#//It's a sin how comfortable they make those chairs though

[ramshacklestar]

Falling asleep and waking up in a gaming chair instead of on the bed...

Vibe.

I've said it once I'll say it again, occ me is Idia 😂

[pascaloverx]

HAUNTED

Summary: You awaken from a two-year coma to find that Detective Lois has been eagerly awaiting your recovery, believing you might have witnessed something crucial to catching a serial killer. What you didn’t expect is to learn that she suspects your doctor of being the murderer—and even more shockingly, it appears that you are married to him. Now, you must uncover your lost memories and find out who Charlie Mayhew truly is to you.

Author's Note: Yes, I'm writing another fanfic featuring Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s character from Grotesquerie. The characters belong to the universe created by Ryan Murphy in the series Grotesquerie (2024). This fanfic will include violence, strong language, and adult content. It will portray the character Charlie Mayhew as a doctor. I hope you enjoy the fanfic, but there's nothing certain about its future. If there's no interest, unfortunately, I will be abandoning the idea.

AO3 LINK ONE

© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.

PREVIEW

Strange noises surround you, and the brightness stings your eyes, but you want to wake up. In the distance, you hear a woman shouting for a nurse to come help. Is she a relative? A friend? You wish you knew. You feel connected to machines, surrounded by tubes, which nearly makes you gag. “Don’t pull on any of the wires attached to you. A nurse will be here to help you. My name is Lois Tryon. Detective Lois Tryon.” The woman speaks, trying to sound gentle but coming off as forced. She smells of cigarettes and alcohol. You remain silent, motionless. You don’t want to die—even though you don’t even know who you are.

"How long have I been here, Detective Tryon?" you murmur with some difficulty. There might be other important questions, but right now, this is the only one you need answered.

"About two years," she says, sounding almost excited about your recovery. A medical team enters your hospital room, adjusting and checking your body as if you were a doll—a sensation that’s starting to make you feel nauseous. The detective vanishes amidst the medical team as they check your reflexes, vital signs, temperature, and run several other clinical tests that will apparently tell them how you’ve woken up and if you’re truly all right.

Everything felt so secretive, with nurses whispering as if you couldn’t hear them. Two doctors were even debating whether they should tell you something or not. They decided to wait for Dr. Mayhew, whoever he might be. After a while, you drifted off to sleep, still waiting for them to explain what was going on. You had the same dream as before—a strikingly attractive man dressed as a priest making you kneel, asking for forgiveness for some unnamed sin. What stood out was how he always touched your face gently, saying that if you truly sought forgiveness for what you had done, you would have to accept your punishment. Then you would start taking off your clothes for him. The man dressed as a priest would then put you between his legs and spank you. He used to ask if you would be a good girl for him, and when you answered; he would whisper to you to take responsibility for what you did. And then you found yourself surrounded by blood and corpses, like a nightmare.

This time, you opened your eyes, letting out an almost desperate cry. There are fewer tubes attached to you, fewer wires surrounding you. There’s also a doctor—a different one from those who tended to you before. He’s lying back, asleep in a chair that doesn’t look at all comfortable. You wonder if it’s common for doctors to fall asleep beside their patients or if you’re getting special treatment due to the time you’ve been unconscious. The doctor is strikingly handsome. He looks exhausted, with dark circles under his eyes and his breathing deep and steady. Perhaps that’s why he didn’t wake at your cry.

You try to get up, nearly falling back at the sudden motion, but on the second attempt, you manage with some difficulty. Unsteady, you grab one of the spare blankets at the foot of your hospital bed and gently drape it over him. But there’s something peculiar—you feel as if you’ve seen him before. You move closer, laying your fingers lightly on the warm skin of his hand. His hair falls messily over his face, obscuring your view. Then you recognize him: the slightly wicked priest from your dreams, too alluring to be a saint, who meted out your penance. Yet something within you stirs, as if he holds a deeper meaning, something that seduces and captivates you. You touch the scar on his forehead, feeling a surge of electricity ripple through your body.

Then he grasps your hand, pulling you down onto his lap, where you land anyway. You’re silent for a moment, staring at him. “You used to brush my hair away from my face whenever you wanted to tell me something embarrassing,” he says, his voice close to yours, a sly smile playing on his lips as he settles you in his lap. “You’d say that if you focused on my scar, you wouldn’t feel so shy talking to me.” You’re surprised, but you don’t move. Something about being close to him feels familiar, leaving your body unresponsive in his presence.

“I imagine you don’t speak like that to all your patients, Doctor…” you say, trying to keep a serious tone as you study the face of the man whose lap you’re seated on. He chuckles, clearly amused. “Dr. Mayhew to some, Charlie to others. But to you, I’m husband.”

The words startle you, and you jump off his lap, steadying yourself on the hospital bed. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” you ask, bewildered. You’re married?

“I know this might be difficult to understand, but we are married. Don’t feel pressured to remember—it’s all right…” he murmurs, rising from the chair and moving toward you. His calm tone, almost as if he’s trying to make you feel safe, is surprisingly comforting. Your gaze falls to his hands as they reach out to you, but you instinctively move to the opposite side of the bed.

“I’m sorry, but there must be some mistake. You can’t be married to me. Your face looks like it stepped right out of a magazine. I can barely believe you’re a doctor, let alone my husband. If this is a joke, know that it’s unfair to mock someone who doesn’t even know her own name,” you say, sounding slightly indignant. But honestly, what are the odds he’s really your husband?

Dr. Mayhew laughs, a sound both frustrated and enchanted. He runs a hand through his hair as if searching for patience. “It’s funny you’d say that. When we first met, you called me a ‘Ken wannabe.’ Later, you swore you hadn’t fallen for me because of my looks. When you remember that, I’ll be sure to remind you of it,” he says, his gaze deep and searching, as if his eyes are speaking more than his words.

“If you’re my husband, then tell me something only you would know about me!” you exclaim before he can come any closer. Your hands are trembling—whether from the intensity of his stare or some other reason, you’re not sure.

"You like to fuck when you're stressed, usually you prefer me to fuck you from behind but when you're pissed off, you bounce on me like there's no tomorrow. You don't like to feel pressure so I personally think you married me not because I'm handsome but because I let you be in charge. When I asked you to marry me, you broke up with me. You thought I was rushing things, and you couldn't stand the idea of not being able to give me children. You had two cats when you were younger and you named them 'Beelzebub' and 'Crowley' because your mother was very religious and you never liked her." He seems sincere, even if he's embarrassing you on purpose. It's obvious from the way he talks about your sex life, which you can't even confirm.

“Hold on, Doctor. We both know the sexual details were unnecessary. If I can’t remember other parts of my life, am I really going to remember what our… sex life was like?” you say, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Your hands are beginning to sweat, but you don’t break eye contact with Dr. Mayhew.

“Actually, of all the details I’ve shared, those are the only ones we can test right now,” he says, closing in on you with surprising speed. His gaze is fixed on you, predatory and intent, as though you’re his prey. Strangely, you feel no embarrassment—just a stirring curiosity to uncover this for yourself.

“Do you often suggest casually sleeping with your patients? We are in your workplace, after all,” you say, feigning reprimand, though part of you wonders if he’s ever done this here before.

“I only suggest it to those who are married to me. And honestly,” he says, drawing closer to you, his voice dropping to a whisper, “we’ve done far worse in both our workplaces.” He nods between himself and you, hinting at shared memories. There’s a tension in the air, something almost tangible. You swallow hard, unsure why his closeness doesn’t make you uncomfortable—but rather feels strangely familiar.

“You sound extremely dangerous saying things like that,” you murmur, holding Dr. Mayhew’s gaze as if daring him. For a moment, you think he might close the distance and kiss you—a thought that leaves you unsettled. How should you respond? You’re not even sure if you believe he’s really your husband.

“You were always one to take risks; has amnesia made you forget your true nature?” His fingers trace lightly along your arm, his gaze heavy with desire. He clearly wants you, yet that alone proves nothing. Whoever you once were, in this moment, you feel as though you’re standing bare before him.

"I hope I’m not interrupting the happy couple, but I heard Mrs. Mayhew was awake. I thought I’d finally come to speak with my most anticipated witness. I’ve waited two years for this conversation,” Detective Lois Tryon stands in the doorway of your hospital room, a victorious smile on her face. Dr. Mayhew doesn’t look pleased to see her there. They exchange a tense look, while you remain close to him, caught between their silent standoff.

“I don’t believe it’s appropriate to question my wife mere hours after she’s woken from a two-year coma,” Dr. Mayhew says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “I’m sure you’re aware of her memory issues, Detective Tryon. It would be courteous of you to give her a moment to adjust.” You’re taken aback but stay pressed against his well-defined frame, momentarily wondering if he’s a doctor or a bodybuilder.

“It’s no surprise you don’t think it’s appropriate for me to question your wife,” Detective Tryon replies, her tone laced with sharpness. “I would have to reveal to her that her husband is a primary suspect in a series of murders. That he’s so determined to evade justice he might’ve orchestrated the accident that left her comatose. And that he’s been having an affair with the lead investigator of this case—while she’s been unconscious.” Mayhew tenses, a flicker of fury crossing his face as he grips your waist tighter. You watch as his features contort slightly, weighing the situation. You can’t help but wonder if you’re witnessing an innocent man being falsely accused or a guilty man feeling the noose tighten. For some reason, this only heightens your intrigue in him.

[lavandulawrites]

Undeserving

Yandere Zhongli x reader

Zhongli is definitely a terrifying yandere. (Let me know if anyone wanna be apart of my taglist).

Synopsis: Zhongli takes it upon himself to rid the world of those who sin

Masterlist

Warnings: explicit violence,torn limbs, kinda gory, Zhongli is very possessive, Zhongli is completely feral, reader is not directly involved with any of the violence

Word count: 2223

Zhongli had always seen himself as a reasonable man. Even before he had taken on the name Zhongli. He valued respect and honour. Zhongli had always held a fondness for contracts and their power. He often preferred to negotiate rather than fighting. It was more proper after all.

It was however in moments like this, his polished appearance faltered and revealed the beast within that had slain many.

His glowed fingers loosened his tie before he elegantly slipped off his leather gloves. He placed both his tie and his gloves on the mantle on the unlit fireplace. He slowly turned to face the sinner that sat on his newly bought antique armchair. Zhongli’s skin crawled at the sight of that vermin who had made himself extremely comfortable in his beloved chair.

The man whose name was Haoyu sipped on a cup of pipping hot tea. He showed no care for Zhongli’s possessions and handled the cup with much carelessness.

Zhongli clenched his fists behind his back. Though a dragon was only one of his many forms, his bloodlust was still ever present. His fanged teeth clenched together as he recalled the days he had used those teeth to tear out his enemies throats. No matter what kind of form Zhongli took, his golden reptile like eyes and his long sharp fangs was something he never managed to conceal.

He walked over to the chair which was opposite of Haoyu’s. His steps no different from a stalking predator. With elegance he sat down and crossed his legs. He leaned back in his chair as he picked up his own cup of tea. He inhaled the aroma and sighed him delight at the delicious smell. The tea hot and intense as it filled his throat.

“Do you have any ideas for your brother’s funeral? Or any specific wishes for the ceremony?” he asked the black haired man.

Haoyu rubbed his goatee while he drummed his fingers on the armrest. “I don’t have any specific wishes. I just want to have him buried as fast as possible. I am a busy man you see” his voice had the same pitch as that of an squealing pig.

“I see” Zhongli nodded. “As for payment, the director wants to know when you are able to pay” he continued with an almost bored voice.

“Soon. I just need to make sure my next business deal goes well. So maybe in a week or two. Two is more likely” the bearded man shrugged.

Zhongli’s golden eyes narrowed before he chuckled. “Director Hu Tao needs the payment before Friday, meaning in three days. I have told you so many times” his smiled forced. The director of the funeral parlour was a remarkable young woman. Her youthfulness made Zhongli almost feel young again and he enjoyed her company. He acted as her counsellor and a kind of guardian. Though the guardian part was something that had happened over time.

Zhongli’s appearance was youthful and he looked somewhere in his early to mid thirties. Despite that, his wisdom was greater than all of the elderly in the city combined. He knew that Hu Tao suspected that he wasn’t human, but he never addressed it.

“I don’t think I will be able to” the middle aged man shrugged. He sipped more of his tea and didn’t notice how he spilled some on his shirt.

The former geo archon’s eyes turned cold. His finger stabbing the inside of his palms. “You will have to find a way. We can’t propound the payment any longer.”

Haoyu sighed. “Don’t be so difficult! I’m sure you’ll be able to do something” he winked his goat like eyes at the brunette.

Zhongli felt offended at the ugliness that sat in front of him. “No. I am not able to ‘do something’” his voice monotone. If Zhongli wanted to, he would be able to convince Hu Tao to propound the payment, but he did not feel like doing so.

