as she started did he finally start applying pressure, causing her orgasm to linger for far longer than she’s used to. When she came down from her high, he picked up his pace and sucked on her clit until it popped out of his mouth.

“Fuck, Frankie. That was amazing.” She ran her hand over her face and tried to snap back into the moment.

He continued licking her core, “Mm not done with you yet baby.”

Frankie traced his fingers up her thigh before burying two deep in her pussy. She whined at the sudden sensation. He curled his fingers tightly inside her and licked her clit. She couldn’t help but buck her hips up into him as she writhed beneath his face. In and out he pulled his fingers, curling them more and more until she felt the snap in her gut again and flowed into her second orgasm. He pumped her still, letting her ride it out on his face.

When she finally came to a still and stopped moaning his name, he plucked his fingers out and wiped his face with his other hand. He crawled up the bed and met her gaze.

Sadie grabbed his face with her hands and pulled him in for a needy kiss. “How the fuck do you still have pants on?” She asked with a smile as she looked down between them.

Frankie rolled off her and swiftly tugged his pants down with his socks. Leaving him in his tight black Clavin Klein boxer briefs. He began to roll back onto her, “Uh uh, those too Fish.” She pointed at his boxers, and he smiled, rolling back over to pull them away and fling them off the bed. She took a wide look at his size and could feel the dampness pooling between her legs. “Fucking hell Frankie, how did you get the nickname Fish and not- fucking horse with that thing?” She gawked.

He smiled and rolled himself back onto her, “Well I don’t go showing it off or anything. Hey do you have?”

“Oh yeah in that drawer.” She pointed to the nightstand with the lamp on it and he leaned over to pull it open and pluck a condom package out of it. He quickly rolled it on and lined himself up at her entrance.

“You ready baby?” he asked playfully.

She nodded and bit her lip, he leaned down and met her lips with his as he reached his hand down, guiding himself into her.

Her breath hitched and broke the kiss as she felt the stretch of him. She met his eye contact with a wide look as she was overwhelmed by the feeling. He bit his lip and groaned, “You feel so good hermosa.”

He started rocking his hips back and forth slowly, going deeper each time until she was completely filled up. She grabbed his neck to steady herself underneath him as she tried to focus and not be completely tipped over the edge immediately. But she was already so overstimulated by the two orgasms. He picked up his pace and crashed his lips to hers. They made out desperately as he rocked into her, hitting his thighs against her hips. It was all tongue and teeth and moans between them.

“Oh baby, I’m so close.” His words falling from his mouth with barely any air left in his lungs.

She was dancing on the edge of immense pleasure as he gave two final deep thrust and grunted as he filled the condom. The way his cock swelled during his orgasm pushed her over the edge and she came crashing down into another for herself while he slowly rocked his hips, bringing them both down. He collapsed onto her chest and exhaled, trying to catch his breath.

Finally, he rolled off her and laid his forearm on his head as she panted beside him.

“That was,” he started.

“Fucking incredible.” She finished for him.

He smiled and rolled over, giving a loving kiss to her forehead before propping himself up and exiting the room to find the bathroom.

Sadie collected herself enough to ease her tired body under the comforter and turn off the lamp. Frankie came back in and smiled at her snuggled up, still lit up by the moonlight above her. He walked back over to the bed and slid in beside her. She rolled over and rested her head on his chest while his arm found its place behind her.

She drew little circles on his chest as she enjoyed how content the moment was.

“So, do you have any plans tomorrow. Or today I guess.” He chuckled as he looked at the time on his watch.

She grinned, “No I don’t think so.”

“Hm, would you want to hang out?”

“Sure, that’d be nice Frankie.” She smiled to herself as she warmed her face on his chest.

He rubbed her shoulder with his hand, “Anything you got in mind?”

She propped herself up to look at him and he met her eyes. “Well, I have had this evening long dream of going up in a helicopter with a handsome pilot.” She winked.

Frankie gave out a huffed chuckle, “I think I can take care of that for you.”

[androgynousblackbox]

How I Met Your Father. 17 [Appleradio, Radioapple]

How Hell Met Me

"Stuck up arrogant king?" asked Lucifer, tying up his bowtie for him.

After they had finished their plates, Lucifer had come back quickly to the palace in order to get his old clothing. As for the rest of his colors, a sigil on his wrist would do the trick. When pressed once it would keep the ilusion of him being just the same Alastor that everyone knew and pressed two times to undue the spell. It was going to feed off his own magic, just like his shadows, so it wasn't recommended to use it permanently, but with his new powers he should be able to keep it untouched for at least a few weeks.

Alastor didn't really need any help with the bowtie. He had tied it himself countless times before. However, when Lucifer started helping him out to dress, he didn't protest at all. Even through the fabric the touch of Lucifer was warmer than anything on Heaven. It felt like cleansing as he set up every piece of clothing, as if finally he could feel like himself.

"Sketchy as fuck?" asked in return, arching an eyebrow.

Lucifer had tied and untied the black piece on his hand at least three times, getting distracted by other details he wanted to perfect before trying again. He didn't want to lose the contact either.

"At least I said you were good lookin" defended himself with a pout. "You could have say something like oh, he is so beautiful I can barely concentrate around him, that is so annoying of him, or something."

Alastor snorted softly and bended a little to reach his ear.

"But if I said that, it wouldn't be acting anymore, would it?" whispered and when the expected blush came, he took his chance licking the cheek to his heart's contempt. Sensing the flow of the delicious blood right under the skin that now, after so many years, he could bite into if he wanted to.

"Ejem" called Charlie.

Alastor turned to her as Lucifer cleared his throat, finally resolving to finishing the bowtie. Charie looked to a side, a faint blush of her own, as she hold up her phone. Just because she liked seeing both of her parents alive and well, didn't mean she had to like them acting like that with her in the same space.

Lucifer was appropriately embarrassed to suddenly be reminded they weren't the only two people in hell. Alastor hadn't forgotten, but couldn't bother to pretend he cared too much.

"Um, I called Vaggie already to set up a meeting on the lobby. Everyone is waiting. Are you ready, dad?"

Alastor touched the sigil once and conjured his cane mid air to stomp with it the ground.

"How do I look?" asked to Lucifer, posing a little with his hand over the front of his red shirt.

Lucifer smiled and pulled out his wing to reach his lips, holding his cheek briefly to leave a soft and earnest kiss.

"Perfect" said, coming down and snapping his fingers. His comfy shirt and pants instantly changing into his usual outfit, minus the jacket and his hat. Alastor made a mental note to ask him how to do that for himself, it would certainly save him some time. Lucifer rubbed his hand together and brush them over his hair, some sparks of gold magic blinking between the strands for a second before they dissapear, finishing the look. He didn't asked how he looked, but if he did, Alastor would have to say he was dazzling as always. "We are ready, duckling."

Charlie nodded, going to the door for them as they followed behind. On the hallway, Charlie grabbed the sleeve of Alastor as if to make sure he wouldn't get lost on his way to the elevator. So painfully similar as to when she was a little kid dragging him to play with her that Alastor wouldn't dream of breaking her ilusion. Once inside, she wrapped her arms around the middle of Alastor without offering any reason or excuse. Alastor didn't ask for it either, petting her head pleasantly until the floor stopped moving and the door opened up on their own.

"I love you, dad" said against his side. Alastor hummed and kissed her crown, which made Charlie to giggle gently. "Come on."

When they came out, Alastor felt the hand of Lucifer on his waist, walking close to him. The hand laid there comfortably, almost possesive. Alastor pretended he didn't notice or cared, but it was comforting to have that warmth on that point. When they reached a glass door, Charlie pulled out her head through it making a gesture for them to wait a moment.

"Hey, everyone!" said Charlie. "I have kind of a big surprise to announce. I don't really know how else to prepare any of you for this so, here we go!" she sighed, opening the door fully and taking the sleeve of Alastor to pull him with her. "Look who came back from the death!"

"Alive and better than ever!" added Lucifer, making pop up confetti and sparkles out of his hand in front of Alastor, whose only reaction was a blank stare. "Isn't that great?"

This was the family he gave up Heave for. This is what he would have to get used to again.

"Holy shit" said Angel, as Pentious stand up from the couch and Husk recoiled in the couch.

Cherri, sat down in the floor near Angel, had her mouth left open. She too had seen the dead body and assisted to the funeral in Cannibal Town to pay her respect, not to mention pass in front of the memorial portrait on the entrance every day. The only one who didn't looked as shocked was Vaggie, but she was still surprised to actually see him there with her own eye.

"Well…" started Alastor when suddenly his whole head was covered by a tight grip, the smell of desinfectant being an obvious give away of what happened. He had no idea from where she came from. "Hello, Niffty. It's nice to see you again too."

"Scary pretty boy is pretty and scary, but not the same" said Niffty, her voice muffled as coming from between his hair that she was nuzzling. "There is no music when you are not here, so is very silent all the time and I didn't like it."

"I see" sighed Alastor, who couldn't actually see because of her puffy skirt. "I am sorry to hear that, dear."

"I don't want you to go away again, sir."

Alastor palped near where the voice came from, where he assumed was her head, and patted her reassuringly.

"I am not going anywhere, dear. You can count on that."

Niffty made a little groan and finally moved, grabbing to the front of his jacket to look at him. Her big eye still looked sad.

"Really?"

Alastor nodded, smiling bigger. If he didn't already had Charlie, Niffty would have been the closest to a daughter he could have. She certainly had the familiar bloodlust down already.

"I give you my word. Cross my heart and hope to die" said cheekily and Niffy giggle a little. He took her easily on her hands, putting her gently on the ground again"I suppose everyone has a lot of questions. I am willing to answer all to the best of my capacity."

"I have one" said Husk, glaring at him with his teeth barren. The hair of his shoulders and back were standing straight. "What the actual fuck are you doing here? We all saw your dead body and now you strot here like nothing happen. Was that some kind of sick fucking trick you pulled on all of us?"

"Uncle, please" said Charlie, standing in front of Alastor. When seeing her, Husk's expression did soften a bit, but his ears were still pulled back and his tail was swipping the floor from side to side, as if ready for a fight. "Dad had nothing to do with what happened to him. He didn't intend any of that to happen. It was only last night that he was able to come back home."

"Back from where?" asked Angel before Husk had the opportunity to do it. "Back from double hell?"

"Oh, I would say that, indeed. They probably have a different opinion than me, though" said Alastor, vanishing in shadows and materializing back to be in front of everyone. He put his hand on his back as a teacher delivering the right answer to a question that all of them were set to fail, enjoying the effect of anticipation before he spoke. Husk hissed, taking a step back. "They called it heaven instead. I was the first success of our dear manager Charlie and I got out as soon at the first chance I got."

"Bullshit" immediately said Husk. "You, in heaven? Now that is some sick joke if I ever heard one."

Alastor was about to pull out his wings again, let that be proof enough, when Lucifer jumped out first.

"No, it's true" said, going to stand close to Alastor. "He summoned me from Heaven so I could take him out of there and bring him back. I would never confuse that place for anything else."

"Wait, for real?" asked Cherri. "That means you have wings and stuff now?"

"Only wings" pointed out Alastor, tenshing his jaw. "I am not showing them off, so you will have to take the word of Lucifer or Charlie for their existance."

"Why?" continued Pentious, after Charlie confirmed with a firm nod.

Alastor stared at them, narrowing his eyes.

"Is that really the most pressing question right now? Did any of you heard? Redemption as Charlie proposed is possible."

"Okay, but how?" said Angel, shaking his head. "No offense, Smiley, glad you are back and all, but you aren't exactly the poster boy of good behavior so this is only the more confusing for us."

"Nobody told me either why I was there" recognized Alastor with a shrug. "Apparently dying to protect others counted, even if you only intended to take a break to come back and keep killing" He sighed, squeezing his brow between his finger. "I am afraid that any question about how or why Heaven operates the way they do are out of my knowledge. I was just told to be part of Heaven without any reason for it."

"And then you jusst… came back?" asked Pentious, as if the idea didn't made any sense. In a way Alastor could understand. He was one of the very few souls who was hoping to get that opportunity himself. "You… you had the chance to go to Heaven and went back to hell" He thought about it for a moment longer. "No, actually, sscratch that. I believe that coming from you. I can't picture the radio demon just liking Heaven."

At least he knew that.

"How was it like?" Cherri hugged her legs, attentive.

"Awful. Disgusting. Vile. Repulsive. Painfully boring, just to name a few characteristics" Alastor sneared. "For me at least, who had no choice. If you actually want to go there, you are probably going to be fine."

"So that is it then?" asked Angel, looking now between Charlie and Alastor. "Just do whatever the hell you want, die for someone else and that is your ticket? The fuck kind of bullshit is that? Why bother doing anything then?"

"Th-that was just the case for dad" added Charlie, correctly assuming that Angel was starting to get upset at the prospect that he had kept clean for nothing. That all of their hard work didn't really had an effect on whether they ended up in Heaven or not. "We don't really know. Heaven doesn't know either what does make someone end up there."

"That is real comforting, Sweet Cheeks" said Angel, sinking himself in the sofa with two arms crossed. "We are basically back on square one then."

"I disagree" Alastor reclined his weight on his staff. "All this time I thought you were a bunch of hopeless souls that are never going to seek any chance in your lives. Well meaning and full with good intentions, but what is the road to hell paved with again? I never believed any of this could actually change anything in hell" added, making a gesture for all of the hotel, before turning to Charlie. "I was only here because you were here, little fawn, no other reason. But now that I know for an unquestionable fact that it can be done? Well, my fellow sinners, then there might be hope after all. And what is hope if not the last thing to lose?"

Everyone stared at him in silence, trying to process the radio demon of all people in hell being the one talking about hope. The word itself sounded foreign in his mouth. Alastor was aware of how ill fitted that kinda of speech was for him. He was expecting if anything that would make it more impactful, but it seemed to have gained the opposite effect.

"Are we ssure thiss iss the ssame Alasstor?"

"Very well. How about this?" said Alastor instead, sharpening his smile like a butcher his best knife. "If any of you gives up on the efforts of my daughter, I will slaughter you all myself to see if you reach Heaven. We can always experiment and see what happens. Is that better?"

A weird sense of relief washed the room, before they all started voicing their agreement to keep trying anyway. Everyone with the exception of Husk, who was walking away towards another set of doors, away from his bar. Charlie didn't look particularly happy with this development, but couldn't argue with the results either.

As more questions piled on and Charlie was trying to answer with what she knew, Alastor looked over at Lucifer and made a gesture for Husk, just as the winged cat was already getting out. Lucifer nodded, although his face said clearly he didn't like losing sight of him. Alastor took his hand to leave a piece of his shadows inside his palm, before dematerializing right there to go after Husk. That at least would let Lucifer know that he haven't died again.