The man sneered. “Fine” he groaned like the pig he was. He downed the last of his tea and slammed it onto the newly polished mahogany table.

Zhongli’s eyes twitched at the blatantly rudeness. He took a deep breath before he rose to his feet. “I remember I told you about my collection of tableware. I should give you a tour before you leave” he smiled politely at the irritated man.

Haoyu’s frown quickly turned into a smile. “Oh I would love that” he stood up and stretched his limbs, nearly knocking down his teacup from the table.

Zhongli led him to the room where he kept his various collections. Rows upon rows of tea seats filled one of the long walls. Haoyu stopped in front of a delicate purple clay teapot. He lifted it up from its shelf and studied it closely.

Zhongli closed his eyes in annoyance, but continued to play the part of a good host. He showed him his various treasures and Haoyu was overjoyed by the different riches.

Zhongli followed Haoyu out to the hallway. “Before you leave, I want to ask you something” his voice polite.

Haoyu raised an eyebrow. “Alright. Go on.”

Zhongli ignore his rude tone yet again. “I have heard that you are good acquaintances with [Name]” his voice as calm as still water.

The man smirked at his words. “Yeah, you could say that… She’s quite the looker” he laughed. His fat fingers clasped together.

Zhongli reminded silent. He’s face similar to his many statues that were scattered over the country.

At the taller man’s silence, Haoyu raised his brow. “Why are you asking?”

Zhongli walked towards a painting of a bamboo forest. His back facing Haoyu. “I do not like it when people get their greedy hands on what’s mine. It angers me. And very much so” his voice had a sharp edge to it.

He turned slowly to face him. “You are a foul man. You lack both tact and elegance” his diamond shaped pupils small in disgust. He stalked towards him with slow steps.

Haoyu slumped his shoulders at Zhongli’s fury. He gulped loudly as his back hit the wall.

“You are not worthy of [Name’s] presence. She has told me countless times that she finds you revolting” his rage cold in his veins as he looked down at the man who had sinned the greatest sin of all. His cold golden gaze flickered down to the man’s hands. The very hands that had touched his beloved.

“I-I promise to never speak to her or touch her ever again!” Haoyu uttered as he slumped even further together. His legs were shaking in fear.

His stuttering a clear sign of his cowardice and Zhongli found it humorous how his brutish façade was just only that: a façade.

The adeptus�� entire body was filled with the want, need, to spill the blood of the man who had crossed him. He flex his hands along his side and felt the welcoming power of geo that flowed through his veins. He raised his hand in a quick motion as he wrapped it around Haoyu’s neck. He slammed his head against his wall, not caring about his expensive wallpaper.

“All sinners must pay for their sins. You are no different” he spat. Zhongli’s eyes glowed a golden hue which was the main telltale sign of his non-humanity.

Haoyu desperately tried to defend himself, but the strong hand that held his neck only tightened. The sound of his struggling breath was music to his ears.

“Be quiet” was all he said before he dropped the man.

The bearded man quickly crawled towards the front door before Zhongli brought his foot down and kicked him in his ribs. The sound of bones creaking brought a small smile to the former archon’s face.

Haoyu screamed as snoot and tears streamed down his disgusting face. He loudly prayed to be saved by Rex Lapis.

Zhongli scoffed before he brought his foot at the nap of Haoyu’s neck. He pressed down, earning a cry from the black haired man. “Take his name out of your filthy mouth” he sneered.

He manifested his spear and pointed it towards the man who laid in a kneeling position on the floor. The pointed tip, glittering in the light. His polearm had been his trusted companion throughout many years.

“Get up” his tone dominating.

Haoyu scrambled up to his legs and clutched his side in pain. His dark eyes looked up at Zhongli in fear.

Zhongli raised his spear before he brought it down to Haoyu’s left shoulder. The spear pierced his flesh and made contact with the bone. Red blood splattered on the hardwood floor. Haoyu screamed in pain.

“AGH! Fuck! HELP! SOMEBODY HELP!” he screamed as he tried to stop the bleeding with his fat hand.

The brunette laughed at his pitiful cries. “No one will help you. They cannot hear you on the outside” his lips twisted up into a cruel smile. He had used adeptal arts to completely soundproof his home.

He stalked towards his prey and stopped right in front of him. His polished shoes soaking in blood. He sneered in disgust.

He rose his empty hand. His finger tips turned into claws which he used to slash through the neck of the sinner in front of him. Haoyu gurgled on his blood as he desperately clutched his throat. His eyes wet as they pleaded to the god in front of him.

Zhongli brought his bloodied hand before him. Torn skin was attached to his long black claws. He shook his hand and sent the skin flying towards Haoyu.

With a splat the skin landed on his forehead which resulted in him throwing up. Vomit spewed out from his mouth and the gaping hole in his throat. The sight was disgusting and Zhongli felt even more offended. The smell of vomit reached his strong nose and he crushed his inhuman sense of smell.

He reattached his claws and sat his spear neatly against the wall behind him. He crouched down to the dying man’s level. His godly eyes scanning his. “You brought this upon yourself” was all he said.

Long elegant fingers wrapped around Haoyu’s left arm. Zhongli waited till he was sure he was sure he paid attention. He then ripped his arm off with no effort. The tearing sound echoed in the hallway. Blood gushed from the open wound. It was going to be long before he died from blood loss. Zhongli tossed the arm away before he stood up.

“Stand” he commanded.

Haoyu struggled like a newborn fawn, but managed to stand. His appearance similar to that of a mangled corpse than a living human.

Zhongli brought his hand up to his chest. The power of geo poured out from his every pores and onto the man in front of him.

Slowly, but surely his chest turned into stone. Haoyu screamed as loudly as his damaged vocal cords let him. Zhongli was sure to be slow. It was important for him to feel the pain as long as he could.

His harsh eyes met the gaping hole in his throat. Tendons clearly visible. His vocal cords looked rather teared as well as his Adam’s apple which was completely damaged.

“You should apologise for your unkempt appearance” Zhongli had no humanity left in neither his voice nor eyes.

He reattached his hand. He made sure to make proper eye contact with Haoyu before he curled his hand into a fist. His fist drove into his face. Before he knew it, his fist had made a complete hole. Haoyu’s body fell limp against the floor. His face completely gone and replaced by a through hole. Brain matter covered the wall and stained his beautiful wallpaper.

Zhongli scoffed at the mess. He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and willed his hands. Th white pure fabric quickly turned grimy.

He was yet again glad for the adeptal art he was the father off. With a snap of his finger the whole hallway was clean. The hardwood floors no longer coated in warm sticky blood and the wallpaper no longer stained. The body was turned into stone which quickly turned into sand.

He brought a broom and cleaned the sand up.

He would sprinkle the sand in the garden in Haoyu’s family house.

He sat down on his armchair and breathed out. He was content with his work. The only thing missing was you by his side. He picked up the contract he had written. He would encourage you to write your name on it. Then your fate would be sealed and he would finally be able to sleep peacefully with you by his side. With Haoyu and the others who had been close to you out of the picture, it was only the two of you.

Just as it should be.

He took a sip of the rich wine and let the the liquid swirl around in his mouth. A soft smile formed on his lips. He had had the adepti make a beautiful red wedding dress with gold embroidered into the silky fabric. You would make a beautiful bride and he would do everything in order to protect you. He would even take his role as an archon again if the situation called for it.

[xothatnerdykid]

guilty as sin

You're a dedicated nurse who loves their job even when it means taking care of stubborn, battle-worn pro-heroes (or maybe especially then). Aizawa Shouta x gn!reader. Set between S6 & S7. Fluff, slight angst with comfort. SFW, 2k words.

The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air as you walk down the pristine white hallways of Central Hospital. The raid against the Paranormal Liberation Front had left the medical facility overcrowded, understaffed, and bustling with activity. You yourself had been working tirelessly for the last 24 hours straight to care for the numerous injured heroes and civilians. 

Exhaustion weighed heavily on your shoulders, your feet dragging slightly with each step. Your shift was supposed to have ended hours ago, and you were more than ready to clock out and get some much-needed rest. However, there was just one patient left to see.

You knock at the door. 

"Good morning," you greet the man lying down on the bed. You don't have the strength to muster a smile, but that's okay. He doesn't seem to either. 

Instead, he gives you a familiar nod. "Good morning."

He was a brooding, reserved man of a few words. With dark hair and even darker eyes - well, eye, the other being wrapped in bandages - he looked more tired than you some days. You can't fault him for that though. You knew he had been at the front lines of the battle that day and had paid a heavy price for it. 

He sits up as you come closer, approaching his bedside. The room is quiet, save for the soft beeping of the machines monitoring his vitals.

"How are you feeling today?"

He shrugs. "I've been better. I've been worse."

"I can see that," you nod, noting the way his complexion is less pale and his hair less unruly today compared to the past week. You open the blinds for him, warm light streaming into the dim room. “More sunlight ought to be good for you.”

“Mhm,” is all he says, blinking up at the bright, blue sky out the window. 

You take that as your cue to go about your usual tasks silently, adjusting his IV, checking his bandages, writing down his vitals. 

Then, out of the blue, he says, “You’ve been working long hours lately. You should get some rest.” 

"Believe me, I will. Just as soon as you're taken care of first."

"I'm fine,” he responds in a clipped, dismissive tone of voice.

“Fine or not, it's my job to make sure you’re comfortable and healing properly. You went through a lot, losing an eye and a leg. Frankly, I’m not sure we should go through with discharging you tomorrow.”

He heaves a tired sigh, “Like I said, I’ve been better, but I’ve been worse, too.” 

Frowning, you sit down on the bedside chair and take a moment to look at him. Despite his stoic facade, you can see the toll all those years of being a hero have taken on him, especially the past few weeks. The dark circles under his remaining eye, the weary lines and scars etched into his face. The worried, pained look that lingers even when he's trying to relax. 

"You know, it's okay to admit that you're not feeling great. From what I've been told, it seems like you've been through hell and back."

He shrugs again, leaning back against the pillows with a wince that he tries to hide. "It comes with the job. If anyone deserves your concern, it's my students."

“It must be hard, seeing them fight in a war. They’re just children, after all.”

He nods grimly, his mouth a tight line. "And because of this—" he touches the bandages covering his eye "—my quirk is pretty much useless now, especially on the villains we’re up against.”

He doesn't say it, but you can hear it in the tightness of his voice, his clenched jaw, his hands fisting the bedsheet. You know what he really means: “I'm useless now."

You want to reach out to touch him, maybe place your hand atop his, but you're not sure if he'd welcome such a gesture, especially from someone he's only known for a short time. You settle for a few sympathetic words instead, folding your hands in your lap. 

"Aizawa-san, do you honestly think your quirk is the only thing that makes you a hero? You've done so much for your students, for so many people. You're a mentor and a role model to these kids. I'm sure they trust and look up to you more because of this, not less.”

He looks at you for a long moment, that same unreadable expression on his face.

"I appreciate that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t protect them the way I used to."

"Maybe not, but even without your quirk, you have your experience, your wisdom, and a heart that cares deeply for them. That's more than enough."

Instead of responding, he stares silently up at the ceiling. You don't push him, resigning to let the moment simply stretch out. After all, this is the most you've ever talked to him the whole week.

As he gets lost in his thoughts, you find yourself mentally tracing the contours of his face, where the sunlight bathes his skin in a soft, warm glow. It accentuates the strong lines of his jaw, his nose. Softens the look in his dark eyes. 

You take a quiet breath, surprised by the fluttering sensation in your chest. It's an odd time and place to notice something like this, but you can’t deny there's a certain rugged handsomeness to him.

You shift your weight, feeling a little self-conscious about your own thoughts. It’s unprofessional, you chide yourself, to think of a patient this way. But the inexplicable attraction you feel for the man before you is unmistakeable.

Aizawa turns slightly, catching you off guard as his eyes meet yours. When he finally speaks again, his voice is softer, almost contemplative. 

“It's strange. There was a time in my life when I wouldn't have cared what happened to me in the line of duty, whether I lived or died. But now...I want to live for those kids. My kids.”

You manage a wobbly smile even as your heart aches at his words. "Your students are lucky to have someone who cares about them so much."

“You remind me of them a little bit.” He lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling softly in the quiet room. “Determined, stubborn, always insisting on helping.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

The corner of his lips quirk up, and the realization that he might actually be teasing you sends your heart aflutter. 

“Mostly good,” he murmurs. “A little bit troublesome for me though.”

“Yeah?” You bite back a smirk. “You’ve been a bit troublesome for me, too, you know.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the pillows. “Is that so? And how do you propose I make it up to you, then?”

Maybe it’s the huskiness of his voice, the quiet intensity of his gaze, or the faint smile tugging at his lips, but something about him in this moment makes your stomach freefall. And you’re suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him, passionately and spontaneously, as if afraid to see sense. 