His new surge of energy made it so much easier to hear the steps of his target walking to the backyard and he made sure to appear in front, at a good distance to not ennerve him.

It didn't do much of a difference.

"Fuck!" yelled Husk, jumping back. He took a hand to his heart as his chest kept moving quickly. "What the fuck? I can't take a fucking walk outside now that you are back? The deal is done. You have no power over me and I don't you owe shit."

"I am aware" said Alastor, as calm as ever.

Husk looked at him up and down, trying to predict what he was going to do now. The lack of any tentacles or other shadows under his feet did not calmed him down. He lifted his arms, just in case.

"You can threaten all you like. I am not giving up my soul ever again."

"Understandable."

Husk hissed.

"Well? What are you waiting for then?"

Alastor looked up to the blood red sky, taking a deep breath. This wasn't any easier for him to say as it would be for Husk to hear it.

"I came here to thank you" let out, the words almost making him cringe at himself. Husk stared at him as if he had just spoken gibberish. Alastor kept going anyway, looking to the bowtie of the winged demon instead of his eyes. "Lucifer told me how things were while I was gone. You and the others were there for him and Charlie when I couldn't. Lucifer said that without your support the hotel wouldn't have come out like it did. You had no obligation to do any of that and yet you did." He did finally looked up and Husk flinched, not expecting the intensity of those eyes. "Because of that, I owe you. You can ask whatever you want of me and it's yours. It's the least I could do. I am not an ungrateful man."

Husk's shoulders finally relaxed, confusion now replacing fear as he continued to observe him, realizing a second too late that Alastor was talking without his filter. There was no way he haven't spend all those years under Alastor to not know what that meant.

"Man, fuck off" said, shaking his head. "I stuck around because I wanted to, not because of you. You can shove that favor up your ass if you want. I don't need shit from you."

"As you wish" Alastor shrugged, walking past Husk back to the hotel. Husk even then kept his distance, moving away from him. "The offer stands. I think it's fair for you to know that I can do a lot more than I could do before, Husk. That is the only one good thing the whole ordeal with Heaven has brough me."

Husk inhaled through his nose, a bitter snort.

"I don't care. I still can't believe they let you in."

"It doesn't have to be for you" added Alastor, already reaching the stairs back to the doors. "Just about anything you think is worth asking."

Alastor already was grabbing the handle when he heard Husk moving closer.

"Wait."

Alastor turned. Better to get this business done with. He hated having to be in debt with anyone.

"I am listening."

Ten minutes later, when Alastor came inside the hotel again, Lucifer pretended to be admiring a vase nearby.

"Oh, hey, Al!" greeted Lucifer, as if he had just realized he was coming and wasn't keeping track of him through the windows. "I was just seeing all these poor plants already. They need a little bit of new life into them, don't you think?"

As he said those words, he extended his hand over the demonic flowers with a golden glow, making them regain their red color and the shine over the eyes at the center.

"I can feel the proximity of my own shadow, you know" said Alastor, calling the dark energy back from the still closed fist of Lucifer. He came close to Lucifer and rubbed his shoulder. "See? Not dead. More than usual at least."

"I… I know" Lucifer swallowed and scratched his neck. "I just… sorry."

Alastor thought at least this time he hadn't called upon his collar. That would have been one awkward conversation to have outside. He considered that an improvement.

"If you are so eager to keep tabs on me, would you like to accompany me to do a small errand into the City?"

"You just came back and already have an errand?" asked Lucifer, turning to him. "Are you sure you don't want to just relax for today? You did went through a lot, babe."

"Oh, trust me, my dear, getting back into the swing of things in Hell is my idea of relaxation after Heaven" He looked over through the glass doors as Husk was sitting under a dead tree, probably licking his own arms to sooth any lingering doubt. It was hard to say since at the distance it was a blurry black spot with red. "Besides, the sooner I finish with this the better."

"If you say so" Lucifer also looked outside for a moment. "Did you managed to talk with Husk? Is he okay?"

Alastor arched an eyebrow.

"Careful, my love. I might start getting ideas if you are so concerned with another man's wellbeing."

"If that man is your daughter's uncle, you should be concerned too" Lucifer refused to take the bait for the distraction, rolling his eyes. So many years togehter didn't went in vain. "Just a yes or no question, Al."

"Then yes and maybe yes."

"What does that mean?"

"It all depends on how quickly can we finish" If it were for him, he would do it all by himself, but him still having to get a good grasp of his powers and Lucifer needing to be around him for the moment, it was inevitable. "I can explain on the way."

Vox was having a good day. Not all of his days were good, even after announcing the best news in decades about the death of a certain annoying deer demon. That high had lasted him for an entire month before the usual wearingess of everyday life came back with a vengeance. His work wasn't easy, but then again, it was a job that he loved to do. On his most stressful times at least he could comfort himself knowing that Alastor was gone for good, but on that day he hadn't even thought about that at all. Why would he need to when the ratings were good, his coffee came out exactly as he wanted it to and he had a bunch of new content ready to pull out for the rest of the day? Val had even been more calm than usual, keeping himself busy with a whole franchise that was due to come out next month.

All those good feelings flew out of the window as soon he opened up the doors to his studio. Alastor, or something that looked to be Alastor at least, was looking over the sizes of the platform where his chair was at.

"Why does this place need to be so big?"

Only then he realized that the aparition wasn't alone either. The tiny king that finally had come out to face the press instead of his daughter was at his side, hands behind his back as he contemplated down the platform. That didn't made any sense. Why would he be hallucinating about the king being there?

"How else is he going to contain all that ego, dear?"

That voice almost send him directly into another forceful blue screen. He didn't, but the hand that was gripping his perfect cup of coffee suddenly lost strenght and the mug shattered against the floor. Some portion of the hot coffe even splattered against his leg.

"Dear."

The king stared at him and pronounced one single word:

"Freeze."

Vox's entire body stayed still, one leg slightly up the air as he assessed the damage on his pants. His eyes concentrated on Alastor, wondering if maybe he was the one doing it somehow. Everything was stuck in place, like he had been drowned on gold and let it harden on top.

That, more than anything, told him that this was definitely not a dream.

He could still move his eyes, so he focused the camera inside his head to Alastor's face, searching the security footage. But there was no recognition from the entire system. It was like those two had just appeared in the middle of his studio out of thin air.

"Disconnect from external sources." continued the king, just as Alastor was taking a couple of steps to reach his chair and sit on there. Vox suddenly couldn't get anything out of the system. He couldn't call anyone or text. It was all message errors coming back, leaving him entirely to the reality of whatever was happening there. Alastor's smile was the same as always as he reclined, relax and comfortable. "Step closer."

His legs started moving on their own, his arms following with the same motions as if he was taking a normal stroll back to work. The king, without taking his eyes out of him, walked likewise at the side of the chair and tilted his head.

"Kneel."

His legs buckles up under him, making his knees to impact harshly on the floor. He gained control of his arms again, but now he was stuck in that place. He looked at the two intruders, his own eyes still focusing more in Alastor as he desperately tried to understand why did he looked fine. His drones had captured the moment in which Lucifer appeared through a portal with the dead body of Alastor, his neck sliced so nicely that the blood had tainted all of his front and back. He even screenshotted and put on his personal folder to see whenever he felt down about anything. That happened, he was sure and more of that was when this same king announced it to the rest of Hell. No illusion could be that convincing.

How, how, how. how.

"Your Majesty…" said, still trying and failing to lift his legs. Not even his feet would move. He was talking to the king, because that was the more immediate and concerning threat, but still keeping watch on Alastor. The Radio Demon tilted his head slightly, amused for his attempt at pretending he wasn't there. "What an honor to have you visiting us in the tower. To what, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Oh, don't mind me" said Lucifer, finally using his normal voice. "I just came for support. It's him you have to listen to."

Without another him in the room to adress, Vox directly finally his screen towards the one occupying his chair as if it always belonged to him.

"Hello, Vox" his voice practically purred. "I imagine it must be surprising to see me after all this time."

"Your stupid friends in Cannibal Town made a whole service for you" Vox pointed out, trying to see if it was an hologram projecting from somewhere, but he couldn't reach none of his other cameras around and the only one working was on his head. He pulled out footage of the funeral to see and definitely, the Cannibal Overlord Alastor was such good friends with was covered in a black veil to hide her distress. "If this is some sort of joke, it's a pretty fucked up one."

"No joke at all" Alastor reclined on the air, joining his hands together on his lap. "Unfortunately I had to pass through that whole ordeal to look for something better."

"What ordeal? Being dead again after losing a battle?" Vox said it hoping that Alastor was going to contradict him and explain himself, say that no, he was somewhere other place and everyone assumed his death.

But he should have known that Alastor wasn't going to do him that favor.

"Exactly" said Alastor as his antler grew bigger. His entire studio was enveloped in pure dark shadows, down to the floor he was against until it looked like they were all three of them floating in space. Even in the darkeness he could distinguish shapes and forms still moving, screams of tortured souls seeming to come from every corner all at once. Alastor stand up from the chair as a ring of green fire rised up around them. When he looked up again, the eyes of Alastor was two glowing green circles floating on the black hones that were his eye sockets. His voice was crackling like the fire, small fluctuation in the volume with each spark. "I might had a lost, but what I have gained in return I would say was more than worth it."

Vox's magic was never the most receptive one to other's people energy, and yet, he knew that this way beyond anything he had seen before. In all the years he had known about Alastor, he had never felt that icy sensation wrapping itself around his chest at the sudden realization of how out of his league he was. How vulnerable and defenseless he was from the moment he opened up the doors.

He looked over at Lucifer, but the king was just calmly looking back at him, not impressed or shocked by the display of horror, as if he was just waiting patiently for this to be over. Somehow that made it worse.

Alastor turned his head to the side, the cracking of his neck bringing back Vox's attention to him. After seeing the fear properly displayed on his face, Alastor slowly came back to a more normal forme. Red eyes almost twinkled with the fun of a kid burning ants with a magnifying glass.

"So you understand now! Excelent, that makes things a little bit easier" He casually turned and sat down again. The sounds of pain and sorrows were toned down, still ever present, as to not let him miss a single word of what Alastor said. "We can talk about what exactly you are going to tell your audience then. First, I will give you the privilege of announcing that I am back from the dead. I know, very generous of me. No need to thank me. You can even talk about this very meeting that we are having right now if you want. None of the details about how it happened or what I was doing during these five months are for you to care or know about. I would like to keep some sense of mystery at least. Are you following thus far?"

Vox realized he was trembling when he forced his head to nod. Alastor could have pulled a gun full of angelic bullets and it wouldn't have been half as terrifying. Something in the dark brushed against his hand and he pulled it closer.

"I want to hear you say it, Vox" said Alastor, his smile ever growing to the point his mouth wasn't moving as he spoke. "Say it."

Vox wheezed, as if he had forgotten to breath for a moment.

"I follow you" said. The ground under his legs seemed to be changing, pulsating. He thought that any moment now it was going to open up to some mouth and swallow him home. That would fit so perfectly with Alastor's style that it was almost funny. "You came back from the dead. With more power. Nobody will know why. You just did."

"Very good!" Alastor chuckled to himself, supporting his chin on his hand over the armrest. "Now to the second issue, the reason why I came back. You can add a little more flare to it if you want, but the short version of it is that I came to claim my new role in hell." At those words, even the king finally looked over at Alastor with a slight frown. Alastor winked an eye at him before he continued: "I am going to become the first ever King of Overlords here in hell. All other overlords are free to come and try me, and I will be ever so glad to take their souls once I devour theirs. I count with the full approval of the king of hell himself, isn't that right?"

"I mean" Lucifer said, shrugging. "Sure, why not."

Alastor almost rolled his eyes, as if he was expecting a more enthusiastic response than that, but didn't let that to water down his good humor.

"And as the new King of Overlords" he followed through, "I will overseas over the works of all others Overlord. That means that if any of them says a word I don't like, repeat a word I didn't approve or do anything at all that could bother me, they will be stripped off their power if I don't decide to kill them directly, whichever I think is more appropriate in each case. That very much includes you, Vox, so I hope you know to keep it professional whenever it come to report about me or the hotel I am working at."

"What?" Vox for the first time blinked out of his terrified state, looking confused. "Are you… are you serious? Are you still going to be working in that stupid idea? Why?"

At that, a tentacles wrapped itself around his chest, trapping his arms at his side. The pressure wasn't enough to start making his rib cage start to give, but it could, it very easily could. Normally at that point he would try to transfer his consciousness to any other device just in case, but didn't had that option there.

"What did we say about the details, Vox?"

The tentacles released him just enough to let him gather enough air to breath.

"They… they don't matter."

"No, you don't matter enough to know about them. There is a difference" Alastor smiled, amused. "You can also announce that the hotel Charlie Morningstar is managing is officially under the protection of the King of the Overlords. If anyone ever comes to damage any of those walls or touch a single hair from any of it's residents anywhere close to that property, they won't have enough time to feel any satisfaction from it before I had my own fun with their remains. Got all of that?"

"Y-yes."

"Very well" Alastor snapped his fingers and all the shadows dissapeared, along with the tentacles. The floor came back to be solid and the blue of all of his screen was almost as shiny as neon as they came. "You have been exceptionally receptive, Vox. I appreciate that. Who knew that all someone needed in order to get you to listen was to be more persuasive?"

Vox moved to stand up. It was useless, of course, because it wasn't the magic of Alastor retaining him there.

Alastor saw his attempt and hummed content with himself as he rose from the chair, conjuring his staff to shuffle it in front of him.

"You can make the announcement this afternoon. I have other things I want to put in order before then. How you feel about 5:00 pm exactly? Until then you can keep going with whatever mindless entertainment you were doing as usual."

Vox let his arms slump, knowing there was no other choice there. He had a segment scheduled for that timeslot, but what did it matter now?

"Fine."

Alastor nodded his head. He turned to the king and made a small gesture towards him. Lucifer looked over at Vox, his eyes turning to red for a brief moment as the words came out.

"You are free."

Suddenly the undefinable pressure was gone. Vox moved first his feet to test it out and them quickly stand up, almmost fumbling with his own feet before he could take a step back. His connections were still all down.

"Nice talk, my good man!" said Alastor, walking casually past him. The king followed, not even throwing him a second glance. Vox turned around, slowly making his way to his chair to control it manually and press the emergency button. He was under no ilusion that any of his defenses could do anything against the king of hell himself, but at least would alert everyone else on the tower that there was a intruder and maybe distract them enough.

"Ah! I was forgetting something else I wanted to show you" Alastor stopped in his tracks and walked a few steps to stand next to the king, taking his chin gently with one finger. Lucifer frowned a little at the gesture, but gave a small nod in response to a silent question.

Vox was still walking backwards when Alastor bended to kiss the king. He lose his footing and end up in the ground as Lucifer lifted a hand to hold the back of Alastor's neck. That alone could have been enough to make him sick, but the look that Alastor had for the king on the brief moment when they stopped kissing gave him the feral desire of eat his chair, one bite at a time. He had never seen him look at nothing or anyone like that.

Lucifer caressed the cheek of the radio demon and it was so disgustingly intimate that it was almost like he was the one introding there. That weird, unexpected moment, at least for him, lasted just a second before Lucifer returned his red eyes back at him.

"If you recorded any of that, delete it right now."

Vox already knew that resisting was not going to work, but he still lift up his hand to his head in horror as he could feel the footage he got going straight to the shredder. When he lifted up his vision again, Alastor was hugging onto the king of hell and keeping him closer to himself as his shadows consumed the both of them. Before they dissapeared, Alastor send him a tiny wink and that, that is what end up making him go blue screen, losing control of his body.

--

Valentino was having a stressful day. Five scenes had to be ready for editing for that day alone and it was like nobody was putting their backbone as much as they should have.

"Again, carajo! From the top to the bottom. On the two senses" ordered to the camera, so they knew who to follow more closely and also to redue the whole scene. The two actors on the school uniforms fixed themselves a little as the camera man prepared to make the signal.

When the door to his studio opened up, he turned around, ready to bark at whoever was interrupting that they could go fuck themselves. But the words dissolved into his mouth at the sight of who it was. Or who they pretended to be, because it was impossible to be the real deal. Vox made him watch the footage enough times to be convinced of that. The only thing new was the white snake around his neck, but otherwise he hardly could forget that tacky suit.

"Nice costume, guapo, but we aren't doing that kind of works today" said, regaining his composure. "If you can kidnly take your skinny ass out of here, I would like that."

The red demon laughed accompanied by radio sounds that made Valentino stare from his seat. He stand up slowly as Alastor strode inside the studio like he was on his own home.

"Oh, Valentino, has your sight gone even worse than it was since the last time I saw you? Don't you recognize an old friend when you have it in front of you?"

Valentino stand up, cigarrete in hand. If that fucker thought he could intimate him so easily, he had another thing coming.

"I see your personality still matches the outside" said with a smile, wondering why the fuck Vox wasn't doing anything about this. He had installed how many cameras around his studio and the towers, but this was the one time he wasn't paying attention? Around them, he could hear the rest of the crew whispering. "Alastor, how rude of me. How you been since crawling out of the grave? Was it nice? Was it comfy? Maybe you should get back to it."

"It was delightful. Certainly more than whatever disgusting trash you are doing here, of course!" Alastor laughed, smiling wider when Valentino huffed.

"You never could appreciate a damn thing that wasn't your own stupid ass" spat. "And people call me narcissist. At least I have fun while doing it."

"As much is always fun to exchange quips with you, Valentino, I didn't came for this. Would you mind leaving the studio for us alone?" said to the rest of the crew. Since none of them moved and Valentino didn't gave any indication they could listen to him, they just stayed on their place. "I wasn't asking."

Just about as he finished his phrase, a bunch of tentacles sprout of a bunch of shadows that invaded the studio. Each of them took someone and throw them out of the door that Alastor kept open. A couple of assistant tried to run, leaving the marks of their claws on the floor as they were being thrown out, knocking cameras, lights and props all over until they were the two only ones standing.

"¿Qué mierda has hecho?" Valentino looked around in horror at his set, his perfect good school set that had stayed with him during three very succesful movies and it's sequels. He sneared at Alastor casually closing the door behind him. "Do you have any fucking idea how much this is putting us behind schedule, cabrón."

"No hablo español" said Alastor with a big smile, "but if I did, I would tell you not to worry about any of that right now. Don't bother expecting for Vox" added, noticing the glance that Valentino threw to one of the cameras. "He is indisposed for the moment. Don't worry, he will be perfectly fine after another reset. You, on the other hand, I can't say the same thing about."

"I have nothing to talk to you" Valentino started walking towards one of his drawer, when one of the tentacles grabbed him by the waist and elevated him on the air. Just by touching that slimey dark texture he already knew something was different. A demon like him would never forget the tentacles that had touched him. "Well, well, someone got some extra juice on him. If you wanted to brag about what you can do now, you should have told me, Al. I would have gotten some girls very enthusiastic about this exact kind of things just for you. Or you prefer boys? Maybe both?"

The snake around Alastor's neck started hissing in his direction and Alastor chuckled, scratching under the chin of the animal.

"I didn't came for none of that" said, barely making a gesture with his hand to throw Valentino across the room. When the moth demon landed harshly on his side, another tentacles grabbed him by the ankled and hang him on the air. "I came for Angel Dust."

Valentino let out a laugh. Somewhere on his head was bleeding, making it drip into the floor. His heart shapped glasses were gone off his face, forcing him to squint to follow Alastor.

"Well, fuck me, papi, it seems you have bad timing. He doesn't work today."

"Oh, I know" Alastor lowered Valentino enough to be on eye level. "Nullify his contract and I will be out of your… non existent hair immediately."

"Ah, I see. So you are the reason why he is not coming here so much, huh? You two have been cozy in that stupid hotel of the Morningstar brat? Did you enjoy fucking that ass, Al? You don't have to be jelous because he comes to be fucked by bigger men than you. That is just a job, nothing personal" Valentino growled, reaching his hand for him, only for Alastor to slam him against the floor against before elevating him in the air. Despite the hit he had just taken, Valentino just laughed with whatever air he could get. "Fuck, that ass really has you down bad, don't you?"

"Charming as usual" Alastor's sarcasm dripped like petrolium out of his lips. "I would actually prefer to be in another place right now than deal with you. Just destroy his contract or else we both are going to waste a lot of time here."

Valentino didn't answered, taking a deep breath. He balanced his body from the ankle that was grabbed and spit a red puff smoke all over the face of Alastor, laughing to himself until he noticed that Alastor just swatted it with a expression of mild annoyance in his face. His pupils remained the saim, the same as if he was breathing the same air of hell rather than his fermons. In the past even Alastor could be affected by them, that is why the radio demon always kept his distance. Why wasn't it working anymore? Not even his stupid snake seemed to react in any way.

"Hard way it is" decided Alastor.

Two hours laters, Alastor had grabbed a towell from the bathroom to clean up the blood on his face and hands. He could have done it all with his tentacles, but where was the fun in that?

"You have to admit, he lasted a lot" commented Lucifer on his snake form, his white scales turned a bright red. "I thought he would give up when you crushed his foot."

Alastor nodded, untangling him from his neck to give him a quick wash on the sink. The water immediately turned red as Lucifer wiggled, rolling around between his hands to every portion of him got the water. Once he was all cleaned, he shook himself like a dog and crawled over the arm of Alastor to reach his head, planting himself like a living crown.

"Valentino was always a tough one" recognized, now cleaning up his hand with a bar of soap nearby. Lucifer at least had already clean up his suit and it was spotless, like usual. "Pity all that will went towards the worst goals imaginable."

"That is everyone in hell, babe" pointed out Lucifer, resting his head between the black antlers.

"You got a point, love."

"He did accept once you told him you were coming to destroy Vox" noted Lucifer, as if that fact still impressed him. Alastor made a neutral hum in response. It wasn't like it was any secret for anyone who knew those two what kind of attachment they had to each other. "Mmm, you know. We should probably not tell Charlie about this."

"Not a single word" Alastor cleaned up some splatters on his cheek too using his own sleeve. He wasn't about to put anything on that place near his face. "Hopefully she will appreciate Angel's freedom regardless."

Lucifer slithered his head down, bomping his snout gently against his temple as it were a kiss.

"I know you didn't do it because you care about Angel, but I want you to know I am proud of you anyway."

"Shut up."

Alastor looked down, splashing more water on his face that suddenly felt warmer than before.

From outside the bathroom, an alarm started ringing. The sound of multiple shutters closing over the windows could be heard. Either Vox had finally come to their senses or someone else had alerted about their presence. Squeads of security guards would come any time to pick what was left of Valentino and look for them.

"Time to go, dear" said Alastor.

"Where did you say you wanted to go after this?"

--

In the park of Cannibal Town there were always decorative statues, not about any one particular cannibal or being. Just families of bronze and stone to incite more families to spend time on the same space. The only difference was a bust smiling close to the sign welcoming visitant to that part of the city.

Alastor read the plaque underneath. The Radio Demon, friend of cannibals. Alastor Abaddon.

"I really consider it having your real name" commented Lucifer, resting around his neck. The snake sighed. "You weren't here, so what is the point of the secret, right? But Charlie was already having a hard enough time with everyone wanting to know more about the extermination or her hotel, so I didn't want to pile more on top of that by saying by the way, here is her secret other father."

"Thank you" commented Alastor, observing his own face closer. "It's remarkably well done. Who had the idea?"

"Rosie mentioned she wanted to have something to remember you by after the service. I think it was Charlie who suggested the bust actually. I had it made and them gifted it to the Town as a token of gratitude for their participation" Lucifer nuzzled against his neck, his longue flicker against the jaw of Alastor. "I am sure she will be glad to see you."

Alastor nodded, fixing up his suit even thought there was no need whatsoever. This was the only reason he told Vox to put off the announcement for a few hours. After he was gone, Rosie had been keeping in contact with Charlie to check on her regularly. The least she deserved was to be told directly about what happened instead of going with whatevere filtered version came out from the teleivision.

The town itself seemed to come back to normal, but Alastor didn't miss the way some black eyes were following his movements and started murmuring. Alastor pretended as if he didn't notice as he made his way to the Emporium of Rosie, but just as he was about to open the door it burst open for the owner.

"Oh" said Rosie, grabbing his face. She frowned deeply, pulling on his cheeks as if to pull a mask. When that didn't gave her anything, she inspected his hair, thankfully not pulling on that one as hard. "I heard a handsome devil like my good friend Alastor was walking around."

"So soon?" said Alastor, making his ear move just for her to see. "I have been barely out for a few hours."

"I know everything" Rosie made a dismissive hand gesture, swatting away any doubt on her capacity to get the latest gossip.

She tentatively went to touch his antlers, but at that point she didn't need it anymore. She let her hand slip from the top of his head to his cheek, looking into his eyes.

"Illusion spell" said under her breath. Alastor blinked. How the hell did she know that? She haven't even seen his sleeves, she shouldn't have been able to notice the sigil. "But those are familiar eyes all the same. Alright" said, crossing her arms at last. "Tell me one thing that only Alastor would know."

Alastor didn't even had to think about it. Getting closer to her and putting his hand to cover his mouth, he whispered into her ear in such a low voice that even Lucifer couldn't quite catch it.

"My husband makes me happy, just like my little fawn Charlie."

"Awww!" cooed Rosie, before realizing that is what she asked and she squealed, hugging him by the neck. Lucifer smile went up to Alastor's head, making Rosie to frown at his presence, but otherwise more concentrated on holding both hands of Alastor. "Come inside, sweetie, come inside right now!"

Inside of her emporium, Rosie put in charge of attending the clients to some of her employees and dragged Alastor to the back to sit him down on her couch as she occupied the seat at the side.

"First things first" said Rosie, pointing above his head. "Who is this little fellow coming with you?"

"Hi, Rosie" said Lucifer, waving with the extreme of his tail.

Rosie giggled softly.

"Should have imagined it. It's nice to see you again, your Majesty."

"Likewise. The store is looking pretty good!"

Rosie nodded, bringing two cups of tea and opening a box full of lady fingers.

"I imagine if you came like that, you want to be discreet" she commented, setting up the small table as Lucifer made his way down Alastor's arm, going for the box.

"Yes, but I don't want to interrumpt or anything. Just pretend I am not here."

"With your permission, your Majesty" Rosie bowed slightly her head and then grabbed the hand of Alastor. "Okay, now that is settled, do tell me everything. I want to hear a very good explanation for what happened!" insisted, more excited with having him there, unharmed and alive, than anything else.

How could Alastor ever refuse her with a welcome such as that one? Between cups of tea, he told him the most abridged version of everything he could without going too deep into anything. When it came to the part of Lucifer being summoned to take him out of Heaven, he still went with the deal rather than contract explanation. Rosie's lip pursed for a second, doubtful, but didn't ask further question once he said in a lighhearted tone that falling was probably one of the worst pains he ever had in his life.

"That is an incredible story, dear. And I am sure there are some pieces you are not telling me, but I will trust you have your reasons for it" said Rosie, never losing her polite smile as all of that informated crashed on her like an avalancha. Alastor didn't thought she would. She was a true lady, through and through. "But if you are here with Lucifer, I guess I will have to believe it" she extended her hand and squeezed his, just as Alastor returned the gesture. "I am so sorry you went through that, my friend. It sounds like you went through a whole journey of your own, but it's good to see that you found your way home."

Alastor lifted her hand to kiss it delicately.

"Me too."

"Now, would you explain to me why do you have a illusion spell on?" She clicked her tongue when he arched an eyebrows, questioning. "Honey, there is a store that sell those just two buildings from here. I helped the owner to develop them, so of course I recognize it. But this is something else" commented. "You could fool probably even that owner with it. Why do you need it?"

Alastor sighed, looking to the curtain of the entrance and Rosie understood. She stand up to close it more firmly and then do the same for her windows, leaving them with the lightbuld in the ceiling. Once that was done and Rosie was back on her seat, Alastor pressed on the sigil twice to reveal what was now his true face.

"Oh, goodness" said Rosie, cupping his cheek, darker now and inspecting the blood red hair now. "Well, that is different, for sure."

"Charlie this morning thought I was an imposter with a bad wig" commented Alastor, now incapable of not finding the humor on the whole situation.

"You can't blame that poor girl. She missed you so much and you didn't even thought of telling her as soon you came back. Of course she would be shocked."

"That was kinda my fault" said Lucifer, curling around the tea pots since it was still warmth. "I promised her I would have breakfast with her and then I didn't. I was… kinda all over the place."

"Your Majesty, you went through a lot already. I am not going to blame you for that. Alastor, in the other hand…" There was a teasing smile pulling at the corner of her mouth and Alastor had to shrugg.

"In my defense, my soul had just burn."

"Excuses, excuses" Rosie giggled, kissing his cheek just as Alastor was pressing the sigil again. "But once the shock wore off, how was she?"

"Better" said Alastor. "I think she will be good from now on."

"Keep an eye out for her anyway, darling. I should really visit one day of these days" Rosie sighed, serving some more tea for herself before going on a completely different tangent on gossip. Alastor crossed his legs and listened, grateful for the return to normalcy.

When they returned to the hotel, carrying a huge cut of meat that Rosie insisted on gifting them with, Alastor stared at his own portrait on the entrance, recognizing the style immediately.

"We should probably turn that down now" commented Alastor.