You know you shouldn't indulge this, should put a stop to this train of thought before it gains too much momentum. You’re thankful you manage to keep your voice steady despite the rush of blood pounding in your ears. 

“Well, Aizawa-san, you could start by taking me out to dinner. Dealing with a patient as stubborn as you has its price, you know.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you wonder if you’ve made a terrible mistake. But then his gaze flickers down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and you feel your breath hitch. He tilts his head, his expression thoughtful yet guarded, as if trying to read between the lines of your playfulness.

“I suppose,” he concedes softly. “But you might find that I’m not as interesting as you think, Y/N. I’m just a man who cares about the people in his life and does what he can to protect them.”

"That's exactly what I like about you.” Your voice drops to a whisper, your hand lightly brushing against his.

He groans softly, and you feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the sound. He rubs his hand down his face, seemingly weighing his options. 

It’s not too late, you assure yourself in a rush of anxious thoughts. You haven’t crossed any lines you can’t go back on, haven’t overstepped the delicate boundary between patient and nurse, between flirtation and something more. 

“Will you let me kiss you at the end of the date?”

Oh.

The line is a dot now.

You swallow hard and — heart pounding in your chest, everything else spinning dizzyingly out of focus — you rush forward to close the distance between you, pressing your lips urgently against his. 

The spark you felt before intensifies into an electrifying current now, racing down your spine as he tangles one hand in your hair and another holds you by the nape. He tilts your head back to kiss you deeper, his lips hungrily exploring yours, and you feel drunk on the pleasure of his touch, the intoxicating scent of his skin and his aftershave.

The softness of his lips contrasts with the roughness of his stubble, sending shivers of delight coursing through you. His mouth is warm and inviting, and you lose yourself in the sensation of his kiss, the way he breathes you in, the quiet sighs of pleasure that escape both of you. 

Your mind spins with the realization of how much you’ve wanted this and how many ill-advised daydreams you’ve had of him these past few weeks. When you finally break apart for air, you keep your forehead pressed against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. The sound of your blood rushing in your ears drowns out the rhythmic beeping of the machines around you, and for a moment, the world feels narrowed down to just the two of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” Your breath comes in ragged gasps. Your fingers gingerly touch your lips, which are pursed in surprise. “That was reckless of me. I shouldn’t have.”

Aizawa blinks at you, his dark eyes wide and dazed, like he’s trying to process what just happened. He licks his lips, a gesture that sends a fresh wave of warmth through your body.

“Do you…” His voice is husky, tinged with uncertainty. “Do you regret it?”

“No, of course not,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “I only regret not doing it at a better time.”

His eyes widen slightly in surprise before softening, the tension in his shoulders seemingly melting away. 

"Good," he murmurs, reaching for you, his thumb cradling your jaw and tracing small, soothing circles on your skin. “Because I’d like to do it again—”

He presses a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And again—”

He brushes his lips teasingly against yours, feather-light and promising of more.

“And again.”

The admission sends a thrill through you, a rush of joy and excitement that makes your pulse quicken. "All the more reason to look forward to dinner, I suppose. After you get better, that is."

He chuckles softly. "Shouldn't be a problem, seeing as how I have an excellent nurse taking care of me."

"Mmmhm. Speaking of, is there anything else I can do to make you…more comfortable before I leave?” You can't help but ask, a playful lilt in your voice.

He captures your lips in a delicate kiss, so sweet and tender, like a dream barely skimming the surface of reality. You've finally calmed down enough to hear the sound of his heart rising, betrayed by the loudening beep of the machine. His hand trails down your arm and he laces his fingers with yours, smiling against your lips. 

“I can think of a few things.”

[hazbinshusk]

part three of the distraction series. (part one) (part two)

overlord!husk x fem!reader. following a disappointing game, your overlord needs help to take his mind off of it. you, of course, are more than willing to oblige him. after all, how could a pet possibly refuse her master? 1.4k

featuring: oral sex (husk receiving), dom/sub relationship, smoking, drinking, pet names like 'daddy' and 'good girl'. reader is afab and fem presenting.

The last of the players clear out well into the early hours of the morning, loud voices and raucous cheers for more booze, more women, lingering in the room for a few moments after the door had closed behind them like so much ether. Your Overlord remains seated, sunk deep into the plush of his chair, the custom curves of it cradling his wings comfortably. The smoke of his cigar is exhaled in a long, slow plume towards the ceiling as he tilts his head back, eyes closed. You tuck your hands together in front of yourself, teeth catching the inside of your bottom lip.

It wasn’t often that the Gambling Overlord lost. And true, this wasn’t a real loss; he’d still come out on top. But he hadn’t gotten what he wanted out of the night, and it had soured his mood.

The Overlord knocks back the rest of his drink, the two claws he holds his cigar between tapping against the arm of his chair. They catch slightly in the fabric, and you make note to have the housekeepers take care of it. The half-gone ice cube rattles against the glass as he lowers it again, and you reach immediately for the Wrath Ring Whiskey he’s been favouring the last few nights. You have it uncapped and have crossed the floor to his side before he can turn his attention pointedly towards you.

Husk’s eyes flick up to your face as you pour his drink, the hint of a soft smirk flickering over his features for a second at your attention. He lets his gaze linger, trailing it lower to follow the line of your sternum, the swell of your breasts. You’re wearing a dress tonight – managing to somehow manage to still look professional and demure, and downright sinful without your usual buttoned blouse and skirt. The top of it hugs your chest in a way that makes his pupils dilate, and that smirk reappears at the ever-presence of those fucking whorish stockings you wear.

“Doll.”

You straighten, holding the bottle against your stomach. Husk brings his cigar back to his mouth, holding your gaze as he inhales slow, exhales. The scent of it teases at your senses, floods them, as the smoke curls around you, and while you always hated the scent of cigarettes while you were alive, now the smell of it sets excitement tightening in your belly.

Your lips part, but you can’t find anything to say.

“On your knees for me.”

The husky cadence of your master’s voice makes you shudder, and you set the bottle on the table, the heavy glass making a dull thunk against the velveted surface. You take the skirt of your dress in your hands, fingers curling in the fabric to lift it a few inches so it won’t catch under your knees as you kneel in front of him.

And fuck every damn ring in hell if it ain’t somehow one of the most erotic things Husk has ever seen.

Husk reaches down to catch your chin between two fingers, tilting your face up to him, more gently than the brusque way he’d intended. Your lips part at the touch, the tip of your tongue darting out to wet them. He feels himself harden at the sight of it, and he brings his glass down to you, smirking as your lips part further in immediate, silent obedience. He tilts it carefully, pouring a mouthful down over your tongue.

You swallow, determined to keep your reaction to the liquid fire he’s just poured down your throat off your face. You exhale the burn slowly, and the Overlord smirks as he pulls the glass away again. “Good girl.”

Oh, God, how you’ve missed hearing that. You can feel yourself beginning to flush under the golden glow of his gaze, kneeling before him as though in subjugation, in worship. And, when you consider the way you’re still spending every moment alone with him hoping for exactly this… maybe you are.

“You know what I want from you, don’t you, pet?”

You nod, eyes wide. You’re sure he can see the desire you can feel deep between your thighs reflected in them.

Husk’s smile widens, and he takes another drag from his cigar. He exhales through his nose, the smoke curling slowly around his face, making your head swim. The register of his voice lowers into something almost hypnotic, smooth and velvet and so deliciously dark.

“Then be a good girl for daddy.”

You’re reaching for him as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and Husk breathes a pleased chuckle at your eagerness. You run your fingers up over his thighs, massaging into the muscle lightly. The Overlord growls lightly as your fingertips graze the firm line of his erection, his eyes closing for a moment as you squeeze him through his pants. You stroke him like that for a moment, listening to the way his breathing grows slow and deep. He’s thicker than you remember, and you squeeze your thighs together as you unfasten his pants and slip your hand around him.

Husk exhales a sigh at the first touch of your hand to his naked cock, his tongue curling over the side of his muzzle for a moment as you begin to stroke him. The barbs lining the length of him tickle against your palm as they rise under your attention, and you suddenly almost ache with the idea of how they could feel inside you.

You’d only barely gotten a taste of him the last time he’d asked you to play with him, and you lick your lips as the first bead of precum leaks from the tip of his cock.

“You better not be teasin’ me,” he warns, breaking off in a low moan as you lean forward and take him into your mouth. “Ohhh, doll…”

You take him in greedily, keeping your hand wrapped around the base of his cock and squeezing as the head of it meets the back of your throat. A rumble sounds in the back of Husk’s throat as you suck up the length of him slowly, tracing along the underside of his cock with your tongue. The barbs drag along it in a way that almost itches but you don’t care, and when you roll your tongue around the tip he groans.

“That’s it, baby…” he drawls, and you watch from under his lashes as he takes a mouthful of whiskey and tips his head back as you suck him. You do it slowly, savouring the way he swells against your tongue, the soft ache in your jaw from the way he fills your mouth. Rolling your tongue against him each time you take him back in, you feel the barbs growing more rigid with every bob of your head. “That’s it, fuck…”

God, when he calls you ‘baby’…

He shifts forward slightly and you hear him set his glass on the table, feel your Overlord run his hand through your hair. He curls his claws into the locks at the back of your head, urging you forward. You deepthroat him obediently, gagging loudly as the head of his cock meets the back of your throat. You force yourself to linger, swallowing around him. He growls, claws tightening, the sharp points grazing your scalp.

Husk thrusts his hips up and you choke, pulling back with a gasp. Drool hangs from your lips, marking your chin and trailing to his cock.

“Ain’t you jus’ the prettiest thing?” The Overlord asks in a rough voice, his hand releasing your hair so he can cup your cheek. You turn your head, press a kiss into the heart-shaped pad of his palm. Husk’s ears flick upward in surprise at the sudden tenderness of it.

He swallows, but then your mouth is on his dick again before he can formulate a reaction.

Your hands bunch in the front of his pants as you suckle at the tip, tightening in the fur underneath as you take him in again. Husk thrusts up to meet your mouth, claws clenching in the arm of the chair, in your hair again. The feeling of it sends thrills through you, makes a shiver run down your back, and the way the Overlord moans when you hollow your cheeks and suck makes your eyes roll back behind the lids.

You open them to watch his chest rise and fall with disjointed breath, watch his eyes heavy-lidded and pupils blown wide stare back down at you. When Husk cums its deep into the back of your throat, and he holds you in place, fucking himself up into your mouth until he’s spent.

He strokes your cheek afterwards, streaking the teara staining it across yiur cheekbone. You're still coughing, chest heaving and mouth full of cum, when he leans down and, despite himself, brushes his lips against your forehead. “Good girl.”

.

.

.

.

Tagging @irkimatsu @monstrousvoice and @mckeeks as requested for this series :)

[radiaurapple]

Lucid Dreams of New Orleans: Chapter 14

CHAPTER SUMMARY: IN WHICH Lucifer and Alastor go home.

FIC SUMMARY: Lucifer has always kept his distance from sinners. It’s what keeps him (relatively) sane — if he gets too close, he is haunted by visions of the tragic mortal lives that landed them in Hell. But in his new life at the Hotel, it is more difficult than ever to stay away — and when it comes to light that his daughter’s insufferable facilities manager is gravely wounded, it falls to Lucifer to deliver his soul from Death. In so doing, he falls headfirst into the sins, past lives, and heartbreaks of the one human whose contradictions he is powerless to resist.

we've reached the end-ish folks!!! I have an epilogue and some other ideas i want to go after this in the same universe--I am taking a week off next week though so expect the first epilogue on 6/27!!!

thanks so much to everyone who has read along and I hope you enjoy!! 🍎📻💖

[AO3 LINK]

The portal to Heaven closes in a puff of sparks. Lucifer is left behind, staring at the space Alastor occupied only moments ago. Without so much as a word to the hotel’s other residents, he opens a portal to his room, right over his bed; he steps through and flops unceremoniously onto the comforter. 

He usually escapes into a memory in moments like these — when he’s alone and awash in self-pity, his mind a prickly hedge maze of grief. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to call up something pleasant. 

It’s no use. There’s only one place he wants to be right now, and none of his memories of that place and time belong to him.

Lucifer sighs and flicks his wrist; a portal splits open in the middle of his room, spilling green light over the carpet.  

Which is how he finds himself on Earth. 

New Orleans. October. Sunset. 

Lucifer steps off a cable car in the French Quarter and stumbles through the crowd of evening commuters. He inhales a lungful of a skateboarder’s cotton-candy flavored vape and coughs; the crowd thins, and he ducks into an alleyway and bends his form into a white pigeon. He flaps his wings and takes off. 

He glides over the rooftops. As the millennia went by, Heaven seemed to care less and less about Lucifer’s intrusion here. He rarely interferes in the affairs of mortals — but from time to time, he likes to walk among them, to see them exercise the gift of free will in a wider range of hues than his skewed and gruesome view from the top of Hell. Every time he comes here, he discovers some new human creation that brings a smile to his face — that makes him wonder if he might have been right all along. 

This time, he isn’t sure what to think.

Below, he spots Elysian Fields Ave., a few blocks from Alastor’s old home. He alights in the shade of a house between two garbage bins; he steps out onto the street in the same pale imitation of a human form he wore in Alastor’s memories. 

The suburban street is quiet and still apart from a hideous, boxy electric vehicle that drives past on the road. He borrows Alastor’s sense of direction and heads northwest. Soon he’s lost — most of Alastor’s landmarks are gone, and only the shape of the streets is familiar. He circles Alastor’s block three times before he finally accepts that the houses where Alastor and Hollis lived are both gone, replaced by multi-story duplexes. 

He finds what he believes was the lot of Alastor’s home and stands before it on the sidewalk, stares at the building that now occupies it, unsure of what he came here for. He wants to knock on the door and tell them everything that happened here — to tell them about the game nights, the lone drop of blood, cigarettes and violin in the rocking chair on the porch. He wonders if late at night, or during storms, the memories resurface like ghosts — one high and trembling note remembered in the sound of falling leaves. He wants to ask them if there’s anything left of those short human lives — any mark of their existence. The outline of a shoulder worn in the lacquer on the back of a violin. 

As Lucifer stands there, the thread of linear time frays, and his consciousness splits between both places at once — the present world and the memory. Alastor is coming down the sidewalk, right now and ninety years ago; He steps right through Lucifer, like a ghost, and climbs the invisible steps of a yellow house that no longer exists. 

The sound of a car door jolts Lucifer back into his body. He bends his form back into a white pigeon and flies up to look over the city. 

He takes inventory. Most of Alastor’s places are gone. Economy Hall — the lighthouse that marked the edge of Lake Pontchartrain — the City Park pool. The park has expanded north of Florida Ave., which has itself widened from a street into an interstate. Many of the charming cobblestone streets downtown are now paved with asphalt.

The Francs Amis, the first place Lucifer really saw Alastor with his own eyes, is one of the few buildings that still exists. Lucifer perches on the chain-link fence across the cracked asphalt street and eyes the sign out front. A dry laugh escapes him — it has been repurposed into a church. Figures.

[AO3 LINK]

[rainbowbarnacle]

I was kind a late bloomer when it comes to liking clothes, but I've learned to love dolling up! And it took me forever.

I didn't want much to do with clothes at all growing up because I wasn't really allowed to go see what I liked, and so I just kind of lived in jeans and t-shirts because that's what was comfortable. When I did try and see what I liked, mom would pull out the excuses.

"You can't wear that top, it's not your color." (Note: she never told me what my colors ever were, just what they weren't.) "You can't wear those colors, you'll look like a clown." (OH NO NOT THAT) "You can't wear that tank, it shows your arm flab." (?!?!?!) "I know you like that dress but why would someone like you wear it? You don't go out." (I WANNA WEAR IT SITTING A LOUNGE CHAIR READING A BOOK, MOTHER.)

It wounded me. Just. Holy crap. She told me these things as though it was some obvious, awful rule that I just didn't get. To hear her talk, you'd think that everyone else was already aware of my fashion sins and whispering about them, and (worst of all!!) it embarrassed her so much.

The alternatives to my choices were sooo depressing too. Khaki capris. Piles of denim, especially these weirdly stretchy uncomfortable bell bottoms that always got soaked in rain puddles? Cardigans. Nothing joyful.

(This is not to say that bell bottoms and cardigans and capris can't have their uses, and I am not questioning or judging anybody who likes these things, it was just miserable being shoved into them like a doll because This is What People Wear According to Mom.)

I was taught I should HATE plaid and paisley and polka dots, and to this day I have to shove an instinctive feeling of shame away when I look at my closet, because guess what, it turns out I have a looot of paisley AND I LOOK NICE IN IT. 8)

And just. Oh man. If I could tell tiny!Aud about how I get to match (or contrast) different colors with the blue dye in my hair? Or how I have a closet full of long skirts and headscarves and pretty shirts? Or the joy of finding jewelry that POPS? I bet she would be so happy. I never imagined myself looking like me when I was little, I always imagined myself looking sort of like mom.

Anyway, the whole point of all this blathering is that it took me an absurdly long time to figure out that clothes were FUN because the only person who should be making those kinds of decisions about them is meee. Once I figured that out, it was like a whole new world opened up.

And that goes the same for you. Go wear that Thing you like with joy. Embrace your favorite colors and patterns. Wear a biker jacket, wear a mini skirt with those long socks you like, wear that one shirt that is Incredibly Gender. WEAR ALL THREE AT ONCE.

Wear what's YOU because it's YOU.

<3

[scekrex]

hello it is I original requester for the overlord reader x Adam series and I am craving the angst, Adam finds out about how overlord reader had only taken him in to sell him out to make a quick buck and basically Adam's reaction to finding that out

Don't ya think I'll forget your name, you were one of the first ppl to ever request stuff. Also I fucking love you/p for requesting overlord!reader in the first place

Bird of Hell's Paradise

Can't take back all the things we said

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, hurt/no comfort

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

You were in your office, working on some paperwork while also trying to plan a meeting that Zestial had requested. The old overlord had asked to meet you to discuss the rumors about Adam, he had also offered to simply pay you a visit so that the angel would not have to leave the place he called home now and expose himself to greedy eyes and filthy claws, that way you would also not have to deal with the brunette’s attitude whenever you were about to leave him alone for a short while. Yet it was quite hard to find a date to meet the overlord you liked the most, he seemed just as busy as you were.

Adam however, slammed the door open and therefore interrupted the call you were in. The camera zoomed out automatically as soon as a second face had been detected and Adam was just as visible as you were, the normally calm angel seemed angry - at what you had yet to find out. You turned towards your lover with a soft smile, “Pardon me, Zestial, I shall be back as soon as I can.” The overlord on the other hand of the call gave you a silent nod as he observed the situation. “My dear,”you greeted Adam. You got up from your chair and crossed the room to where the brunette was still standing in the doorframe, holding a sheet of paper in his hand as anger and betrayal was written all over his face. A hand of yours reached out to touch his face, but the first man flinched away from the touch he normally loved and enjoyed so much. “Don’t fucking touch me you lying cunt,” he basically yelled at you, the volume of his voice caused you to flinch in return, never had the brunette yelled at you so directly, let alone insulted you like that. “What are you talking about, my sweet bird?” You tried your hardest to catch a glimpse of what Adam was holding in his hand, but the man was furious and his body movement reflected that feeling, therefore he was moving his arms quite a lot. A sarcastic chuckle bubbled from his throat, “What I’m fucking talking about? That you tried to sell my fucking soul to those fuck-ups of filth that live in this shithole.” He pressed his palm against your chest, the sheet of paper between his hand and the clothes covering your body as he shoved you away from him.

Your hands grabbed the paper he seemed so angry about and once the first couple of words were read, you realized what the first man had found. The contract you had made with one of the sins - it had been Mammon who had offered the highest price for Adam. That had been before the two of you had grown so close, back when Adam had been barely able to move due to the wounds that little demon girl had inflicted on him. “You fucking said I was save here, you fucking swore you would not sell my goddamn soul to any of those cunts,” his golden wings fluttered as he angrily pushed past you to enter the room fully, it was only then that he was Zestial. His voice sounded a little broken when he pointed to the computer which showed the other overlord, “And who’s this whore? Another fuck up you try to sell me to like a motherfucking slave?” The rage in Adam’s golden eyes burned bright, even brighter burned the feeling of betrayal though, the first man truly thought you were still trying to profit off of him by selling him, and that fact alone shattered something deep inside of you. “No,” you said as you turned around to look at Adam who was now looking through the documents on your desk in order to find even more evidence. “My love, would you listen to me for a moment, I-” but before you were able to explain yourself and calm your beloved hot headed angel down, he interrupted you, “Fuck you, fuck this place and fuck hell. You’re no different than the other filthy sluts down here.” And hearing that from the angel you loved hurt, it hurt badly, but it was your own fault after all. You had tried to sell him, you had tried to get rid of him, there was no denying.

“Adam,” the call of his name caused the brunette to stop for a moment, he turned his head to look at you - really look at you. The hurt in your eyes that matched his own made him consider hearing you out. “I will not deny that I tried to sell you-” “Fucking knew it, I should not fucking-” “Let me finish.” And the first man did, he was looking far from pleased by your confession, but he did remain silent to let you speak. “I tried in the beginning, before you even woke up from the pain that had caused you to pass out,” you explained as you slowly walked towards him, carefully you reached out to take the documents he had collected off of your desk from him to neatly place them down again - they were important after all and you could not risk adam tearing them apart in his anger. “But then you had woken up and every cell of my body had screamed at me to take care of you, not because you were wounded but because I knew that every single soul that exists down here would hurt you and I wanted to prevent that, not only back then but I still want to keep you from getting hurt again - physically or emotionally.”

In an act of desperation you offered your hand to Adam, yet the brunette did not take it - you had no right to blame him for that decision, not when it had been you who fucked up in the first place. “Well, fucking spoiler bitch, you hurt me more than any of your demon cunts could have,” he sounded like he was about to cry and you hated yourself for making your precious bird feel that way. Yet you understood. And while you wanted to hug him, to comfort him, he had made it clear that he was not in need of your touch, not when you had hurt him the way you did. “I know,” your words sounded so clear, so soft and yet they felt like sharp daggers piercing not only your chest but also his. “I apologize for that, my-” calling him by one of the pet names you usually used for him felt wrong, so you rephrased, “Adam.” His golden wings sank low enough for the ends of the feathers to reach the floor, a thing the angel had never done before, he had always taken care of the shiny golden feathers and had always made sure they would not touch the ground. “I need time,” and with those words he exited your office as abruptly as he had entered it.

It was Zestial who spoke up first after your angelic lover had left, “Time you shall give him, time will help him come to terms with it. Show him you mean those words spoken by yours but respect his boundaries as you do.” You looked at the screen, offering your old friend a weak smile as you nodded, “The meeting has to wait, I’m afraid. He is my priority.” And Zestial understood.

[cyanidedrinkers]

Forgive me father for i have sinned.

A PriceGraves religious guilt fanfic. Tw: Religious guilt, Religious Trauma, Mentions of homophobia, accidental self-harm, Graves has a mental breakdown- Graves loved his Shadow's, They were like family to him and because they were his family he did everything in his power to make them comfortable. One of the major ways he does this is by taking the time to research their religions and adjusting accordingly. During Ramadan Graves tracks who's fasting and makes sure to have the night crew make food for those breaking fast. He keeps Kosher meals on hand at all times and special orders MRE'S for those in the field so they still get fed and don't have to go against their religion. All around base there are rooms for those who need to pray through out the day. He special orders uniforms for those who cant wear what is provided due to their religion, and assigns special roles for those who refuse to handle a gun but still wish to serve. All he asks is that he is informed ahead of time when someone needs to fast, take off for holidays, or pray so he can provide the support they need. If the company ever gets deployed around Saudi Arabia Graves asks around to see who would like to make their journey to the Kaaba. There's a small church area on the base for those to go to throughout the day and designated times for people to go attend service. He even provides custom helmets for those who decide to wear Hijabs or Kippah's and takes feed back on how to make them comfier.

Growing up in the south Graves was raised Catholic, His mother and father were very prominent at the church and so was little Phillip. He went to lent, ash Wednesday, attended church every Sunday, participated in dinner every Wednesday, learned old Latin so he can read the older versions of the bible, went to Catholic schools, he even prayed at every meal and before bed. His religion was sacred to him, It was an important part of his life growing up and so he strives to make others comfortable too. His love for his god tends to backfire though. After his betrayal of the 141 and Los Vaqueros he spent a whole week locked in his room praying and begging for forgiveness. His cross clutched so tightly in his hands that it left bruises and made that spot tender to the touch. Shadow's had stationed themselves outside the door to make sure he was safe but the cries coming from his room were those of pain and terror as he begged for forgiveness and to wash away his sin from his unholy body. It took nearly 3 months for him to get back to normal and when he did he got the worse news possible. "Due to the nature of this mission I'll be assigning 141 to help you. It'll be easier for them to stay on your base so clear out some space." Laswell stated firmly. Less then 24 hours ago Graves was hit with this news, He was scared to say the least. The 141...Staying with the shadows? How would he break it to his boys-, And girls, That the people who killed their teammates, lovers, and friends would be staying with them for god knows how long. Graves ran a hand over his face, His eyes threatening to close and his knees sore from sitting down all day from doing the paperwork for the 141's arrival. What he really wanted was to crack a beer open and watch the afternoon PT be done, He loved watching the new trainees get too cocky with their superior then bicker and moan as they were made to run laps. It brought him back to days were things were easy and he didn't have to worry about anything other then what their NCO was going to do to them. Pushing himself up and out of his chair with a loud groan Graves collected his things and set out to break the news to his shadows. The sun was just setting over the horizon as he took his first step out into the real world. The air smelled like a mixture of sweat, heat, dirt, and....rain? With a quick glance up at the clouds and a curse under his breath Graves made his way to the mess hall. "That stupid weather man said it wouldn't rain for another two days" He whined under his breath as he kicked a rock Infront of him, Repeating this action intel he eventually lost it. "Smells like damn rain to me, The clouds are white as snow but i just know it by the smell" His mumbling and grumbling to himself continued till he made it inside, It caught the eye of some shadows as he passed by them but they shrugged it off as him being hangry or a meeting gone wrong.