Lucifer jumped from his shoulder, transforming into his demon form to look at it too.

"Why? You look good."

"Not all hotels have a painted portrait of it's employees hanging for everyone to see."

"They would if their faces are worth seeing" chuckled Lucifer, conjuring a duster to clean it up a little before turning to Alastor. "The painting is staying, babe. I like to see it now and I am sure Charlie feels the same."

"If anyone ask, it was not my decision. I am not taking the narcissism accusations for it" Alastor walked into the lobby, immediately being received by six arms hugging him. Four of them lifting him up the ground.

"You-you-you are the best father everrr" was crying Charlie, which wasn't that surprising, but then also Angel was the one openly sobbing.

"Husk told me what happened! I don't know what to do to thank you. I promise you to never, ever, say another bad thing about you again, Alastor, thank you so much!" finally managed to understand Alastor before it degenerated into just whinny sounds of pure, heartbreaking relief.

Well, for another person that would have been moving. Alastor instead dissolved into his shadows from the ground and stayed on a side. Seemingly without minding, Angel and Charlie hugged each other as they kept crying into each other's arms. Eventually Lucifer joined them too, because of course he would.

"Hey" called Husk. When Alastor looked at him, he extended a hand. "You are still an asshole and I won't ever trust you with shit. I don't even want to know how you did it. But still… thank you."

"None at all" Alastor looked at the hand just as Husk was about to retire it and he took it instead, giving him a firm shake. "I paid my debt for looking after my family."

"It was never a debt, you dumb motherfucker. You are the only one who sees it like that." Husk huffed. They both released the other at the same time. "Whatever."

The winged cat rolled his eyes, going over to the group to try to talk down Angel, who now was kneeling in the ground, shaking on his sobs, squeezed between the two Morningstar. Alastor decided it was the best for everyone to let them be and kept walking to the kitchen, where Vaggie was setting up some tea. No doubt to calm down Charlie and Angel once they were ready.

"Ah, welcome back, sir" greeted Vaggie with a half smile. "I will just finish with this and I will be leaving the kitchen."

"Don't rush on my account, Vaggie" Alastor put the meat on the fridge, conciously avoiding the surprise look on her face as he gave her his back. He tapped on the door of the fridge as if looking for something else. It probably hurt like hell for her too when she fell. Lucifer had decided to like her on that base alone. He didn't know if he had that same inclination, but she too had stayed at Charlie's side through it all and that counted for something. She had even been there being the first supporter of her idea, even before both of her parents were. "Do we have coffe by any chance?"

"Um…" Vaggie needed a second to react being aknowledged by her father in law. She then cleared her throat and reached for the cupboard. "Y-yes, sir, there is a couple of bags still. Mostly for Angel and Husk because nobody else drinks it."

When she turned around, Alastor was already at her back and she almost dropped it.

"Thank you, Vaggie" said, taking it from her hands and moving to prepare it.

"You are… welcome. Sir" Vaggie brushed her hair as she went to attend the boiling water.

Neither of them added another word, preparing their beverages, but Vaggie still smiled a little to herself. When a soft melody started coming of Alastor's staff, Vaggie hummed with it when Husk finally managed to bring the trio over.

--

At night, Alastor was absolutely beat but satisfied. Charlie had not beeing satisfied until she gave her a fully detailed tour of the new hotel, showing off their new characteristic and giving a long explanation for each one. Alastor noticed that the circus theme of his husband was more present than ever, but it was still toned down to allow something slightly classier that almost didn't made him criticize the tacky aspects. He still had to do it, for sure, and Lucifer was at the ready to argue on it's favor until Charlie called their attention again.

They had a big dinner where Charlie asked for another story and he spoke with her arm hugging his, while Lucifer was locking his hooves with his under the table. Not to try to be sexy, just to keep touching him someway as he engaged in conversation with the others.

It had been fun, he had to admit. But also exhausting and he couldn't wait to get under the bedsheets and just sleep all he couldn't back in Heaven. He was sure that Lucifer too would appreciate the uninterrupted rest.

"Al" called Lucifer, stopping mid unbottoning of his vest.

"Mmm" said Alastor mid yawn. His brain started to stir awake again when realizing that Lucifer's eyes were glowing gold, looking to their window. He had never seen him do that. "What is wrong?"

"An angel has just fallen into hell."

[fumifooms]

Howl’s moving castle dunmeshi AU

I’ve cracked the code I know why I love Marcille x Chilchuck so much. They’re literally just like Howl’s Moving Castle Howl and Sophie. Okok indulge me for a sec I’m about to dump so many pics and ramble for a bit. I want you to see my marchil vision. It’s fabulous extra cringefail hopeless romantic drama queen x grumpy old sad angry caring hardworking person cursed to be here & cursing fate and giving tough love to everything in a miles radius. No one is safe. From either of them. Calcifer or Micheal is Izutsumi. Wait wait no Calcifer is Senshi and Michael is Izutsumi. Senshi as Calcifer works bc Calcifer is just chained to Howl and is there reminding Howl to not die and take care of himself, giving hints about how to break the curse to Sophie, also the fire demon cooks the eggs and bacon checkmate. And then LAIOS IS TURNIP HEAD OH MY GOD THAT WORKS OUT PERFECTLY. Chilchuck & Marcille, screaming terrified of the weird scarecrow chasing after them, meanwhile the weird scarecrow that’s harmless: :(. Wizard Suliman is Falin and the second fire demon is Winged Lion, so bam everything comes full circle.

I’m assuming most people who’ll see this post maybe saw the movie but not the book, and what you need to know is that the movie makes Howl so much dreamier and collected and cool, whereas in the book he’s just a drama queen 24/7 that’s it. He’s a wet cat dressed in expensive sparkly glittery gowns that needs to be yelled at to do anything he needs to do. He complains. He bemoans. Meanwhile Sophie is, honestly pretty like in the movie? Less contrarian and anger issues but will grumble and yells while cleaning nonetheless. Hardworking but will pathetically sit down on a chair in a dark corner to cry about her aching bones and OHH this is ALL because she’s the eldest child and she was doomed for unhappiness and no one can ever love her… So she’ll whack everyone into order and purge her feelings through aggressive cleaning and using weed killer. IS THIS NOT GIVING MARCILLE & CHIL TO YOU?!

There’s this funny widespread take from the fandom:

And it couldn’t be more true in a marchil context either. Like come on. For all of this post just swap the names of Howl for Marcille and Sophie for Chilchuck.

(Last one with the art by Cookiekappa on Tumblr)

Tell me this isn’t so Marcille. Tell me Chil wouldn’t run away from home thinking he’s failed life and is no longer in shape to work and now has to waddle in self-pity, seeking out wizards which he hates and finds shady bc it’s his last option, and then end up a maid & cleans everything out of spite and also worry for the person living there. Tell me Marcille wouldn’t throw a depressed slime tantrum so bad that it causes a partial town evacuation because her wails summon unknown horrors, over her HAIR. Forget slime she’d blow up the house instantly. She would breakdance as refusal to go see the king. Chilchuck would call her a slitherer-outer and she would gasp in offense and they’d have a fight.

Marcille having full on poems laying around and then Chil & Izu seeing them and being like "Ah yes, this must be a spell, it makes no sense and is so extra, just like how silly our resident witch and her magic is". Izutsumi going "Okay peepaw I’ll teach you how to use a magical bucket just take one step forward-" and they immediately fuck it up and they’re left stranded in far unknown lands. Chilchuck complaining that HIS BACK HURTS. And at every turn or something mildly inconveniencing him "NOTHING GOOD EVER HAPPENS TO THE MIDDLE CHILD".

And can we talk about the aging motif, the curse… Marcille never letting herself grow close to someone even though she does all these grand gestures for them at first. Meanwhile her fear of loss stares at her straight in the eye whenever she looks at 90 years old Chilchuck, and her deciding to not run away from their relationship is what ends up healing both of them. She gets over her fear of intimacy and he grows over feeling like a terribly dull unlovable failure. Me sobbing when I remember how Sophie’s curse of being old is a self-inflicted manifestation of herself thinking she’s romantically unlovable and weak…….

This is it for now but rest assured that I want to make art of this, have these memes for now

[hopeforkitten]

I want to marry Raphael's-warlock-Tav concept, so here's a backstory with a super sweet Haarlep. Coverage of the course of affairs before her gingerbread house is crushed by tentacles.

"I wonder if this is your initiative or are you just following Raphael's instructions?"

As always, Tav woke up on red silk in the House of Hope. She sat up on the bed and watched Haarlep's careful steps. He was obviously going to wake her up later. In his hands, the incubus held a tray of food, a little favorite for the Tav from the banquet hall.

"Which of these do you like more?"

Tav raised her finger to her chin in a thoughtful gesture

"Um, Raphael loves me so much that he orders you to do it. And do you love me so much that you follow orders with such a satisfied face?"

Haarlep snorted in displeasure,

"You overestimate Raphael's concern. And you underestimate my attention, honey."

The tray landed quietly on the table on the balcony, next to a plate of fruit.

"It's very consistent on Raphael's part not to let his subordinates sleep and then send them on errands"

"As if this is the first time this has happened"

Tav sat down on the bed with her feet on the floor.

She got up and walked slowly to the balcony, yawning and stretching, and Haarlap met her in the middle of the way. He bent down to kiss the girl on the forehead, he moved to the side and hugged her to him with his arm around her waist. Haarlep's touch was as natural as the feel of a light nightgown on her body.

"If I were him, I wouldn't let our little princess leave this house,"

Tav sleepily clung to the incubus, inhaling its smell of fire and light herbs, it was refreshing.

"There are many interesting things outside the house"

"I hope to hear a story about them when you return"

Haarlep released her waist and traced a line with his fingers over her shoulders as she walked away to the balcony.

For a while, the girl preened and had breakfast, simultaneously studying the papers left by Raphael.

"What a charm, it looks like he wanted to pit two groups of mercenaries, but they began to cooperate,"

Tav read the notes sitting at breakfast like a morning newspaper, then voicing everything interesting to Haarlep, bored in the background.

"Both leaders have signed contracts of diabolical luck, but they reluctantly fulfill Raphael's wishes. I need to plant evidence against each other and have a clear conversation with one gang."

"He sends our kitten to a bunch of mercenaries... Madman"

"The work is actually extremely rough, it's not Raphael's handwriting"

Tav frowns at a piece of paper, holding a cup of tea in one hand.

"Perhaps at this time you appeared in his life."

Haarlep was lying on the bed, his head had fallen off the edge and he was looking at Tav upside down.

"It's prosaic that now I'm solving the problems that have arisen"

"The devil takes away debts, everything is natural"

Tav goes to get dressed to the locker. He wears only elegant red heeled boots and straightens up. She clicks her heels loudly and all the other equipment appears on her, including a cloak and a sword on her back.

Tav happily examines her costume and looks at Haarlep with a question.

"How do you like it?"

"A good trick, if you do it in the opposite direction, I will be delighted"

He rolled onto his stomach and rested his head on his hands.

"I have no doubt about it. But not now. Bye, dear"

"See you later, dear!"

Haarlep briefly waved after the girl who was leaving the boudoir.

Tav was perplexed when the group of mercenaries began to retreat back in fear. Of course, the summoned cambion in war paint and with wings spread out looked impressive, but he was here throughout their short conversation. They so successfully managed to catch them in full force and in an open area, nothing will interfere with the destructive fire spells of the Tav. The gang rushed back and the girl began to turn at a strange noise behind her.

The sun was now blocked by a huge flying object with long tentacles. Instantly, images of similar things in a book in the archive flashed in her head, which did not interest the warlock at all. The life forms described in it were so different from everything she had seen that she did not want to believe in their existence.

The last thing Tav sees is the cambion raising his spear arm against the tentacle approaching with terrible speed and the girl covers her head with her hands in an even attempt to defend herself.

In an instant, she finds herself in a narrow capsule, an unpleasant image and a disgusting smell of mucus and flesh hits her eyes and nose, which makes the girl turn off.

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Lovers & Friends (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Keigo Takami x Black!Fem!Reader (Friends to Lovers)

Synopsis: In which you and Keigo have begun to realize the strange new feelings you both have for each other after one drunken night at a close friend’s wedding that ends with you in his bed, but because of your longtime friendship and committed relationships with other people, you’re more than happy to forget that night even happened and keep your mutual feelings in the dark…for now, at least. 

Story Warnings: Smutty smut; 18+ (MINORS GET AWAY); Cheating/Infidelity; Mating; Light Degradation; Spanking; Exhibitionism; Multiple Positions; Creampie; Unprotected PIV Sex; Facial; Scent Play; Marking; Spitting; Deepthroating; Cunnilingus; Begging; Edgeplay; Power Play; Wing-Stroking; Daddy Kink; Some Angst; Hurt/Comfort; Mild Violence

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: Got another smutty ass story for y'all! And it's with my baby daddy Hawks!! I had this idea in storage for a while. Idk how long it'll be, but I'll try to finish it before the holidays start coming since shit is gonna get BUSY. Thank you always for the love & views! -Jazz

Chapters: Soundtrack. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Bonus Chapter.

Read on AO3 here!

***********

Chapter One: The Dry Spell. 

“God, yes, Y/N!” Rei shouts from above you, his hips grinding against yours as he pistons in and out of you. 

The bedsprings to your bed creak in time with his movements which are relentless as he approaches his orgasm. “You feel so good!” he moans, eyes closed and a smile on his face. “Are you feelin’ it too?” 

You stare at him from underneath his body, barely making a peep. “Yeah,” you mumble. “I’m definitely feelin’ something.” Instead of looking at how much ecstasy your boyfriend is in above you from the completely dry and unsatisfying sex, you look off to the window where the warm summer night air blows in. 

You wonder briefly what other people are doing on a nice night such as this one. Hopefully something better than this: lying underneath a man and pretending to like how his fingers are rubbing your clit too hard.

Not that he notices. He doesn’t notice much when he’s close to nutting. You instantly feel horrible for thinking this way about your man, but shit, after a year of dating, you’d think the guy would know how to please his woman. You guess not since the sex hasn’t gotten any better since you two did had it the first time. 

All you can do is grasp his shoulders and let him do his thing. When he proceeds to rut into you like he’s trying to hit a home run, you know he’s close. He usually only uses about 10% of his quirk at this point into sex. At first, you were uncomfortable with the amount of speed he was using so he cut back, but now you’re used to it. 

“Fuck!” he shouts, his dark coils of hair bouncing around his head as his hips snap into yours again and again. He grips your hips roughly, meaning you’ll definitely have bruises on your hips tomorrow. He goes so fast that you hit your head against the headboard repeatedly, but you don’t say anything. You don’t want to ruin his fun. It’s bad enough you’re not enjoying yourself even the least bit. You don’t even have the urge to reach down and rub your clit to cum with him. 