Once inside Graves was greeted by the waves and smiling faces of his Shadows, Some ran up to him and started asking how he was and if he was busy today because he didn't make his rounds like he normally does. Graves just smiled and made small talk intel everyone sat down. It was fairly easy to get everyone's attention when he needed it.

He stood and cleared his throat, Graves had prepared to yell over all the noise but the sound of silence washed over the mess hall as he stood and nothing but clattering forks could he heard as the attention was on him.

"Well that was easier than i remember-" He smiles to himself, He's still got it.

"It is with uttermost disappoint that i inform you that the 141 will be staying with us-" Groans and yelling cut him off. His shadows like small children sometimes, They whined and one person let out a very loud "NOOOOOO" which was met by laughter and agreement.

"I know we haven't been the best of friends with them but i expect you all to treat them with respect and to NOT, I repeat, NOT disrespect them in anyway OR steal their stuff." Graves hisses out, He aims that last part at a Shadow not to far away from him who's known for stealing things from people she dislikes.

This gets a unsatisfied groan from her but understanding nods from everyone else, And with that Graves grabs himself some dinner and goes back to his quarters for the night.

Once his meal is done and he finally shuts down his laptop Graves changes into a simple T-shirt and sweats. He removes the cross necklace from around his neck, takes off his socks and gets on his knees at the foot of his bed. His hands, Grasping the cross that lays so perfectly across his hands, and closes his eyes as he bows his head.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. Please, Allow these next few days to go well. Allow sin and hatred to not come in-between our mission and deliver my children back to me safely. Give me strength to push through and give strength to those who will have to see the faces of those who killed their loves, friends, and brothers in arms. Allow nothing but peace between the two companies lord. Amen"

Graves stays there for a few more seconds before standing up and setting his necklace at the bedside table. As he gets into bed and drifts into sleep he can't help but have that same gruff voice pop up in his head, Those calloused hands, the smell of cigars, it all swarms his mind intel he finally falls asleep....

That was part one :) if ya'll liked it let me know and I'll probably continue it- I had to do a lot of research so i apologize if everything isn't correct- I'm Agnostic, Former Christian, and don't know very much but I'm trying.

[lazycats-stuff]

The New Heir - Chapter 8

Alright, lets go on. Sorry for taking so long to push this out. Feedback is appreciated, as always.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Ra's makes an appearance, hehe, Talia too, mentions of panic attacks, Elias doesn't like the gala, gala, Ra's scares Elias, a little backstory about Natalia and Ra's...

Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8 Chapter 9, Chapter 10

Damian and Elias have talked through the problem and Damian has promised to not try to remove himself from Elias. He would try to deal with sadness and worry with Elias, considering that they are now both in a pickle. As far as they know, they could be biologically related.

But how would they be related if it is Ra's though? Elias shuddered at the every part of his being, every fiber of his being. It was a scary thought for Elias. If Ra's trained Batman, one of the best martial artists in the world, then what did he do with his mom?

Now there was a big question about the fact what to do with those martial arts? He is not ashamed, oh no, but now he is questioning everything. Should he hide his skills?

No. Elias thought about it and decided that he wouldn't hide anything. Absolutely anything. He won't carry the burden of his father.

He would not even carry the sins of his father.

After concluding that in his mind, Elias went to sleep. Damian and Elias shared a bed that night, Damian seemingly worried about Elias. It really looked like he was worried about Elias judging him for his grandfather.

Elias really couldn't see how Damian could worry about that. He never judged anybody on his family, but the character. Nobody really has a choice about their family. You are either lucky or unlucky.

There is really no in between.

There was another problem with Elias. The gala is in a few hours and Elias was still nervous. He was looking at the suit that was laid on his bed. The suit looked amazing, but it really didn't fit him. He wasn't this rich kid that would attend galas all the time.

But he would keep his mouth shut about this. Bruce was kind enough to give him this suit so he shouldn't complain about it. More importantly, he got a roof over his head. Elias still glared at the suit.

He huffed as he left the room, walking towards the kitchen. There were people milling around, mostly waiters and security, checking the manor out, the perimeter more so.

He heard Alfred in the kitchen, telling the waiters everything they needed to know. He waived over Elias to stand next to him, not even turning his head to look at him, eyes trained on the soldier in front of the head waiter.

" Is everything clear? " Alfred asked and the waiter nodded, letting the others know what to do and what not to do. Alfred turned his head to look at Elias, a softer look in his eyes.

" How can I help you master Elias? "

" I just can't stay in my room Alfred. " Elias confessed, watching as everyone was getting ready. The waiters in a white tuxedo, glasses clinking, smells of different foods... It was more comforting than the silence of his room.

" What's wrong? " Alfred said as he lead him to sit down on one of the island chairs.

" I just... Feel really out of place with this gala. I glared at the suit with so much that I had to leave the room and clear my head. " Elias explained to Alfred and Alfred had nothing but sympathy for him.

" And that's normal. You grew up in a humble environment and this is the weird and confusing for you. "

" Alfred, I never had a custom made suit in my life. Ever. Like... It's insane to me. It's not- " Elias let out a sigh instead, rubbing the back of his neck. " And I feel like I am ungrateful because I don't want to wear the suit, but then I think of the fact that he gave a place to leave. " Elias ranted out and Alfred put his hand on Elias' shoulder.

" You don't have to worry about it. You are an honorary Wayne now and all of his kids get the best things for the public stuff like this. Galas are the worst time for everyone here and nobody likes them, but we endure it. " Alfred explains and directs a waiter.

" Don't feel bad and try to relax here okay? Usually you guys are here for 2 hours tops and that's it from you guys. Reporters won't bother you because there will be hell to pay with Bruce. "

" I like the sound of it. "

" Also, I have to warn you, Damian's mother and his grandfather will come. "

Elias' jaw dropped down to the floor. " No. "

" Yes master Elias. Also, they are civil, don't worry about anything happening. " Alfred said, but Elias didn't believe it. By God it didn't believe it.

" I really can't believe it, but fair enough. " Elias said as he walked off and went back to his room. He really needs to put his suit on. Alfred smiled and got back to work.

" Hey Alfred. " Bruce said as he walked in. " Did you see Elias? "

" I did, you must have passed one another. " Alfred said.

" Is he okay with the gala? " Bruce asked as he leaned on the counter, being careful of the dishes.

" I told him that Ra's and Talia are coming. He is now a bit nervous, but he will be fine. " Alfred answered and Bruce rubbed his eyes.

" Well, he had to know... Now is just going to be the matter of nerves." Bruce said as he looked at the kitchen. " I know this gala is for charity, but I hate it. " Bruce said and Alfred smiled.

" I know, but it's for kids. " Alfred said as he took a bottle of whiskey and two glasses to pour the whiskey in.

" Even before the gala? " Bruce asked as he accepted the glass from Alfred.

" I need it. " Alfred said as he raised his glass. Bruce followed. " May this gala go well. "

" Hear hear. " Bruce said as they clanked their glasses before downing their whiskey.

The gala was actually going well. Elias was still nervous, but he was always with one of the guys. He saw journalists and he did see gossip pages and what not, but none of them approached any of the boys. Elias truly wishes that he could get rid of this anxiety, but he knew he couldn't.

How could he anyhow? Everyone watching him as he was a new Wayne, not officially, but an honorary one, but none the less, press are ready to sink their teeth into him. A tragic story of his mom missing and Bruce doing a press conference alone, seemingly wanted to see what he could share, giving them all the juicy details about the case and himself.

Elias was now the talk of Gotham and all eyes were on him right now.

He found it distressing and it made him want to crawl into his room. He really wanted to, but knew he couldn't do it just yet. Damn it Bruce. (Y/N) was talking to Damian, getting something to drink. The two need a break from the snobbish kids that came along with their parents. Damian and the others were primary targets and Elias was spared so far.

" Hello Damian. " Somebody said from behind them, in a deep rich voice and Elias picked up on a slight Arabic accent. Elias turned around and nearly dropped the glass in shock.

Is this Ra's Al Ghul?

" Grandfather. " Damian said and that confirmed it to Elias. Oh shit. Shit. No. Nope.

" And this must be Elias. I'm Ra's, Damian's grandfather. " Ra's introduced himself, extending a hand to shake. Elias took his hand and shook it with a firm grip. " Yes, I'm Elias. Nice to meet you. " Elias lied right through his teeth.

Keep it civil Eli. Keep it civil.

" This is my daughter Talia. " Ra's said and (Y/N) looked at the woman next to him.

Elias had to admit, she is drop dead gorgeous. Almost like a goddess. Dark brown hair, gorgeous eyes, not to mention a figure that many men look for a few moments longer than they should.

If Elias was was none the wiser, he would have gone for her. Of course, if he was older too, an adult. The two shook hands and Elias forced a smile.

" Nice to meet you. " He lied right through his teeth once more and saw the way that Ra's was looking at him. Damian watched from the side.

" I heard what happened to your mother. I'm sorry that happened to you. " Ra's said and Elias had a bad feeling about this. He gave a small nod and a tight smile. " Thank you. "

Something was off about all of this. Really off. And it wasn't because Elias knew what was Ra's and Talia capable of, but something else. He took sip of his drink and Damian has stepped in.

" Elias, I think that father wanted to talk to you. " Damian said and Elias didn't question this and said his polite goodbyes before leaving to look for Bruce.

Where the hell is that man? Elias wondered as he kept looking, sighing in relief as he made his way to Bruce. Bruce saw him and saw a panicked look in his eyes. He quickly walked over, putting his hand on his shoulder.

" Eli, are you okay? "

" I don't know, I just met Ra's and Talia... " Elias said and started to breathe deeply. He didn't want to have a panic attack now.

" Come with me. " Bruce said as he led Elias out of the room and into an empty hall. " Deep breaths okay? "

Elias nodded and just tried not have another panic attack. He leaned against the wall and undid his tie, not wanting to feel suffocated.

" That man is stressful to talk to. My God... " Elias whispered to himself and Bruce put his hand on Elias' shoulder.

" I know, trust me, I know. Do you think you will have a panic attack? " Bruce asked quietly and Elias shook his head, following with a very quiet no.

" Good boy. I would like for you to go to your room and relax okay? You don't have to be at the gala anymore okay? " Bruce said to Elias and Elias wanted nothing more than that. Bed is nice. Bed doesn't judge.

Bed is comforting. Very comforting.

" Thanks... How do you deal with him? " Elias asked and Bruce smiled a little bit.

" You need to have your wits. That's all I can say. " Bruce said and gave Elias a quick hug to make sure he is okay.

" Wow. " Elias said and moved back when Bruce let him go.

" Go to your room and relax, okay? Don't worry about him. " Bruce reassured Elias and Elias happily went up the stairs. Bed won't judge. Bed will only comfort you.

The gala came to an end and the manor was empty. Well, it wasn't really. Talia and Ra's were sitting in the living room, with the rest of the family, including Alfred, but without Elias, who was sleeping in his bed quite relaxed and quite happy. Bed doesn't judge.

Now, what was the reason for this impromptu meeting I might hear you asking?

It was about Elias. Bruce outright refused to call Elias down and Ra's backed down from the suggesting it anymore. Of course, the two were outnumbered, especially with one member of the family who wasn't afraid to kill.

It was Alfred, already protective of his new grandson and at the moment, he was standing with one of his wrists in his other and the gun in the free one. Alfred was quick on the trigger, especially since being an MI6 agent. Former of course.

Ra's and Talia were fully aware of it and has agreed to not piss off Alfred.

" Why are you focused on Elias? " Alfred asked, looking those two demons down.

" Well, you will need context first. " Ra's said as he was leaning back on the couch, legs crossed. He fixed his cufflinks and looked at everyone in the room.

" Around 30 years ago, I met a newcomer who was eager to learn. She had such raw passion and raw talent for fighting. " Ra's said as he smiled a little bit at the memory. " I immediately took her under my wing and soon enough, I feel in love. A year later, we were married and Talia was on the way. " Ra's said, pausing to take a sip of his wine. He continued as he put his glass down.

" When Talia was around 20 years old, my wife disappeared. Well, she somehow ran. To this day, I don't know how she did it. Worst of all? " Ra's said as he paused for a brief moment, smirking in pure bitterness. " She was pregnant with a baby boy, my heir. A boy who was born in May 2011. "

The last sentence did it and the room was silent. If Elias had been here, he would have gotten a panic attack of the century. Everyone turned to Damian and Bruce, who were speechless. Damian more than Bruce.

He has an uncle his age... My God.

" So Elias is Damian's uncle? " Jason asked, hoping to get a little bit more of clarity. Tim wonder if he was hallucinating and Dick was just to speechless to even talk.

" Yes. " Talia said and Bruce blinked once.

" I still want to do a DNA test, just to make sure. " Bruce announced and Ra's scoffed.

" I think I can recognize my wife's photo from the news? Do you want me to give you her full name to prove it? " Ra's asked and everyone could sense a certain level of hostility.

Bruce stayed quiet for a moment, before he asked his last question. " You really loved Natalia, didn't you? "

Ra's didn't seem to give out a reaction, but his eyes betrayed him. He loved Natalia very much it seems. Maybe Ra's did know what love is.

" I want to meet Elias. " Ra's said and Alfred gripped his gun tighter.

" That won't happen any time soon. " Jason and Tim said together at the same time and Bruce nodded his head.

" Elias is scared of you Ra's. He knows who you are and what you did to Damian. " Bruce said and Ra's turned his head to look at Bruce.

" So I should be deprived of my son? My flesh and blood? My heir? " Ra's said and Alfred started glaring at Ra's.

" Elias doesn't want your legacy. " Tim said quickly and Ra's turned his head to look at Tim.

" I just want to meet him. If I went to court and proved paternity, he would have come to live with me, however, I don't want to be that type of person. " Ra's said and Jason's jaw clenched and Dick gripped Jason's shoulder, trying to calm him down.

" Here is what's going to happen. " Bruce said as he stood up, authority in his voice and posture. " I'll do a DNA test to make sure you are his father. If it is confirmed, I'll tell him and will let you know. And it will be up to Elias if he wants to meet you. I won't force him and neither will you. Do any of that sort and Alfred will make sure you won't come back to life. " Bruce said as he started down Ra's, who refused to back down.

" You have my word that we won't intervene. The only thing I ask is that he knows. And I don't want him to be coached into not wanting to meet with me or Talia. " Ra's stated as he stood up, walking towards Bruce.

The two shook hands, sealing that deal.

" You have my word Ra's. " Bruce said and the boys all glanced at one another.

How in God's name will they break this to Elias?

[hemlocksandfoxgloves]

Sunday Snippet 🌹⛓️

tagged by @ksbbb

Underneath all the mayhem Liam couldn’t help but feel some sick satisfaction at feeling the sticky warmth underneath his fingernails. It was like he had found a piece of himself he’d been missing; a part that had been long stored away. He always wondered if the bite was just a curse or a blessing that opened up a world of bloody treasures. He wanted to experience it all.

Through the thick haze of what his dream concurred, Liam feels a bitter chill go through the air and then he acknowledges the hard surface under his bodice, not like his comfortable mattress at home. Snapping his eyes open, they flicker over the dark room, dimmed by the small light of thin streaks breaking through the slats of the boarded-up window.

And then he feels a warmth stirring beside him.

Liam’s eyes dart to his side where he finds Theo curled up against him, his head resting gently on Liam’s chest. He remembers holding Theo last night, the wolfsbane he gave him, hitting hard. It was the first time he had made the dosage, he’s glad it didn’t kill him. Microdosing would’ve been a better option. He didn’t think he had given him that much, but the way Theo saw right through him as he talked to his dead sister told him otherwise.

Theo stirs sluggishly as Liam shifts beside him. Did chimeras get hangovers because, if so, Theo was going to have one hell of a time? He looked just as bent out of shape as he did last night, only his breathing rose and fell in a calm manner. The young werewolf always found a serenity in watching the chimera sleep. Something strong stirs in the pit of his gut — perhaps guilt. How wicked could he be that he might just enjoy keeping Theo here, having complete control over him? It left a raw feeling inside of him.

With mindful efforts, Liam untangles himself from the shared blanket, pulling away from Theo. He could feel nausea churning away deep in his stomach as he moved — not from the dream he had of ripping his best friend apart — but because of these unfamiliar feelings he was having. He was attracted to Theo, there was no denying that. He couldn’t entertain it would be anything more than that, though. Theo had it right when he said he liked watching him squirm in the chair, moaning a sinful song just for him. He wondered what other kinds of noises he could make under Liam’s touch. It drove him crazy just how much he wanted to see him bleed again and make those pretty sounds.

Liam sits up, rubbing a hand over his face. What kind of sick bastard was he fantasizing about a killer? Not just any killer; his Alpha’s killer. Theo killed people. Plural. But he also brought back life — he brought back the other chimeras — and it’s not like he wasn’t atoning for it. Maybe Liam could change the chimera’s wicked ways. Could someone save himself from these wicked thoughts, though?

@thiamsxbitch @wolfboy88 @fruchtfliege @honestlydarkprincess @mmoosen @isaac-not-isaac @depressionsessions-blog @chasing-chimeras

[nemzd]

Purification and Order in a place no diffrent then hell~

Part 03/??

Everyone was sleeping soundly in heaven, everyone one, except the man in your arms, Archangel Raphael, while you were peacefully sleeping holding Raphael in your arms, the man has opened his eyes.. and just looked at you,..I mean who wouldnt? The Lord, maker of heaven and Earth left heaven.. and is in the presence of a mortal.. his Spirit, the Spirit of God... he can feel him... but he can also feel.. that if he attacks you, or tries anything on you..the lord will severly punish him. For hurting the chosen one, chosed by God himself for some kind of task, would anger God truly.

As he thought many things.. he looked at your chest, where he was naturaly lying his head on.. he just looked your chest and saw the mark of a Angel and not only that ... but your shirt was also ripped off... he knew which angel would dare to do so..

Raphael:..Micheal.. what big sin are you gonna commit with hurting this human?.. Oh dear..

...

(Now it may come a bit weird but hope it still sticks to it)

As he said those words, he traced his finger on your chest, removing the brand left by Micheal on you.

He just looked at your face.

Raphael:If God has chosen this mortal as a vessel .... then who am I to hurt and go against the divine will of God?...

...

He said those words.. he felt.. wonderful for the first time in a long time.. he couldnt explain how this human had the Spirit of the Lord... nor why he felt so comfortable on sight seeing this human and how they were able to calm him down to such a decree... He was happy to say the least.. he tried to touch your face but then you moved slightly, which he knew and meant that you were about to wake up.

He stood up and saw a nearby chair, and stood up to get a chair for himself to sit near you, while you felt moved and shifted, you groaned and opened your eyes.. and saw him, Raphael in his full glory.

You tried to remember what happend last time and then remembered it fully.. you were in heaven, in heaven my dear! But the moment you began to smile you stopped it, realizing something.. what was told to you by Micheal the Archangel.. was partly true... because you know the feeling of being in the presence of God... but here in heaven where it should feel the most intense.. it isnt diffrent then being in earth... oh dear.. what has happend?..

You turned your eyes to Raphael, the Archangel.. and looked at him.. he then spoke.

Raphael:.. ......Mortal.. how are you able to speak with the almighty lord himself... How?!

...

He said to you, the moment ??? has brought you here.. and that even Micheal came to you.. and now that he also realised you were marked by him.. just shook him.. and when you prayed.. oh dear.. he felt the lords presence once more.. and not only that.. his Holy Spirit.. is inside of you... it hurts his head even just thinking of it!.. And that he chose a mortal... over his own angels.. his own servants.. just.. it hurt him...

You:... I dont know.

Your simple but direct answer.. Just made him stare at you.

Raphael:...HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW?!

...

You: How am I supposed to know? In your eyes I am just a sinner aint I?.. One worth of death, the only reason I am in such a close relationship with God, even closer then you angels seem to be with him.Is because Jesus Christ, my Lord and Saviour, so yea my God is the most gracious, most perfect and loving being in all of existence!

...

Saying those words made you feel good, not only were you always on the side of God but it also made you feel like you done the right thing, and these exact words shocked Raphael, even though it did make him angry to some sense... it made him realise.. what he himself lacked that you seemed to have a abudance of.. and that is love.... so he took you by your hand, sliced off the chain off your wrist and took you by arm... and dragged you outside the room... he was gonna bring you into the "Throne room of God"...

At a diffrent diffrent place~

Micheal felt something odd.... he didnt feel the human that branded and marked with his own blood.. it made him stand up in horror trying to run to where you were but someone else stopped him.

???:.. Micheal, dont be that hasty, stay calm, how far can a mortal come in this realm?.. you got nothing to worry about, so just sit down.. and I make sure that the Angels bring them back to their chambers.. So dont worry.

...

Micheal:... I will take care of it myself Gabriel.. and dont you try hurting them in any way.. they might be our only key into finding out where God is...

...

He said those words with a malice intend, not intending to spare the man even a moment before he walked through the doory not sparing a second at Gabriel...

Gabriel:..You may try something.. but dont you dare get in my ways.. because that human.. will be mine.

...

Said Gabriel as he smilled happily to himself.... oh well will this be finally happening?.. He doesnt know.. but it will make it a worth while experince.. he chuckles to himself.

Back to you

He still dragged you around the corridors, yes you knew heaven was supposed to be very large but you didnt expect it to be this large!.. But on the way waiting infront of the door to the throne room of God.. you saw a familiar person... wait thats Archangel Micheal!

You nudged at Raphael and said that he should see who has come.. and when he waited.. Raphael saw him.. someone he didnt particuliarly like.. Micheal.

Micheal came nearer you.. you off course forgetting your Shirt was ripped and your chest exposed, he couldnt just watch this.. and he threw.. a garment on you?..

Micheal:.. Cover yourself with that and return to your chambers, right this instant..

...

Raphael just looked at the both of you... a but shocked.. normaly anyone that breaks the commands of Micheal or even does a poor job, would have been killed.. no matter if it was a angel or a demon...

Micheal(Thoughts):.. They didnt leave.. huff.. I cant let them leave after finally being in the lords presence after so many years.. and the mark... Raphael seemed to have broken it... ha.. then I just add a new one..

...

Micheal once again took his sword and sliced his arm once more, he threw his blood on your hand this time... he just smilled and looked at Raphael with a cold glare.

Micheal:.. If you try to break that mark again.. I be having your head next Raphael, and also dont try to make the human go with their chest like that now return with the human to their chambers.. tommorow I have some plans for them..

...

He said and looked at you with a smirk, he then left... Raphael even though he also is a Archangel wanted no smoke with Micheal.. even though he didnt wanna hear his lousy brothers command.. he had to obligate...

Raphael:...You heard him mortal.. time to return you back to your chamber... ha..

He took your small frame.. wrapped you like a Burrito in the garment which was obviously almost twice your size.. and held you in his arms.. like a bride.. and then he walked into the way of your chamber... all through the way you have been silent.. at times you looked at his face... which was.. beautiful but.. he had a eyepatch.... you didnt know why.. but when you tried to reach for his face.. another bright light emited.. but this time.. it wasnt just any light.. the light seemed to be green in colour.. and when Raphael saw this he was stiff as a stone.. Just watching what happend....... he .. felt something.. he removed his eyepatch.. and his face felt.. much warmer.. he ran into your room, with you in burrito style in his arms.. he threw you onto the bed and ran to your desk in your chamber.... he saw .. his face was completly healed.. and his.. eye.. he could see again with that eye.. he looked at you with wide disbelief..... but then he smilled at you.

Raphael:.. You truly are a blessing from the lord... thank you.

And with that, he left the room.. leaving you puzzled.. normaly this shouldnt have happend.. and this doesnt happen in around 2 days!.. Oh dear.. you pray to the Lord that everything will go according to his will.. and then.. simply layed there on your bed.. snoring and sleeping in your burrito garment...

Somewhere else

...

???.. just smiled.. he seemed to be happy...

???:.. My dear spouse.. they have returned.. oh how exciting this will be, Darling I am waiting for you♡

(Cliffhanger :D)

Huff, this took some time to think through but for now I am done, I know I am technicly late but still HAPPY EASTERN SUNDAY, HE HAS RISEEEEEEN HALLELUJA!!!!!!,!^-*+&'KYXL

God bless ya all and stay blessed my readers.

[alwaysjustmina]

It seems this is another one I had never posted here. And I love this dancing series. I posted this back in April of 2023

Dancing in the Dark

Read below the cut or on AO3

Dew sat on the same chair in the corner of Rain’s room, playing on his phone while Rain lounged on his bed.