But you do care about the guy and you don’t want to hurt his feelings, so this is usually the point where you fake your orgasm. Getting into character, you grip his shoulders and wrap your legs around him, pulling him in deeper. “Yeah, baby,” you gasp into his ear. “Cum with me, please! Make me cum! Yes, yes, just like that!” 

A string of fake moans and whines you remember hearing in your favorite porn videos leaves your lips as Rei fucks you until the point of no return. The moans that leave his lips are shrill and loud. You sigh, knowing you’ll have issues with your neighbors again over noise complaints. When he finally cums, it is just as uneventful and anti-climatic as a bad action movie. His muscles clench and his body seizes, his mouth open in a silent O of pure ecstasy. When Rei cums, he always sounds like he’s having the biggest yawn of his life. 

You just continue to play your part, acting like you’re cumming with him. However, your mind is somewhere else entirely. Though his handsome face and sweat-soaked body are nice to look at, you feel nothing even remotely close to arousal that urges you to cum. You feel nothing. And you hate that. 

Finally, after giving you some more sloppy thrusts of his hips, Rei looks down at you and smiles, bliss on his face. “That was amazing,” he sighs. “You’re amazing.” You manage to smile as he lovingly strokes your face. “You’re so pretty when you cum,” he coos before leaning down to kiss your lips. 

Now, Rei is a great kisser–he has these full, pink lips that he knows how to work against yours. You wish you could cum just by his makeout sessions. But this is about the only thing he’s really good at when it comes to physical intimacy, especially in the bedroom. It isn’t that he doesn’t care about your pleasure too, but he isn’t attentive. He doesn’t quite know or understand your body. 

Or maybe you just don’t know yours. That may be another reason why you’re not feeling sexy time with your boyfriend. 

You look away towards the window as your boyfriend rolls off of you, satisfied with the unfulfilling sex you two just had. You don’t tell him you didn’t cum. You just let him feel proud of himself, not wanting to argue or hurt him. But the simmering frustration inside of you doesn’t let up. 

Rei reaches for you for a snuggle like you usually do after sex, but you’re not in the mood to pretend tonight. “Um!” you squeak, suddenly sitting up straight. Rei stares at you, confused. “I-I’m gonna go pee,” you tell him, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be right back.” 

Rei, in all of his beauty, with his tan skin, toned body, and that cute little mole on his chin, smiles at you. “Hurry back,” he coos, sitting up against the headboard of your bed. You smile and slip out of bed, quickly grabbing your robe from the floor that Rei ripped off of you beforehand. 

You slip into your private bedroom and close the door, locking it for good measure. Then you sit on the edge of your bathtub and put your head in your hands. Your body yearns for release and your pussy aches in desperation. You’d run the sink water and masturbate if you didn’t know you’d feel guilty for it later.

You groan, running your hands through your hair. “Why are you like this?” you ask yourself. 

You wish you had the answer. The unfulfilling sex is nothing new–it’s been happening for months now. You don’t know when you realized how much you despised having sex with Rei, but it never let up or resolved itself. 

For one, the sex is boring. While Rei loves his missionary and doggy style but he doesn’t mind switching things up when you ask. You want to 69? He does it. You want to be on top? He lets you with no problem. 

But kink has never been Rei’s thing in the bedroom. There was one time you and Rei tried handcuffs one night, but he had lost the key, so you never ventured down the road to kinkiness ever again. But with every new, adventurous thing you tried in the bedroom, nothing worked. While it’s totally fine for kinky sex to not be someone’s thing, there are times when you want more from Rei. You want some excitement! Some razzle dazzle! Something to have you coming back for more!

Secondly, Rei isn’t as attentive or in tune with your body as you want him to be. Though you’ve tried to teach him, he’s always pinching your nipples just a little too hard or wiggling his tongue a little too fast when he goes down. You often just let him do what he wants now without speaking up because of how hard he’s been going with work. 

And then there’s a third reason: you simply don’t feel that connection with Rei during sex, which is odd because he’s such an attractive and amazing guy! He’s a gentleman; kind and intelligent; sweet and funny. Not to mention he’s an amazing pro hero, ranked at no. 9. He goes by the name “Tempo” to match his speed quirk. He can control and utilize his quirk extremely well during missions. You’ve seen him in action many, many times since you’ve worked together over the years. 

You found yourself working alongside him at your first agency (which you’re still at now) shortly after graduating UA when you were just eighteen. Word around the office was that he was crushing on you, but you never had a chance to investigate because he was transferred to a new agency that paid him a lot more four years later.

Time passed and at the age of twenty-six, you found yourself crossing his path again a year ago during a mission that involved a bank robbery and a villain with a gas quirk. You knew Rei the moment you saw him once you got a look at his hero’s fit and those coils of black hair that reached his shoulders. After an arrest and a job well done, Rei had asked you out for coffee and that was all she wrote. 

Now here you are, about to rip your hair out over a possible future of doomed sex and no orgasms. This is truly a tragic tale for you both. After a few more minutes of moping and regretting your life choices, you splash some cold water on your face from the sink and walk back into your bedroom to find Rei getting dressed. “What’s up?” you ask as he pulls on his briefs and then his jeans. 

“Villain attack,” he sighs, his tall, broad frame silhouetted in the moonlight as he buttons his pants. “Fucker decided to terrorize downtown by setting fire to some buildings. Apparently, he has a Pyro quirk. It’s not nothin’ too bad, but my boss wants me posted with a couple of other heroes I’ve worked with before.” He turns to you, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry, honey. I wanted to stay tonight, especially since Rumi isn’t here, so we could spend more time together.” 

You feel a twinge of guilt in your gut. Here you are, neglecting him and acting distant, and he’s so concerned about spending more time with you because of your work. You feel like the worst girlfriend and person in the world.

You go to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “It’s fine. The work of a pro is never done, ya know.” You peck him on the lips, nuzzling your nose with his. “Go, and be careful. I don’t need to see you on the news tomorrow all bruised up.” 

Rei scoffs, rolling his pine-tree green eyes at you. “Please. Like that’d be possible with my speed.” You stand back and watch him put his shirt and shoes on before he presses another kiss to your lips, holding onto your waist. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips. 

“I love you too,” you reply, which is definitely something you say to someone who loves you. At least that’s what you tell yourself. But even as the words leave your lips, you don’t feel like you truly mean them–yet another reason you’re a horrible girlfriend and person. You’re lying right through your teeth. 

Rei smiles adoringly at you before he leaves your bedroom and minutes later, exits your apartment. As soon as he’s gone and you hear his car pull out of your driveway, you sit down on the edge of your bed and run your hands over your face, trying to fight back the tears threatening to push through and make your night even worse. 

“Fuck, I thought he’d never leave.” 

A very familiar (and sexy, according to some people) voice coming from your window makes you jump right out of your skin and nearly use your quirk to fend off the “threat” you believe they are. However, when a familiar mess of unruly blonde locks and goggles peers around the corner to look into your bedroom, you sigh in relief and irritation. “Keigo!” you scold him as he sneaks through your bedroom window, decked out in his hero’s gear too. 

He gives you his signature dazzling, white-toothed grin as he climbs through your window that even the burn scare that stretched from his jawline down to his neck can distract you from. “What’s poppin’, b?” he asks, using that greeting only he and Dabi use to make you and Rumi cringe. 

“You can’t just sneak up on me like that or come to my bedroom window, especially when Rei is here,” you criticize. “How many times do I have to tell you this shit?” 

Keigo huffs, now standing in your bedroom in the late hours of the night, which is a normal occurrence for the pro hero no. 2 aka Hawks. He’s been crawling through your bedroom window for late-night adventures since middle school when it was just you and him. Rumi aka Mirko, the Rabbit Hero, came later while you attended UA.

Not much has changed since then, except now, instead of your childhood home, Keigo crawls through the window of the condo across the city that you share with Rumi. 

“Oh, relaaax, baby bird,” he chides you. “After the last time I showed up and got a flash of your man’s dick, I learned my lesson. Plus, you act like I’ve never seen you naked before.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Remember that time in middle school I snuck into the girls’ locker room?” 

You laugh at the memory, remembering the big ass knot he walked around with for days after that you gave him. “Yeah, and I believe that’s when we first met. Shit, that was a long time ago. Weren’t we in fifth grade?” 

“Sixth,” he corrects you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “But we can reminisce more over our decades-long friendship over some wings, shots, and karaoke at Hoshi’s now that I’m off the clock.” 

You sigh, already exhausted from the idea of going out tonight. Especially with Keigo. The man is like a damn kid with candy once he’s got some alcohol in him. “As much as I’d love to hear your drunk ass attempt at singing,” you sarcastically say, “I’m not really in the mood for all that, Kei.” 

By the look Keigo gives you, with his head tilted to the side like a puppy, he can tell this has to do with Rei. He doesn’t even have to ask, which you also hate. The guy can read you like an open book, but you’d expect nothing less from someone you’ve been friends with for years now. 

Instead of saying anything, he just takes his wallet out of his back pocket and flashes it to you, an eyebrow raised: ‘I’m paying.’ You groan, not being able to turn down free wings, booze, and endless karaoke. “Alright, fine,” you sigh, defeated. “Get out so I can change and don’t wake Rumi.” 

Keigo flashes you a prideful grin at his success. “I never wake cottontail,” he scoffs before turning to the window and climbing back out, laughing into the night as he does. 

You sigh and walk to your bedroom closet, readying yourself for a night of total chaos. 

[v3nusxsky]

Dont tempt me| NSFW

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Authors note~ here’s some content for my lovely lady lesso. This could be absolutely poor quality as I'm exhausted and it will not be proof read so I apologise for any mistake but they are all mine :)*

Trigger warnings ~ dom/sub begging fingering oral overstimulation accidental mommy kink praise kink degrading kink

Prompt~ "fuck you" ... "would you?"

Since the merger of the school for good and the school for evil, the environment has been reflecting the mood swings of a teenager. Good and evil now learning to co-exist and lean on each other. Baby steps of course. That's where you come in. You were hired to teach literature for both Evers and Nevers. One of the first teachers to have a mixed class. Yet you were thriving. Your students seemed to bond well with you, rather engaging in the lessons as you tried to cater to everyone's interests while sticking to the curriculum. It was truly magical to see the students slowly but surely not want to kill each other. You hadn't been brave enough to assign any mixed group work projects yet tho. That for sure would cause bloodshed, not particularly something you wanted to deal with in your first semester.

With the Evers, professor Dovey stood with them. Her beauty and pristine gracefulness shone through her joyous personality. Truly a joy to be around. Should anyone ever need cheering up, you'd definitely send them to Dovey. Clarissa Dovey, Dean for good used her powers to comfort struggling students the most. Instantly you could spot how certain students would seek her out in a room. She made them feel safe. A smile and a hug could go a long way.

Then there's her counterpart, Lady Leonora Lesso, Dean of evil. Now imagine the complete opposite of Dovey. Yep that's her. Quite a complex human. That's what drew you in if your truly honest. She's so guarded, you just want to know more. Often you could find her staking the halls like a fox hunting it's prey. Despite the merger, students still feared her. You'd heard stories of a doom room. One with some rather interesting attributes. Although probably not the desired effect of the room, you ached to visit, to just experience it one time. Two consenting adults could have so much fun in there. The thought causing a flush to adorn your cheeks. She was a coworker for heavens sake. The thoughts of becoming Lesso's prey only grew with time. Little did you know, you were quite the curious creature to the red head. She longed to clip your innocent white wings, and watch you fall under her spell. This is what leads you to the current moment.

The past few weeks had become some what of a game between you and the dean of evil. It all started when she interrupted a lesson of yours as you were teaching one of your favourite Shakespearean plays. Macbeth. The particular passage where you were asking your class to asses her body language and what that implied. Lesso smirked and offered to give a real demonstration for the students. "After all some students learn visually isn't that right Miss y/l/n"

She revealed in your reaction, immediately starting the cat and mouse game. Or rather the fox and her dove. Pay back had been sweet, of course you had to be mad to challenge Leonora but still you did so anyway. This is exactly what lead you to her office after hours. You should be marking your students essays on Lady Macbeth however, a black raven swooped in, narrowly missing your head while dropping a piece of parchment before leaving again. You carefully untied the bow and instantly recognised the neat cursive penmanship.

Does my dove give up? I've been eagerly awaiting your next move. I expected more of you y/n. At least give me a challenge.

The fox.

As you read you could practically see her lips curling up into her famous smirk. She signed it as the name you'd accidentally given her. In a lesson you had with first years you we're discussing a descriptive words to describe a fox. Only when a few students began to give answers such as "sly" "sneaky" "feisty" "stealthy" did one student stutter "lesso." You couldn't help but agree. She did rather match the description so you wrote it with the rest. At that moment you heard a chuckle. The fox herself stood in your doorway. "Miss y/l/n, you think I'm a fox? Then what are you? The innocent dove?" She taunted you watching the blush appear that you desperately tried to fight off. "Lesso, how lovely of you to join us. Did you need something?" You deadpanned hoping to avoid the feelings stirring in you at the pet names.

You definitely had feelings for the women. But she was infuriatingly untouchable. No matter your best attempts you couldn't achieve the level of flustering her that she did on you. Which is why you decided to get brave. Parchment in hand you stormed your way down to Lesso's office. Anxiety rolling off you in waves at your plan. You were most definitely going to get killed. But death by her stunning hands? Well worth it.

When you arrived at her door you bypassed knocking and just waltzed in. The women sitting at her desk busily working away. She didn't even spare you a glance as you entered. "Now dove what are you doing in here?" She mumbled seemingly very uninterested in your presence. Her eyes never stopped scanning her work and he quill scribbling down words in her beautiful cursive penmanship.

"What is this game lesso? Is it anything to you? Just fun. Why do you keep messing with me during my lesson times. What was with the raven? Miss me that much huh" you were spiralling, desperate for some kind of reaction. "Maybe I'm making you wait fox maybe I'm busy" you finished eyes blaring with determination.

"Miss y/n I'm rather busy-" she tried only to be cut off by you approaching her and crushing your lips to hers in a bruising kiss. Waiting for the moment she was desperate for more. Only then to pull back and completely remove yourself from her. "Oh such a desperate fox" you taunted her watching the frustration and desire fight for control.

"Fuck you dove!" She all but growled at you her breathing heavy.

"Would you?" You retorted unsure where this brass neck of confidence came from. Her eyes darkened in response as she leapt up and stalked towards you. Instinctively you moved backwards until you were pressed between the wall and the fox. Her grin almost sadistic, eyes black with desire. A embarrassing squeak drew from your body as she roughly claimed your lips as hers. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip. The cooper taste mixed with the taste of her causing a low whine to leave you.

Pulling away to gain air, she kissed nipped and sucked all over your neck. The dark purple blemishes already showing. All you could do is whine and whimper at the sensations and desperately pray your legs would hold you up. "Some innocent dove you are" she sneered after a particularly low whine left you as she nipped your pulse point, "such a response slut for me hmm" she all but cooed.

"Please" you begged not knowing if she'd comply. Completely at her mercy was not what you had planned for the night. With that you were lifted into her arms and carried to her bed. Immediately her hands working to rid you of your dress. Desperate for more skin to explore. Months of pent up desire finally coming to head. She moaned out in approval once you were stripped bare and laid out for her. Her hands trailing all over your skin. Feather light and teasing. Hickeys now adorned your neck and the tops of your breasts. Her mouth creating more bruising while her fingers stroking your breast with one had and pinching the bud with the other. Moans were flowing more freely now. But as nice as it was, it wasn't enough. Your hips jerked up in a silent plea. This was torture. You needed her. And now.

However your plea was ignored, simply moving her hand to pin your hips to the bed. You whined in response to her denial of your unasked question. "Now now dove, be a good girl and you'll get what you want. You want me to touch you hmm?" She husked out still completely enthralled with brushing your pale skin. All you could do is nod and try to be patience.

"If you want me to make touch you then I need words my slut" she purred loving how you were responding to her. Who would've knew you would be like this? Some meek little English teacher, not an ever, but not a never but a secret little minx. That fact only adding to the attraction and infatuation lesso has with  you.

"Please, please Nora I -" a moan broke your sentence off as she immediately moved her hands to your soaked folds just teasing never fully giving you anything. "Nora?" The smirk on her lips showing you she liked the nickname. "I wonder how many times you've screamed that with your own fingers between your legs wishing they were mine." She mused out loud before bringing her lips to taste you. Your aching core was dripping and the taste absolutely Devine. Her self control dwindled as she lapped you up like fine wine.

Your orgasm building faster than normal, you were no use anymore. All you could focus on his the pleasure the fox was giving. Feasting on you like there was no tomorrow. Your bundle of nerves reviving the attention it craved. "Please please fuck please I need" you whimpered as you teetered on the edge of pleasure.

"You may dove. That's my good girl hmm. Such a good slut" and with those words she continued eating you like there was no tomorrow. Lapping up every drop of your essence as you tumbled off the edge and into the pools of pleasure. A whine of surprise left you as you realised Lesso wasn't done with you. Her mouth still working diligently between your soaked thighs.

"Fox i fuck what?" Your train of thought completely lost as two fingers were thrusted into your core. Immediately your walls reacting to squeeze the life from them. Fuck this women was going to kill you. She set her own brutal pace as she finger fucked you soaking in every delicious sound you made. Watching as you screwed your eyes shut and flung your head back in pleasure. The whimpers were nearly constant now. All you could do is lay there and mewl at her administrations like a cat in heat.

"Oh fuck mommy!" You all but screamed as another gush of white hot pleasure tore through you. How many orgasms had you had now? Honestly you'd lost count, all you knew was your body called for her. You didn't even know what you said until you felt her withdraw the fingers that has been bringing you pleasure. "Mommy? Oh what a little minx you are young one" she teased as you stumbled over an apology. Why did you say that. God but it had felt so good.

"No no dove don't say sorry I like it."she reassured before going back to business. Her touch was killing you. It was all too much now. You're tired battered body couldn't handle another orgasm but lesso seemed sure on forcing another. She'd rip it from your body despite the fact your exhausted. She wanted one so she'd get one. "Mommy! Please I can't! N-no m-more " you whined. Feeling the familiar feeling of the edge once more.

"You can and you will pretty girl. I want you to cum for me" and with that you tumbled over the edge with a scream of pleasure "mommy! Oh fuck god I"

The room feel silent oddly quick besides the unstable breathing from you both. Did you just? A quick peak confirmed it. You'd passed out. She'd fucked you so well your body physically couldn't handle it and shut down. The fact filling her with an unmatched sense of pride. Quickly but gently, Leonora set to work cleaning you up, carful knowing you would be sore before shifting you into her bed and wrapped the covers over you. Despite not actually being pleasured that was something that Lesso would treasure forever. In fact she wanted more. You were hers now. Her dove and she your fox.

Word count ~ 2118

*Authors note~ I haven’t wrote for lady lesso before but I’m obsessed with her character so I may write some more for her*

[221bshrlocked]

falling again (1)

Pairing: Pero Tovar x Siren Afab!Reader (Harry Potter AU)

Words: 9365

Warnings: Lots of dialogue. Pero is afraid and he shows it through anger and name-calling. Slight bias against another species due to past trauma. Intense making out. Slight nudity. Sort of a cliffhanger?

Prompts: “Maybe you can fool them, but I know what you are.” and “Do you trust me?”

A/N: This is for @pedrostories Celebration who are truly doing the Lord's work by compiling and recommending and being an archive for exceptional fanfiction. I can go on about Digital Archives and how useful they are in the long-run but it'll be boring so this is what I will say: thanks team for all that you do. We really appreciate you and we're happy you're going strong with this account. Kudos!!! Side note, it's been a long minute since I wrote a story, especially one for Pedro's characters, so do let me know how I'm doing please and thank you. #iwrotemostofthisduringhurricanehilary

The blaring horn jolts you awake, nearly sending the bottle in your hand to the ground. You tighten your hold on the neck of the cold drink, glancing at the doorway and finding students making their way across rather quickly. As soon as you look out the window, your heart races at the sight of the view. It’s a long way up the mountain, and even though it’s nearly dark, you can just make out the outline of the old castle.

Hogwarts. 

You’ve heard so much about the school, but now that you were nearly on the grounds, you couldn’t help but wonder how different it looks, how ancient it appears. 

Two knocks sound from the entrance of your cabin, and you turn around to see a young man standing and smiling at you. You smile in return as you grab your luggage and slide the door for him. 

“You must be Professor Longbottom!” The man nods as he extends out his hand to shake your own. 

“And you must be Dr. Fluviu. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

“Please, the pleasure is all mine. It’s not every day I get to meet a well-renowned aquatic botanist.” You smile even wider when you notice him turn away and blush at the compliment, one you would tell him later is much deserved. He gestures for you to walk ahead of him, and you nod in silence before you follow the rest of the students off the train. 

Several students stop your new acquaintance as you make your way towards the carriages, and you wait for him each time he responds to them. You pretend not to hear the teasing comments some of the older students make when they spot you behind him, and when you finally make it to the carriage, you apologize for putting him in such an awkward position. 

“I should be the one apologizing, not you. They are my students after all.” He takes the bag from your hand and places it in the box behind the carriage, ensuring it’s locked before he walks around and gives you a hand as you ascend the steps. You part your lips to respond to him, only to look up and watch two thestrals nudging each other playfully. Your mind frizzles instantly and you turn around to the herbology professor, only to see him shrugging his shoulders at you. 

“You can sit down Doctor, they won’t go anywhere.” He motions for you to be seated, climbing behind you instantly and casting a spell so the winged beasts can journey. 

“Forgive me Professor, but I- I have never seen one before. I’ve read about them of course but…well, I didn’t expect them to look so…so-” You don’t dare blink, afraid that you’ll open your eyes and they will be gone, just a figment of your imagination. 

“Terrifying?”

“Magnificent.”

Both of you sound the word simultaneously, and you look at him immediately, shaking your head out of fear of having him misunderstand you. 

“Hmm, I’ve never heard them described in such a way. But I suppose you’re right. And please, call me Neville.” He throws you another smile then, but it doesn’t reach his ears, almost as if the conversation reminded him of something he didn’t wish to remember. 

“In that case, call me Y/N.” Neville nods at you, and before you know it, you’re chatting about shared interests and discoveries that the two of you have come about in your research. You only notice that your carriage has taken a detour when you can no longer hear the conversations of the other students around you. 

“How come we’ve taken this route?” You ask Neville, only to have him rub his neck nervously and look away from you. He waits until the other carriages are far enough before he responds to you. 

“It is my understanding that not all of your…people, get along and if we were to have gone with the others, we would have needed to cross through the Black Lake. I wasn’t too sure about your comfort level near waters with sirens, and I figured this would be the most comfortable for you.” He’s choosing his words carefully, that you’re sure of, and you reach out to touch his shoulder immediately to set his mind at ease

“That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you!”

“Of course.” He chuckles through his embarrassment and you take this chance to double down on your response, not wanting him to feel awkward around you. 

“There aren’t many out there who understand the dynamics between clans of my kind. I do mean it when I say you’re thoughtful.” The conversation returns to shared interests soon after, and before you know it, you’re arriving just outside the main gate of the castle. Neville continues to be patient with your awe of the building structure, asking you to walk ahead as he takes your luggage and makes his way behind you. When you start asking him all sorts of questions about the history of the building, he answers you enthusiastically, going as far as suggesting books on the castle since its inception. 

“Oh, I forgot about the time.” Neville blurts out when the clock strikes seven times. 

“Are we late?”

“Not fully, but I would rather if you attended the beginning of the night along with the other professors and the Headmistress.” He leads you through the main entrance and asks you to step inside the Great Hall. 

“Where will you go?” You ask when you notice him walking the opposite direction.

“You will most likely meet with Professor Mcgonogall after dinner so I thought it best to take your belongings to your room now…so you don’t have to bring it along with you at the end of the night.” The simplicity with which he answers you sets your mind at ease, and you find yourself thankful that he was the one who came to welcome you tonight. 

“I- uhhh.” You can’t find the right words to thank him for being so friendly, and Neville must notice your struggle because he walks back to you and pats you on the shoulder. 

“It’s not easy coming to a place all by yourself, especially with the task in your mind. I’m glad I can make this process easier.” He smiles at you for Merlin knows what time that night, and you nod at him before thanking him for everything he’s done thus far.

“I’ll see you soon, don’t drink too much Pumpkin juice yeah!” Neville jokes as he makes his way to the staircase, leaving you to a multitude of thoughts. Taking in a deep breath, you fix your clothes before you head towards the large doors of the room he pointed to. As they swing open, you’re met with a sight you never thought would be this overwhelming. 

The memory of your arrival to the castle distracts you away from the task at hand, and you blink out of the momentary haze to avoid falling into doubt for ever coming to this place all those weeks ago. Sensing a pair of eyes on you, you glance to the side and feel your heart skip a beat when you notice Professor Tovar staring at you as he makes his way over.

You smile awkwardly at him, and gulp down whatever nervousness threatening to make itself known before he grows closer. You shut your notebook quickly when you remember what you were writing down in minutes prior, trying to appear less conspicuous as you place the other books above the small object to avoid his curious eyes. 

“G-good evening Professor Tovar,” you hope he doesn’t notice, or even comment, on the clear discomfort about you, knowing that whatever relationship you’ve managed to establish with him is still incredibly sensitive. After everything you’ve learned about him, you couldn’t blame the distrust still underlying between the two of you. When he clears his throat and breaks eye contact with you, you get the sense that he might actually be more nervous than you. 

“Buenas noches,” he grunts softly, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was reluctant to ask you what he came over to say. 

“Is there anything you need from me Professor?” You push your books aside and stand, unintentionally stepping into his personal space and making him take a small step back. 

“No, well…yes. I have some news for you…good news.” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, and if you weren’t so focused on the softness of his lips and how tempting they looked, you would have registered what he’d just admitted to you. The school grounds are quiet enough for you to hear him, except your mind chooses to meditate on how warm and welcoming his lips appear to you instead of whatever he just blurted out hastily. 

“Did you hear me hermosa?” He asks a little louder, forcing you to shake your head and apologize for not hearing him the first time. 

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said…I think I have it.”

The noise across the school grounds grows silent in an instant, and you’re left with nothing but shock and fear coursing through your veins as his admission finally settles in your busy mind. 

“What?” The question barely escapes your mouth, and you refuse to blink out, afraid you’d miss something different in his expression that might prove his confession false. 

“I am not one hundred percent sure of course, but I am almost positive it is finished.” When he speaks again, your knees buckle in and nearly send you to the ground. Professor Tovar embraces you immediately, wrapping his arms around your weakened body and supporting your weight so you don’t tumble to the hard floor of the court.

“Mierda, are you okay?” His voice is music to your ears, nearly as bewitching as your own, and if you weren’t currently attempting to overcome the momentary lapse of your mind and body, you’re sure you’d be committing this very instance to memory. 

“I’m…oofff, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what came over me all of a sudden.” You apologize as you try to right yourself, and even though he’s returned you to your seat, you refuse to let him go, afraid that he’d move away from you and leave you yearning for his touch again. 

“Forgive me, I should have waited for a better moment before I told you.” You finally convince your hands to let go of him, and as you grab for your head to try and still your mind, Professor Tovar kneels beside you and keeps close to you. His grip on your arm tightens when you look up and meet his eyes, and before you can breathe another apology to him, he’s leaning over and collecting your belongings in one arm. 

“Please Professor, you don’t have to-”

“Come with me.” He breaks your train of thought, pulling you to your feet and forcing you to keep hold of his arm as he makes his way back to the castle. You want to tell him that there are students still roaming the grounds and might see the two of you, but as every interaction you’d held with him thus far, Professor Tovar dominates the air around you, not leaving the slightest bit of control in your hands. 

You try your hardest to not let his handling of you affect your heart, but you’re sure he can hear your labored breathing by the time the two of you make it to his office. Whereas you would have found any excuse to not remain in the same room as him alone weeks ago, you now push your body closer to him, clutching onto his arms for dear life as he leads you through the corridors and into the privacy of his teaching rooms. He sits you down on one of the chairs before walking over to his desk, and you take the chance to breathe in deeply without being affected by the deep, musky scent of him engulfing you. 

You’re about to apologize for losing control again when he struts back towards you, dragging a chair directly in front of you and grabbing your chin to raise your head. You swallow down whatever clumsy words were about to fill the air, and Professor Tovar frowns at the minute shift in your expression. He studies your eyes for a second longer than necessary before he opens the vial he brought from his desk and brings it to your nose. 

You have the urge to cough as soon as the scent floods your senses, but the Professor doesn’t let you move away from it, forcing you to remain still as he holds it right underneath your nose until it is no longer a disturbingly-strong smell but a welcomed distraction to your otherwise frenzied thoughts. When your breathing calms down, Professor Tovar moves away from you and relaxes back into his chair, rubbing his temple furiously as he looks into your eyes one last time and sighs heavily. 

“Must I beg for you to stop calling me that?”

His voice thunders through the walls, and you avoid looking at Professor Longbottom, afraid you’ll find nothing but pity in his eyes. You’re not sure how long the argument lasts, but you know it was long enough for the important figures within the paintings and photographs littered across the room to leave. It’s a strange occurrence, one that you cannot help but giggle over. The mere fact that those around the walls felt sorry for you enough to leave the room is rather humorous, and you clasp your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise, afraid that Neville might misunderstand your reaction and turn against you as well. 