Dew didn't know Rain had seen him in the corner that day when he slipped quietly in his room and watched him. He let him believe he was unaware of his eyes roving over his body. He had a plan then and he has a plan now.

Rain flopped on his side to look at Dew as he sat there, him being the unaware one this time. Something must have been amusing as he had a slight smile on his face as he perused whatever it was that amused him on his phone. Many would think a smile was rare on that face, but Rain had seen them multiple times. His eyes would be the first to show his mood, you wouldn't notice it if you hadn't seen them up close. The pupils would dilate the smallest amount and then a slow crinkle would start on the edge of his eyes, his brows would lift a fraction, followed by his little nose scrunch, and then the corners of his mouth would lift upwards. Sometimes that is all you would get, which was amazing to see on its own. What was truly dazzling though, was when his lips would part in a grin, his tongue would dart out the smallest bit and then back in, his fangs would rest on his bottom lip, the area they pressed on slightly more rosey than the rest. Rain aimed for those smiles.

As he rested his head on the hand that propped him up, he continued to quietly observe Dew. They had returned to Rain’s room after dinner with the rest of the group, opting to be alone rather than sit with them in the commons watching a movie. Dew had hurriedly changed into softer pants from his jeans so they could lounge and do whatever they pleased. He had decided early on he was slightly cold and pulled a hoodie off of the back of Rain’s door. Rain had watched him do it from his bed, that Dew felt comfortable enough to just do this made his heart fill with warmth. He understood how arousing it was for Dew to see him in his t-shirt now. He kept lifting the collar up around his nose with deep inhalations. His eyes would shutter a little every time at the scent. When the collar wasn't up around his face, he would play with the strings, wrapping them slowly around his fingers and unraveling them again, pressing the ends every so often to his mouth.

Dew still hadn't noticed Rain observing him, which was probably for the best as he had a mischievous smirk on his lips ready to put his next plan into action.

"Hey, you care if I turn the speaker on? I don't feel like putting my earbuds in."

Dew just nodded thinking nothing of it, returning to whatever he was doing on his phone.

While Rain didn't want too much interest yet he was a little miffed that he didn't even look up. He wouldn't be able to resist what was coming.

Rain stood to turn on the speaker, and lower the lights a bit. Turning on a few lamps around the room and turning off the overhead. Still nothing from Dew that he even noticed.

Rain sat back down on the floor this time and pulled his phone down to start the new playlist he made just for Dew.

I've been a bad, bad girl

I've been careless with a delicate man

Rain casually sat against the bed, legs crossed as he started singing quietly to himself.

I've done wrong and I want to suffer for my sins

Starting to get slightly annoyed that Dew still hadn't looked up he became a bit louder.

And I need to be redeemed to the one I've sinned against, because he's all I've known of love

"Trying to tell me something?" Dew finally looked up from his phone, making direct eye contact with Rain. The corners of his mouth up in a small smirk.

Rain shrugged, "Nope, I just enjoyed the song."

"Hmmm. Really?"

"Yep."

"Ok." Dew stared at him a moment longer, trying to figure out the game, and then went back to his phone.

Hmm. Maybe that was the wrong song to start with. He grabbed his phone and scrolled to the next one.

You make it look like it's magic

Cause I see nobody, nobody but you

Dew looked back up again. Putting his phone aside to see what Rain was up to. Finally having his whole attention he started his plan.

You're my favorite kind of night

He licked his lips as he got up on his knees from the floor.

You're always worth it

He slowly lifted his t-shirt off his body with one hand, rubbing his other along the line of chest following the shirt as it left his body. His hips started to sway slowly from side to side as he lowered his face to look at the floor. Bringing his thumb up to play along his bottom lip, spreading the wetness along it. He raised his eyes to look through his long dark lashes at Dew.

Dew had his elbow on the arm of the chair, with his fingers holding his temple while he took in Rain. His eyes hot and smoldering, and as Rain pushed his thumb in his mouth, Dew inhaled sharply, leaving his mouth slightly agape as he watched.

Rain ran his hands back along his body, keeping his face angled down, his hair falling to cover his eyes. He slowly traveled his hands down to the button on his jeans, popping it open, to see more of that chiseled waistline. He looked back at Dew as he unbuttoned them. His eyes were trained on his fingers. When Rain made no motion to continue his eyes darted back to meet his.

"Rain," he breathed.

"Mmhmm?"

"Come here."

Rain gave him a sultry smile and bit his bottom lip as he dropped to all fours and slowly made his way across the floor to where Dew sat waiting for him.

As Rain moved he would arch his back and drop it back down, accentuating the lines of his body. The perfect lines of his body, arching, writhing, his ass squeezable, fuckable. Dew salivated as he watched him.

When he approached Dew, he kept his head low, nudging at Dew's ankle, biting at the hem of his pants and placing a light, chaste kiss on the bone. Changing from extremely sexy to sweet in an instant, Dew sighed at the sensation. He didn't stay at his ankle though. He brought his hands up to grab at his legs as he slowly lifted his body. He ran his hands up and down Dew’s legs as he placed his head on Dew’s thigh looking up at him again through his long eyelashes.

"Hey," Dew looked down at him. "What're you doin'?"

"Trying to show you something." Rain turned his head as he said it, mouthing at his thigh.

"And that'd be?"

Rain shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to be blatantly obvious with his carefully thought out plan.

Dew brought his hand not holding his head up to push it through Rain’s soft, dark hair, continuing his caress onto his neck, grabbing the back of it and moving him closer.

"Fucking kiss me," he begged.

Rain crushed their lips together, pressing himself between Dew’s open legs, bringing his arms around to sit on his hips and pull him closer to him. Dew groaned into his mouth when his cock made contact with Rain’s chest as he pressed into him. He pulled away, spit connecting their mouths, "Fuck, Rain, you are so fucking hot."

Rain had already moved onto his neck when he whispered that into his ear and growled, biting down on his lobe.

"Do you want my surprise?"

"Surprise? What surprise?" Dew asked with obvious confusion.

"Yes or no?"

"Of course yes, I want whatever you want to give, do, whatever."

Rain pushed Dew back on the seat and stood up. He turned back around to step back to his phone. When Dew saw he was leaving he grabbed quickly onto his hips and pulled him down onto him, biting his shoulder, "Don't go," he whined.

"You said you wanted the surprise."

Dew huffed under his breath and ground his cock into Rain, as he continued to suck on the mark he had started.

Rain laughed and pulled Dew's hands from his hips and quickly separated from him.

He turned around after he took several steps away. "Just give me a second, you will like this."

He quickly grabbed his phone and changed the song.

Home in the valley

Home in the city

As the song started, he turned back to Dew, who again was one the edge of his seat, and pushed him back to be flush with the back of the chair. As Dew complied he brought his legs up to straddle his body, and heard Dew gasp.

Burn out the day

Burn out the night

I can't see no reason to put up a fight

Rain pulled Dew’s hands to sit astride his hips as he descended and kissed him again. He pulled his bottom lip in his mouth, biting the soft flesh between his fangs. Letting go and licking at the indentations he made, making sure he didn't pierce the skin. He licked his tongue into Dew’s open mouth, finding his tongue meeting him on the journey.

As his mouth and hands were now occupied, Rain started moving his hips, swaying them side to side, up and down along with the beat of the song. Dew definitely noticed, as he whimpered into the kiss.

"Like that?" Rain asked as he pulled away.

Dew didn't answer, he just stared at Rain, enraptured, eyes glazed over and mouth open.

Rain continued what he was doing, leaning backwards, holding onto the side of the chair for balance, he moved his body in ways Dew had never seen him do before.

I'm livin' for giving the devil his due

And I'm burnin', I'm burnin', I'm burnin' for you

Dew watched as he held onto Rain’s ass, grabbing and trying to pull him closer. He could see his stomach muscles tighten as he went bent back and forth, grinding into Dew harder and harder on each pass.

On his next pass closer to Dew he whispered in his ear, "I AM burning for you."

"Fuck Rain," was all Dew could manage.

Rain reached to pull Dew's shirts off. "I now understand why you liked seeing your shirt on me, so fucking hot." He tossed them somewhere behind him on the floor.

"You're hot."

"I want to slide down on your cock, while you sit here, would you like that?"

He could see Dew visibly swallow and nod his head.

"I thought you would," he murmured into his ear.

Rain stood in a fluid motion, none of his normal fumbling were present, he was all grace and elegance. Rain stood directly in front of Dew as he unzipped his pants and pushed them down. "Fuck," Dew whispered as he realized Rain wasn't wearing underwear.

As Rain continued the last of removing his clothes, Dew reached and pushed his pants down.

The song switched again as Rain sat in Dew’s lap facing away from him.

You make it look like it's magic

'Cause I see nobody, nobody but you, you, you

He pulled Dew's hands to sit on his hips again as he rutted down to push onto him. Dew leaned forward to place fervent kisses along his shoulders.

"I am so hard, you are so-so sexy."

Rain didn't need Dew to tell him that, he could feel him pressing up inside him.

So I'ma care for you, you, you

He leaned back, his back flush with Dew's chest, placing his head on his shoulder as he looked up at Dew. Bringing his hands up he run them through his hair.

"Do you want me like this?"

"Fuckkkkkkk, I want-I want you however you want to, I just- want you now," he could barely understand Dew with all the stumbling.

Rain reached down by the side if the chair and pulled out a bottle of lube, putting some on his fingers, he reached behind him and started to press a finger into himself.

Dew watched as he did this, he couldn't not, he was directly in front of his face. As Rain pushed his finger in and out, Dew took the lube and put some on his hand as well. Before Rain could place another inside himself, Dew offered his finger, tapping at his entrance. Rain removed his, and let Dew continue, he pushed two fingers into his body. Moving them slowly, until Rain pushed back gyrating his hips into him.

Before Dew could decide to add another, Rain turned and grabbed Dew, spreading his hot precome up and down his length. As soon as he decided he was sufficiently wet enough he turned and slid back to sit on his length, sliding onto Dew in one pass. When he was seated inside, he paused to adjust to the feel.

Dew grabbed his hair pushing it to the side and sucked the skin from his neck into his mouth. If Rain moved front and back it would pull that skin from Dew’s mouth, instead, he pushed his pelvis out and in to feel the friction they both so desperately desired.

Dew continued to suck skin into his mouth between panting breaths.

"Like it?" Rain asked.

Dew again didn't, couldn't answer and instead grabbed Rain’s cock in his hand, and groaned into his neck.

Their pace picked up as they both pulled closer to the edge. Both moaning.

"If you continued to move like that I am going to come." Dew growled.

Rain didn't stop moving, he was so close to his release as well. He only pushed harder and harder into Dew.

He could feel Rain tighten his muscles as he was close, and then when he felt it around where he laid buried inside it was too much, too good. He let go with enough force to lift the both of them off the chair. His body going almost completely verticle from a seated position.

Feeling Dew’s hot come in his body, triggered Rain’s release. As he came, Dew nipped again at his neck and whispered the next line from the song.

Cause you're perfect

You're always worth it

And you deserve it

The way you work it

'Cause you earned it

Rain moaned, he didn't know Dew knew this song.

He slouched back into Dew as they both returned to the present, cold sweat breaking out across their bodies. Dew wrapped his arms around Rain keeping him close.

"You want to move?" Dew asked.

"No, stay together, don't leave."

"Never, I promise, babe." Dew pulled a blanket from a basket next to the chair to drape over their quickly cooling bodies as Rain brought his legs in to snuggle closer.

"Didn't know you knew that song," he whispered, practically asleep.

Dew didn't answer back, when he went to he realized Rain had falling asleep as he whispered, "You're fucking perfect and always worth it."

[skatermusic]

Rose

What was an overlord party without loud music-seriously, it was a wonder none of them had developed tinnitus over the millenia-food, catered by Bee, of course, booze, and Robo Fizzarollis recharging on chairs, some using their master's jackets as blankets?

Asmodeus shook his head and exhaled, sending out a puff of flame. He would never understand how Mammon had talked him into making the damn things. Though, he had to admit, he had done a fine job. The bots looked just as cute as their muse when he slept. He was so lost in his thoughts watching the bots recharge that he hadn't even noticed his best friend flying toward him.

"There's my favourite bitch! Been looking for you all night! Our song's next!" Bee exclaimed, hugging the Sin of Lust.

Asmodeus couldn't help but crack a smile, which then turned to giggles as she used two of her arms to drag him to the dance floor. It was physically impossible not to be happy around the Sin of Gluttony.

After a performance of Sweet Dreams, which Asmodeus was sure would go viral on Helltube by the time the party ended, the Sin went to the bar for a glass of champagne. As he enjoyed his drink, one of the Robo Fizz's stood out to him. She was a custom model wearing an elaborate red outfit tied with a maroon bow. What caught the Sin's attention, however, was the multitude of dents that littered her frame.