The faux silence of the room is cut abruptly when the doors of the office swing open and the Headmistress of Hogwarts walks out. You look upon Professor Mcgonagall and watch as she tries to form a response in her mind that offends neither you nor her friend whom she just had a “fascinating” discussion with. 

“You must understand, it is out of my hands.” You are aware that is as close to an apology as you will receive from her, and you don’t fault her for not being more forward with the gesture. The last thing you’d want is to form a rift between colleagues, friends even. 

“I know Professor. I would never hold you accountable for another’s...beliefs.” The smile you send her is as subtle as what is in between the lines, and she nods once before walking away, requesting for Neville to join her and leave you to sort out the unavoidable predicament between yourself and the man holding the key to all of your answers. Taking in a deep breath, you gather whatever courage still remaining in your body and make your way into the office of the man who spent the last ten minutes cursing your existence. 

You hover at the entrance, knowing that any wrong move might cause your life’s work to come tumbling down. 

“Professor Tovar, do I have permission to enter your office?” You ask once, words chosen carefully and tone passive enough to not terrify him but assertive enough to let him know you, very much, heard everything he said about you, and your kind. 

You half expected him to curse you, perhaps even go as far as send you flying away from his office with a spell you would have not seen coming. You even prepare your body for whatever repercussions he may force upon you, a judgment unfair to you but justified in his eyes.

But he does none of the things you imagined, and instead, nods for you to enter before slamming the door shut behind you. Neither of you say anything as you stand there in the middle of the room filled with nothing but rage and disgust. His eyes are not nearly as fearful and angry as you expected them to be, and for a moment, you think you may have disarmed him by your lack of a reaction to his offensive words. But the hate you heard spewed about you not ten minutes prior makes itself known in the form of a judgemental gaze. 

“Maybe you can fool them, but I know what you are.” He breaks the silence soon after, his words somehow hurting far worse than any spell he may have thrown at you, even more than what he’s called you before. You’re near tears, but you stand your ground nonetheless, not wanting to show him a sliver of weakness. 

“And what would that be, Professor?” Your question comes out a little more aggressive than you intend, but you don’t bother apologizing for your tone, once again refusing to let him think he can gain the upper hand on you forcefully. 

“Someone that cannot be trusted.” He hisses the sentiment, and you don’t miss the way his frown deepens further at your lack of a reaction. 

“That’s a shame, I really was looking forward to working with you.” You turn your gaze to the ground, hoping your body language conveys that you mean him no harm. 

“Think again sirena.” The nickname is laced with nothing but malice, and you crack an irritated smile when you look up again and see him pouting his lips at you in disgust. 

“What can I do to remedy this…unfortunate opinion of me?” You take a deep breath and will yourself to remain calm and collected, praying to whatever higher power exists that he can see how docile and harmless you are.

“Nothing.”

The single word pisses you off more than everything he’s said thus far, and although you know you should think twice before doing anything that worsens the situations, you don’t bother keeping yourself in check and react to the first thought that comes to mind. 

“Hmm, in that case, I do apologize for what I’m about to do Professor.” It’s the only warning he has before you whip out your wand and swing it in the air. His eyes widen at the sudden motion,  but he doesn’t bring out his wand. You file that somewhere in the back of your mind to thin over later, and narrow your eyes at him before turning around. 

“Accio Veritaserum.” As soon as the spell is said, Professor Tovar is stepping into your space to try and stop you from doing what you’re about to do. 

“Stop!” The order is furious, but you pay him no mind as you take the last few steps towards his desk and pour the potion into a glass of water. You shut the vile when you’re done, setting it aside as you swirl the liquid you’re about to drink while maintaining eye contact with him. 

“There, three drops should do it if I remember correctly.” You’re not sure if he’s angry because of your disrespect of his space or because he knows that he should try harder to stop you from drinking the truth serum, but you pay him no mind as you throw back the glass of water and drink it in one go. 

“Idiota, use of this serum is strictly forbidden.” He walks towards you and grabs the vile, pushing it into his pockets before staring dead into your eyes. You try not to let the reality of your actions get into your head, but as the Professor studies you closely, you realize you’d just given him the upper hand completely. He can learn so much from you about your kind now, and you wouldn’t be able to stop him from doing serious harm. 

Then you remember what Neville said of him, and you will your heart to be at ease. 

“Ask away.” You grunt as the effects of the serum wash over you, and when he doesn’t so much as breathe another word, you take a few seconds to collect your bearings before looking into his gaze to try and maintain whatever fake control you thought you still have on the situation. 

“Ask your questions, Professor. My family history is clearly distressing to you, but I cannot return to The Ministry of Magic without an answer to my theories. So whether you like it or not, we must work together for the sake of our world.” You break the silence, and you’re sure he can till you’re immensely annoyed by the escalation of the conversation. His eyebrows furrow one last time before you watch his body visibly relax, and you almost flinch when he steps back and walks around his desk to sit on his chair. 

“Ask your questions, Professor Tovar.” You say one last time as he takes a seat and motions for you to do the same. 

“It w-wouldn’t be appropriate.” You avoid looking into his eyes, afraid the deep brown shade would convince you otherwise. Thinking he will let it go, you look at the desk holding your books to distract yourself from the sudden intimacy of the air. 

“And if I tell you I long to hear you call for me…not even then?” He leans forward, reaching over and slipping his hand into your own before slowly dragging it to his lips. You watch as he lays the softest of kisses against your wrist, breath hitching in your throat when he parts his lips and nips at the skin above your elevated heartbeat. 

“Pe…Pero,” the man growls when he hears you moan his name, and before you can take your hand back, let alone ask him about the sudden interest in you, Pero slips his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. You crash against him, barely managing to support yourself so you don’t slip from his lap and onto the ground. 

“Mi bruja, why do you torture me so?” Pero reaches forward but stops himself before he does something neither of you could return back from. His mouth hovers over your own, the two of you breathing the air leaving the others’ lungs as if your life depended on it. Your eyes flutter nervously when you see his dilated pupils begging for you to end his misery. 

So much has transpired in the past few weeks, and you try to place when it all changed, but you know you wouldn’t be able to find the moment when his hatred for you turned into shameless desire, one you could practically taste on your tongue now. 

“Pero…you- you must know that this is because…it’s- it can’t be you.” He huffs out a chuckle, one you’re sure is at his own expense and not your own, and when you try to leave his arms, he keeps his hold on your and refuses for you to leave him. 

“Believe me, I have thought of it all.” 

“Then you know what you must do.” Your breath is shaky, even more so than your advice to him, but as always, Pero surprises you by shaking his head and clutching your waist tightly. 

“I would very much like to kiss you.” His request is whispered against the corner of your lips, and your heart skips a beat at the prospect of finally feeling this man claim your skin.

“Pero…please.” The plea is nothing but a whimper, and you shut your eyes as you lean forwards to give him what he wants, but Pero slips his hand into your hair and drags you away from him. You snap your eyes open and instantly look into his own when you feel the pain expand across the back of your skull. 

“No…you- you must have not heard me well.” He clears his throat and clenches his jaw tightly when he feels you attempt to break from his hold and move forward again. 

“I did…I did Pero. Please, kiss me.” 

“You know what will happen if I do.” It’s not a question, more of a warning really, and you swallow the lump in your throat when you realize what he’s worried about, why he’s so reluctant to follow through with his desires. 

“Yes.” It’s as firm an answer as you can give, and you watch as understanding dawns on him of what your reply implies. 

“What is your age?” You should have guessed this would be his first question, and your attention remains solely on his expression, not wanting to miss a single muscle twitch in case his intentions turn for the worse. 

“Interesting that this would be the first thing you wish to learn about me. By my family’s years, I am at the beginning of the third stage of growth, which, as I am sure you are familiar, puts others at a great disadvantage when I remain in their vicinity for long periods of time.” You don’t falter in your response, knowing that any slight hesitation would mean you’re attempting to lie to him. When he says nothing else, you continue stating the obvious, knowing that he may think you’re trying to avoid the real reason behind his need to know your age. 

“It also puts me in danger since my…abilities are at their most potent, and many bounties would do anything to acquire me.” You know he doesn’t particularly care for whether or not you’re in danger, but you mention it regardless, hoping he can see that you don’t mind sharing such knowledge with him. 

“Have you ever used your voice on another?”

There it is. 

“Never. Neither have I given any part of me to anyone.” Again, you know you need only answer according to the question, but you want him to see that you are willingly cooperating with him, and that he should at least try to be as courteous to you as you are with him. 

“There are enough dangers in this world as is.” You whisper the sentiment and watch as his expression shifts minutely. Perhaps you found something to agree on after all. 

“Where is your family?” It’s a dangerous question, one you know will lead to another one that may put an end to the conversation, but you respond anyway. You had no other choice. 

“None survived the Second Wizarding War. I am the only one who remains from them.” If he notices the hint of melancholy in your tone, he says nothing of it and instead waits a little while longer before he follows with another inquiry. 

“Who raised you then?”

“A pair of muggles in the Southern part of the Red Sea Governorate.” It’s the first time you see him raise his eyebrows in curiosity rather than anger, but the gesture is gone as soon as it makes an appearance, and you turn away to avoid his gaze. 

“That would put you near salty waters…which of the sea families do you belong to?” It was an inevitable question, one you wished he wouldn’t ask, and when you halt on answering him, his whole body becomes rigid again, sitting up slightly in his chair in preparation for you attempting to lie to him. 

“You refuse to answer.”

“N-no, it is not that I refuse. It is that your hatred of me will increase when I do answer your question.” You rub your eyes nervously, unsure of what his response will be when he finds out what family you come from. You wipe the corners of your mouth and stare at the ceiling to try and find courage etched somewhere above. 

“I come from fresh waters, from the Family of Rivers…so that makes me a descendent of Achelous and Melpomene.” You let your words sink in, continuing to study the space above you for a short while before forcing yourself to hold contact with his eyes once more. 

“You…you are a descendent of the River god?” His voice shakes at the knowledge you’ve just bestowed upon him so simply, and when his shock subsides, you nod at him and break the newly awkward air filling the room. 

“Yes.” It’s a reluctant admission, and you watch as he comes to terms with what you’re capable of. 

“Mi río,” Pero growls into your neck, smiling to himself when he feels you shake in his arms as he nips across your heated skin and leaves a trail of wet kisses over every inch of you he touches. The harder he bites into your skin, the tighter you clutch onto him, and when you think you can’t take it any longer, he tugs onto your hair until your eyes flutter open and look into his own. 

“Please Pero.” You whine one last time, hoping that he’d finally follow through with this request and claim you. 

“Give me your mouth querida!” His words shoot straight to your core, and your stomach twists and turns as soon as he pushes forward and traces his lips over your mouth teasingly before swallowing your surprised gasp. You melt into his arms, not bothering to fight for any control as you feel his tongue explore your mouth. Pero tilts his head to the side and moves you to do the same, deepening the kiss further until you’re completely at the mercy of his hold. 

When the need for air becomes unbearable, Pero breaks the intimate moment but doesn’t move too far, waiting until you catch your breath before he claims your mouth again. Before you know it, Pero is standing and taking you along with him, not caring for how aggressive he’s being as he pushes you backward until you hit one of the desks. He leans over you until you’re laying on the table, pushing your thighs wide open to make space for himself and move closer to you. 

“Oh fuck…Pero, you-” 

“That’s it sweet one, call for me.” His voice is laced with lust and danger, a combination you often feared from those who’ve come to know you, but you find yourself unnaturally comfortable beneath him. You throw your head back and moan his name over and over again, dragging your fingers across his arms to his shoulders until you sink your sharp nails into his neck to pull him further into you. 

Pero takes one last look at you, and in a moment of weakness, he slithers his hands across the front of your shirt, and grabs the top of your clothes, unable to hold back from ripping the flimsy fabric down the center and letting it fall away to reveal your skin. You don’t dare look at him, knowing that you will be weak underneath the intensity of his gaze. Pero must read your thoughts because he trails his hands roughly across your nude skin to your neck, silently asking you to meet his eyes. You meet them reluctantly, parting your lips to call for him, only to be stopped by a hand wrapping around your jugular until he has your undivided attention. Your eyes glaze over in ecstasy, and you think that Pero is closing the space to taste you again. 

But instead, he bites down onto the top of your breasts and chuckles devilishly when you twitch against him. 

“Sing for me, cariño.” The request snaps you out of your trance, and you look down to gauge his reaction, perhaps see if he is aware of what he just said to you. 

“And you have never used your voice? Not once?” Even though he knows you cannot lie, the tone of his voice is strictly distrusting, and you sigh tiredly when you realize his inquiries would only increase in aggressiveness now that he knows where you come from. 

“No, nor do I plan on using it. Ever.” You answer immediately, not wanting to leave any room for misunderstandings should you think over your response. 

“What is the true reason behind your visit?” You didn’t expect him to ask you such a question, mostly because you knew the Headmistress had already spoken with him. Still, you continue to humor him for the sake of your goal. 

“I wish to find a way to render sirens powerless…when their abilities have been used on another at least.” He doesn’t bother hiding his reaction, and you feel judged when you notice his expression shift more negatively, as if he wouldn’t be the first to cheer over such a possibility. 

“You seek a poison upon your kind?” You wince at his choice in words, and he must notice how uncomfortable you become because he turns his attention away from him, almost as if he was thinking of apologizing but didn’t want to follow such a thought through. 

“No, not a poison…a way for those of us still alive to have a choice.” You snap at him unintentionally, shaking your head and hiding the hurt swimming in your eyes behind your hands when you look up and see a hint of pity in his own.

“A choice in what?” For the first time since you’ve had the pleasure of speaking with him, Professor Pero Tovar is tame, deferential even. You don’t count on it lasting though and you take a few seconds to collect your thoughts before sitting up and facing him head on. 

“To keep our abilities or our lives. If there is ever to be another war, I- I feel it is better for us to survive without our powers than to die while being used to force more evil into this world.” He nods passively, standing abruptly and walking along his book case until he’s on the other side of the room. When he turns around, he finds you staring intently at him, and you think for a moment that his chest fills with pride at the prospect of having your undivided attention. But you brush the thought aside, knowing there is no chance in this lifetime for this man to ever think well of you. 

“And why come to me?” He pushes his hands into his pockets, leaning against his bookcase as he shrugs his shoulders and waits for you to give him a good enough reason to be in your vicinity for the foreseeable future. 

“Several mutual friends suggested your name when they learned of my goals. They told me you are arguably the best in this field…defensive potions I mean.” You know the compliment won’t remotely affect him, but a part of you prays he’s as vain as any other man, if only so you can take such a route should he agree to helping you. 

“And how long do you plan on staying?” The air about him is much different than a few minutes ago, and you take the chance to approach him so he can see the genuine need you have for him to work with you. 

“Until I am successful in my endeavors…which I will never find if you refuse to help me.” He turns away then, tapping his shoes against the ground lightly as he thinks over every answer you’ve given him thus far. The silence stretches far too long to your liking and you close the gap between the two of you, trying your hardest to meet his gaze so he can see that your goals are strictly honorable. 

“Please Professor Tovar, I will do anything you ask. I will take this serum each day if it makes you more comfortable around me. I will ask Professor Garrin to put a silencing spell upon me so I am incapable of speaking or- or singing.” You swallow the last bit of your pride, telling him that you’re willing to put up with a great deal just to have a bit of his time for the next few months. You hope this is enough for him to believe your intentions, that he won’t use your nature against you. 

The sentiment must shock him a great deal because he stands to his full height and fingers his palms nervously while roaming his eyes over your features. An hour ago, you would have thought he is attempting to size you up, see how much power he’d need to exert to establish his control over your person. But the way he studies you now is completely different, as if he was trying to convince his mind to no longer look for any malicious intent within your words. 

“You would willingly subject yourself to such means?”

“Without a second thought. I need this solution, Professor. I need it.” You reply immediately, furrowing your eyebrows in an attempt to control yourself from jumping to conclusions and thinking he’s agreeing to your request. 

“And you will grant me anything for my cooperation.” The exclamation catches you off guard, but you gulp down whatever fear you have from such a statement and let him know that you would happily meet his terms. 

“If it is within my ability and does not go against my beliefs, yes.”

Professor Tovar takes a deep breath, and without wasting another moment, lets you know exactly what he wants from you. 

“I ask for a single kiss.”

“You have grown silent. Do I take that as a refusal?” Had you not been looking dead into his eyes, you would have thought he was smiling at your expense, or maybe feeling proud at how unsettled he managed to make you in the blink of an eye. You gulp down the terror and panic threatening to take over your soul, and with the knowledge that you didn’t have any way to tell half a truth, you muster up every ounce of courage remaining in your blood before responding to him. 

“No…no I just- there is no way for me to know if you will not do anyone harm when you gain such a valuable skill.” You don’t look elsewhere, afraid he’d use your momentary lapse to his advantage and make matters worse. Professor Tovar doesn’t so much as blink, his expression turning from one of distrust to complete and utter curiosity. You don’t understand why such a shift becomes until he speaks the next few words. 

“So it is true then.” 

“What?” You tilt your head to the side, unsure of where his line of thinking was taking the two of you. Up until a second ago, you thought you needed to find some way of letting him know that this wasn’t an easy request for you, and you were already going as far as trying to figure out how you can convince him that you couldn’t just grant him such a wish. 

“A siren’s kiss can allow you to breathe underwater.”

It dawns on you that he just managed to fool you into admitting something only your kind knew to be true, and what others have spent their entire lifetimes attempting to learn if there is any truth to such a legend. 

But it wasn’t a myth. It was true. And you had just accidentally revealed it to a man who could use this information for his own good. Against you. 

“I- that’s not what I…oh god. What have I done?” You take a few steps back, clasping your hand over your mouth to refrain from crying out in front of him. A thousand scenarios flood your mind, leaving you wondering how long it would take for the rest of the magical world to learn of the value of your kind. You were already hunted for so many things—your tears, your scales, your blood—and this was going to make matters worse, much worse. 

The things that could be done with such a gift. 

“Relax bruja, I have no wish to share such knowledge with anyone.” He must have seen the anxiety overtaking you because he leans into your space to whisper into your ears as he makes his way back to his desk. And although you know he is probably not lying to you, you are still aware of the dangers of what he now knows. There were many ways to learn of this secret, and not all of them were consensual. 

“But you know…you- you know. It does not matter whether you choose to tell another or not. If- if word gets out, if someone forces you to speak of my kind…we are done for.” You rest your weight onto the shelf of the bookcase in front of you, no longer able to think of a single coherent thought now that your plans were ruined over a simple mistake on your part. 

“Do you trust me?”

“I- I was told I can.” You furrow your eyebrows at him, following his every move as he takes out the potion in his pocket and puts it back on the shelf behind him. 

“Hmm, there is a reason this serum is not used so carelessly.” Professor Tovar breaks the growing silence, and you’re shocked to find him grinning at you for a moment before returning to his seat once more. 

“If you do not wish for others to find your potions so easily, perhaps you should hide them better…and a protection spell or two would not hurt.” You know you should watch your tongue, especially since you were still sure he wasn’t planning on aiding you in your research. 

“It is not necessary.” He raises a curious eyebrow at your retort, the smirk on his handsome features remaining for another moment before it becomes a distracting pout once again. 

“Is it not?”

“No one would ever dare to seek a potion master’s work. No one who wishes to remain alive at least.” 

Although his voice is not remotely threatening, the hair on the back of your neck rises at the prospect of what he could mean by such dangerous words. 

“Is that a threat Professor?” As hard as you will your body to remain still, you can’t control it from taking a step back when he leans forward and crosses his hands in front of him. 

“No. It is not.” It comes as a shock to you how easily his curt reply calms your nerves, ones that have been on high alert before you walked into his office. It was a strange feeling, to be comforted by the one who’s been causing you anxiety for the past hour or so. You don’t know what else to say to him now, so you opt to remain quiet, hoping he can continue to lead the conversation and veer it somewhere less intense than where it is now. 

Professor Tovar motions towards the chair in front of him, not saying another word until you walked back towards him and sat down. You inhale deeply, mulling over everything that’s transpired between yourself and the man in front of you. Resting your back against the chair, you cross your legs and fold your arms together, all the while coming to terms with how unproductive your visit to the castle was turning out to be. 

“I need to ask you one last question.” He sighs heavily as he offers you a final claim, one that would have set your heart rate running had you not already come to terms with your failure to convince him of your plans.

“Go ahead, it’s not as if I’m not in harm’s way already.” 

It’s clearly not the answer he expects, and the careless air about you must make him uncomfortable because he grimaces irritatingly and clenches his fists tightly in an attempt to control his reaction to your dismissive statement.  

“What do you value more? Your life, or your abilities.”

“I- I do not know. I never used them, and apart from being able to breathe underwater, I never truly felt any connection to my family. But when my parents told me of how I came to them, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed. My parents, the biological ones I mean…they tried to help the only way they knew how during the war, but what good did that do them? They left me alone in this world, and although I would not take back a moment with the ones who raised me, I cannot ignore my anger.” You couldn’t quite make eye contact with him, unsure of how he would take your confession and whether or not you’d find his reaction to your liking. 

“And when I started this journey, I thought I had made a decision. I would give up my abilities to keep my life as peaceful as possible. But when I got closer to an answer, when I was told there is someone who would be able to help me, I became confused. I value my life, and if there ever comes a time when I would have my own family, my own little ones running around, I would give up those abilities in an instant. I would not wish for them to go through life the way I have.” His question is general enough for you to be as vague as possible in your answer, so you’re not sure why you’re suddenly offering him an answer as intimate as the knowledge he’s come about because of you. The last thing you expected was to ever open up to someone about your personal ordeals, let alone a person as judgemental as the professor. You don’t need to continue, but you feel like you owe him an explanation as to why you’re willing to go through such means to get what you want. 

“But then I thought about it longer, and it occurred to me that I may be disrespecting my parents’ honor…their heritage…for selfish reasons. They left me alone in this life for the sake of the world’s safety. They were so selfless, and- and I do not wish to disappoint them by giving up what they gave me…the only true thing that connects me to them.” If your admissions hold any effect on him, he hides it pretty well, not daring to break your line of thought as he listens attentively to everything you have to say. 

“So…I do not know Professor Tovar. I do not know. Perhaps I will once it becomes a reality, but perhaps I will choose my biology instead. I do not think I will truly know what I want unless it is in the palm of my hand.”

The man in front of you says nothing, and you take it as a sign of his continued refusal to help you. Knowing there is nothing else to be said or done, you nod your head several times at him before standing up and walking towards the door to his office. 

“Forgive me for taking up so much of your time. I- I will see myself out.”

You get a hold of the doorknob, but as you twist it to leave, Professor Tovar blurts out something you were convinced he wouldn’t ever say to you. 

“I will help you.”

“I will help you…so you can have your choice.” You should have noticed it earlier, his accent that is, but you must have been caught up in the tense atmosphere surrounding him that you didn’t notice the melodious tone of his voice, the little pauses he took before he said something deemed “difficult.”

“What- what do you wish for in return?” You didn’t want to be so distrustful, but his perspective changed several  times throughout your little chat that you couldn’t rely on a single confession said after you’ve practically poured your heart out to him. 

“Nothing.” You stare at him, shocked at the dramatic turn of events. He must sense your reluctance in believing him because he rubs his beard nervously before repeating his earlier words again. 

“I want nothing in return.” His voice is even calmer, and you look to the side to mull over how to properly respond to him. 

“If we are to create such a serum, that will be my reward.” That catches your attention immediately, and you narrow your eyes at him in wariness. Of course he’d want to take the credit for such a serum. 

“You wish for your name to be associated with this potion?” The question is neutral, at least you thought it was, but the way Professor Tovar cringes and pouts lets you know otherwise. Perhaps you should have chosen better words after all. 

“No, I wish to go to sleep at night knowing there is now a cure for what killed my sister.” The silence that follows his confession is deafening, and you can’t help the tears forming in your eyes as you look into his gaze and keep it much longer than deemed professional. The deep shade of his orbs softens when he notices a trail of droplets streaming down your cheeks. He shakes his head as he hands you his handkerchief, nodding at you to take it and wipe your skin. 

“Do not waste your tears. They are far too valuable to be shed on a memory of one you do not know.” There is something different about him now, almost as if he was met with the opposite of what he expected to see. You furrow your eyebrows, not once turning away from him as you reach out to hand him back his handkerchief. He shakes his head then, and sits back down. 

“I think it best if you kept that.” You know what the gesture means, and you want to thank him for being so considerate, but the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a whispered apology, one you’re not sure whether you said it regarding his sister or this whole conversation. 

“I am sorry.” 

“There are some things you should know.” You tilt your head to the side quizzically, watching him as he writes down several things on a piece of parchment, all the while continuing to tell you the steps he will need to take throughout the next few weeks. 

“Yes?”

“For us to achieve anything, you will need to part with many parts of yourself. Your hair, your tears, your blood…perhaps maybe your scales. I will never be left in the room alone with anything that belongs to you, to ensure your comfort of course.” Somewhere deep in your mind, you know what he says to be true. You should have expected such steps even, but as he mentions what he’ll need from you, particularly your scales, you begin to feel a little faint, not because you don’t trust him, but because apart from your parents, you have never once shifted in front of another. 

“I see.”

“And if circumstances call for it, you will need to use your abilities on another…so we know whether this potion functions properly or not.” You make a note to thank him later for halting in his requests to give you some time to take it all in.

“And that is necessary?” You already know the answer to your question, but you want to hear him agree regardless, out of fear of any misunderstanding that may take place. 

“To be sure of the serum’s capacity? Yes.” Your thoughts are incoherent, and you are aware that your facial expression is probably reflecting the sudden unease settling into your chest. If Professor Tovar notices your erratic breathing, he says nothing of it and stands from his desk, folding the paper several times before handing it to you. You take it without another word, mustering up whatever energy still left in your body before you stand and head towards the office door. 

“Think on it, and when you are positive you wish to continue, we will begin.” He says right as you walk out the room into the lecture hallway. You turn around and nod briefly at him before continuing forwards, trying your hardest to not spiral into your thoughts now that you know there is a chance you could fulfill your goal. 

In the midst of it all, you find yourself at the entrance to your quarters. Had you been yourself, you would have marveled at the hallways, and the paths leading to your room, but you weren’t aware of much outside of your mind. And as you enter your room, you’re met with a silence that is eerily comforting to your otherwise anxious spirit. Without thinking much of what you’re doing, you walk towards the window and look out towards the forest, rubbing your temples furiously when you make out the edge of the Black Lake beneath the castle. 

So much has happened, and the confirmation Professor Tovar has given you before you left his office should have put you at ease, but there was still the matter of his knowledge of your little secret. 

You walk away from the window and pace around the room, trying to figure out what would happen if word got out. You were already in danger as is, and the world has come to a point where it no longer cares for the well-being of others, but only the self. 

As you sift through several scenarios, you notice something moving from your peripheral vision. Without alerting the presence in your room, you take your wand out and slowly turn around to face the intruder, only to part your lips in awe at the sight in front of you. 

There, standing in the middle of your room by the window, struts a beautiful patronus, one of a beast you saw a few hours earlier for the first time. You watch as it kicks twice before lowering its head and shaking it at you, letting you know that it meant you no harm. Slowly, so as to not scare it away from you, you walk towards it with your hand held up, wanting to see if it would take those last few steps towards you or not. 

It doesn’t take too long for it to come to you, and you smile at the creature when it flutters its wings and stands just beneath your hand. 

A faint voice emitting from the patronus makes you flinch, but you stand your ground, marveling at the way the beast seems to recognize the hint of fear in your eyes.

“No one will learn what I know. I made sure of it.”

You know that voice. You’ve spoken with its owner for the better part of the night. 

Gods above, this was his patronus. 

There is so much you wish to understand, the first of which is why his patronus is an animal associated with grief and solitude. You get the sense that it may be because of his sister, but you can’t be too sure considering how little he told you of her. It’s almost as if it was a slip of the tongue and he never meant to mention her. 

You snap out of your thoughts when you notice the thestral drawing a pattern on the ground, one you couldn’t quite place since it disappeared right away. It continues to create the same pattern over and over again, and it’s only when it leans down and points at your wand while drawing the pattern that you realize what it is trying to tell you. 

You step away from the beast, heart rate rocketing through the roof at the realization of what this man just did, willingly, for you. 

“You understand what I mean of course.”

You hear his voice once more, and even though you know he’s not physically there to see you agreeing to him, you nod your head and kneel down so you can be face-to-face with the thestral. It’s almost as if a weight has been lifted off your shoulders, and even though you know Professor Tovar to be an honest man, a respectable one as well, you can’t help but wonder whether he was telling you the truth. 

One look into the thestral’s eyes and you know that he was incapable of lying to you about something so important, so vital to your safety. 

He may be resentful and filled with fear over your presence, but with the way the beast was seeking your touch, you know that he was not the sort of man to gamble with your life. 

You smile at the winged-animal, and pet its head, giggling to yourself when it lays down right away and rests its head into your lap. 

Hmm, who knew patronuses were so affectionate. 

“Rest easy.”