The Sin's heart broke for her. Cold clarity settled over Asmodeus as he inspected the charging doll. There was a high chance that those dents weren't from wear or tear, but abuse. He unplugged the poor bot, then carried her bridal style to his limo, without bothering with any goodbyes, or giving a fuck who this doll belonged to. They sure as shit weren't getting a refund or ever buying another bot again.

He texted Bee a brief explanation on the ride back to Lust. As soon as he arrived at his penthouse, he brought the doll to his workshop, where he charged her. Despite it being able to prove his suspicions about how she has been treated, Asmodeus didn't dare access the hidden camera in all Fizzarolli dolls to watch the footage. That was a breach of privacy akin to reading one's diary. He would wait for her to fully charge, then ask for consent.

An hour later, the doll powered on, and Asmodeus greeted her softly. "Welcome back, my dear. Your battery died."

The doll looked around the workshop, confused. What was she doing here? Daddy Valentino said her next check-up wasn't until after the extermination.

Asmodeus put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. "Sweetheart, where did all these dents come from? What happened?"

The bot's eyes widened and filled with oil, which she quickly blinked away. Daddy Valentino always punished her for crying, and the thought of what someone above him could do frightened her.

"Awww, c'mere. Let it out." Asmodeus opened his arms.

The doll threw herself into the Sin's arms and began crying into his chest, staining his suit. "It's okay, girl. It's okay, Ozzie's here. You're safe now." Asmodeus comforted, holding the doll tightly enough to comfort her, but gently enough not to damage her any further. "I'm gonna fix all those dents, okay? You got a name, hon?" Unfortunately, he had to ask. Some of the demons who purchased these dolls couldn't even be fucked to give them names.

Through sobs, the bot told Asmodeus that her name was Kitty.

"I'm so sorry, Kitty. You didn't deserve to be treated that way. NO ONE does." Once she had calmed down slightly, Asmodeus gently repeated his question from earlier.

Kitty gave the Sin her wrist, silently giving him consent to watch her camera footage. The poor thing was crying too hard to communicate, and despite Asmodeus' effort, was inconsolable.

Asmodeus smiled, flattered that the doll trusted him so much, even though she hadn't even known him for a day. "Thank you, love. You don't have to watch this if you don't want to. Big Ozzie just needs to know why you're so upset, okay?" This gave Asmodeus the idea to make the security camera detachable. He kicked himself for not thinking of this earlier as the footage loaded. While he waited, he texted his husband Fizzarolli a wrench emoji. Moments after pressing send, the jester entered the workshop.

Asmodeus walked to the door. "Hey, babe." He kissed Fizzarolli. "The poor girl hasn't stopped crying since she fully charged. Can you help calm her down while I check her camera feed?"

"Anything for you, Bi-I mean Ozz." Fizzarolli corrected. He had temporarily forgotten that terms like Daddy could be triggering for dolls, and was thanking Satan that he had caught himself in time.

Fizzarolli climbed onto the table and hugged Kitty. Once the footage loaded, he covered her auditory sensors.

Asmodeus immediately recognized Kitty's owner-Excuse him-abuser, Overlord Valentino. Fizzarolli was enraged as well. He tightened his embrace.

The footage had told the Sin all he needed to know about how poor Kitty had been treated under Valentino's ownership, and it made his blood boil. Asmodeus watched as much as he could handle, then turned it off.

Thankfully, by this point, Kitty had finally stopped crying. Fizzarolli and Asmodeus wiped the oil off her face.

Fizzarolli gave Kitty one last squeeze, then left to find her something else to wear. Overlord Velvette was an amazing fashion designer-Asmodeus knew her work when he saw it-but he knew the doll wouldn't want to wear clothes associated with an abusive situation. Now that he thought about it as he fixed her dents, maybe Kitty's outfit wasn't the only thing that needed to change.

"Kitty? Do you like your name anymore?" He asked as he finished.

Kitty shook her head. This wouldn't do. Someone's name was the one sound they heard the most. Individuals born into this world weren't given a choice in the matter, but after the quite literal hell she had been through, Kitty deserved that much.

But, it appeared the doll had already decided. He noticed her transfixed on the preserved rose Fizzarolli had bought him as a wedding gift.

"Petal?" Asmodeus guessed.

The doll shook her head.

He tried again. "Rouge?"

Another head shake.

"Rose?" Fizzarolli guessed, returning with the clothes.

Rose clapped happily, making the Sin of Lust giggle.

Fizzarolli showed Rose the outfits, which he was planning on donating, anyway. A black dress with roses and a pink off shoulder romper with daisies on it, among others. There was a mix between masculine and feminine outfits, just in case.

"If you don't like any of these, we can take you shopping, okay? I won't be mad." Fizzarolli reassured.

"Uh, babe? I think she likes the dress."

"This one?" Fizzarolli asked, holding up the black dress. Rose nodded. "Yep, that checks. It does have roses on it. Here, all yours."

"Thank you!" Don't get Rose wrong. She loved Fizzarolli and Asmodeus so much, but Daddy Valentino told her she was just a doll. She didn't deserve any of this. Fizzarolli gently cupped her face in his hands.

"Hey, I know it won't be easy, but try to forget whatever that fuckface told you, okay?"

Rose nodded.

Asmodeus decided to quiz her. "Who deserves to be treated with respect?"

"Fizzie does." Rose responded.

"And.....?" Asmodeus prompted.

She pointed to......."Ozzie!"

"Who else, hon?"

She didn't see anyone else in the room, so with hesitation in her voice, she guessed, "R-Rosie?"

"Damn right, you do!" Asmodeus praised.

Rose wrapped Fizzarolli and Asmodeus into a group hug and thanked them profusely.

Asmodeus laughed. "You're more than welcome, sweetheart. What do you say we change out of those clothes?"

Asmodeus had a thought as he zipped Rosie into the dress. Demons who mistreated their Robo-Fizzarolli were barred from ever buying another again, but Asmodeus felt that would be a slap on the wrist for Valentino.

"Rosie? Big Ozzie needs to make a phone call. You gonna be okay, sugar?"

Rose nodded.

"Alright, hon. If you need anything while I'm gone, let me or Fizzie know."

"Don't worry, babe, I'll put a movie on."

While Fizzarolli escorted her to their personal cinema, Asmodeus left his workshop and dialed a number.

On the third ring, a response and a familiar voice: "Immediate Murder Professionals, kids die for free."

Asmodeus gave a shit eating grin. "Blitz, it's Ozz. I need a fucker dead."

The dress in question:

[alchemic-elric]

@redwaterruin || Tringham has something to discuss

⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ 'Be Thou For The People', it was an alchemist's creed. Their lifeblood. Their Modus operandi and it was supposed to be their motive behind all their actions when the came to interacting with the world's public. Not just Amestris but everyone they met.

Seems like some people forgot this somewhere along the line.

Amestris is a mess to say the least and there's no real leader at the helm. In the two years he's been gone, Amestris became a democracy since the Colonel didn't fuck it up and managed to take down ol'man Bradley. With the Fuhrer gone, it gave the country a chance to grow and evolve in the same way their alchemy had to.

It was about time they started trying to function on more than just the principal of Equivalent Exchange. It was about time, as people, they evolved too.

With the military in different hands, his status as a convict was removed and erased from his record. With the military in different hands, his status as the Fullmetal Alchemist was restored and he still didn't quite know how he completely felt about it.

These people who would look him dead in the eye on a daily basis once hunted him like an animal at the drop of orders from a leader who only knew how to lie. Blind fools clinging to duty in order to preserve their fragile understanding of honor.

One half of him was screaming at himself to quit on the spot and throw the watch that was engraved with this sins back in the face of those who ruled over these lands but the other half was telling him to stay because now that he had much more life experience than that of a twelve year old - perhaps he could finally truly do some good.

Hero of the People was what they called him, so Hero of the People is exactly who they'd get.

He'd fulfilled his promise, and restored Alphonse back to his original body so nothing else mattered anymore. He didn't need to live in his grief and his self-sabotaging depression. He could - he could focus on moving forward one step at a time.

Winry made him an even better leg, so he might as well get up and use them.

So getting a letter in the mail from the Tringhams he could say was a surprise but somehow, even though it should have been one it wasn't. Russell and Fletcher had always been close. They weren't the best people in the world but they weren't the worst either. Misguided probably but he could say that about the Elric Brothers too if he really wanted to get technical.

It had been a letter to meet in Central and honestly, he had to say that was a bold move. With the way, the elder loved to borrow things that didn't belong to him, he was surprised, he'd show his face in such a place when there were people that were bound to believe that bold faced lie. It was an awfully risky move in his opinion but still, he'd show.

He's pushing open the door to a small café downtown not that far from Central Command and the alchemist takes a moment to scan through the small shop until golden eyes settle on the sight of blond and blue. He supposed this meeting was overdue with the way Russell had yelled down at him to 'Come back alive!' the last they saw each other.

The blond is taking a seat, donned in Amestris Blue from head to toe as he shifts in his chair to make his uniform a bit more comfortable.

"I toldja I keep m'promises, Tringham. Mighta taken a bit longer than I cared fer though." He pauses with a smirk spreading across his lips, his signature braid flooding down his back a bit longer than it had been all those years ago. "So what's up? How you been?"

[goblin-writer]

A Choice of Purpose

Their appearance was unexpected. Classically devils are meant to look seductive, powerful, maybe have red skin and horns that curve above their head. And they are meant to smell like sulphur.

Instead, standing before you, was a man in a grey suit. Not shiny or expensive, but drab and threadbare. His eyes listless and his skin looking as paper under office lights. Altogether you weren’t entirely sure that he was a devil and not just another of the many office workers that spent their days listlessly in front of a glaring screen.

“Finally. My colleagues told me about you. In the market for some change in your life? A step up from your wallowing existence? I have just the thing for you.”

His words danced around your mind even as his voice slipped out of your mind in an instant. It wasn’t that he looked unpleasant but you had trouble looking at him as he spoke. Although you had laboured unsuccessfully for months. That fantasy of a starving artist, not romantic but fevered and tragic. They had inspired you as a child, reading of the exploits of Erich Zahn, or Mr Scott, or that unnamed photographer. Now it all seemed to much. That prideful calling toward standing alone in your unacknowledged glory.

But it was too little. And so, you turned to the fourteen sins and virtues. Taking what little money your work gave you and toured the world. Making your way through holy sites and dens of sin. Hoping that an angel or a devil would cut you a deal to alleviate those dreams that burnt you and for which you had very nearly broken yourself over.

None had come. You stood in rose coloured light, walked through the desert, and climbed mountains. You had stood in shareholder meetings, lain in drug dens, and feasted when all reasonable people had gone to bed. Devil and angel had remained steadfastly absent. You had returned home. The streets now unfamiliar and the people pale comparisons to you. Waking with the sun and sitting on a chair until the day was nearly out.

You had stood before one of those steel and glass buildings that was never lit at night and wondered how they manage. People passed you, not noticing you. Glassy eyes glued to their destination or their phones. Moving with rote mechanism. Some people still smiled and looked about with bright eyes, shining, sparking, but there were so few of them.

You were ready to give it all up when that man, in his grey suit waved to you.

“Which colleagues?”

“The devils, and to a lesser extent the angels.”

“Which are you?”

“Does it matter that much? Both sides find me amenable to work with.”

“So you are neither.”

“Not at all. I am firmly devilish.” You nodded

“I had expected you to look different.”

“Most people do – But we aren’t here to discuss the lack of horns. You wanted a deal.”

“I want to feel less. Not emotions but -,” It is difficult to put into words.

“Not emotions but desires. That calling that haunts you, that burns you, that threatens to consume you.” It is all you can do to nod., “Well I can help with that.”

“But you aren’t one of the sins.” His smile didn’t slip even though it was clear that he didn’t like what you had said.

“I am Acedia incarnate.” Your eyes met his lacking all understanding. He sighed, “Take my deal and you will be able to put that fire in your chest to rest. You’ll be comfortable and kept.”

You wondered how that felt. You had a desire to create, to inspire. Not necessarily inspire more creation, maybe fear, maybe even its superior – caution. Looking at the sky you took a deep breath.

And stopped.

The smell of the city was gone. All around you it smelled like fluorescent light and the burning of laser printers. There was a monotony promised with it.  But was that what you wanted? A life of dull routine, boredom, and watching your dreams wither. The devil, that much was clear now had extended his hand.

After all was said and done you walked away from the building. Already you forgot the devil that had stood there with his outstretched hand. He faded quickly into the crowd of suits and empty eyes around him. Had you taken his hand? You didn’t quite remember.

Months later, now with somewhat steady work and employment with a newspaper you had a strange thought. Acedia. Taking out a small orange pen you jotted the name down and smiled as you got back to work.

---

Thank you @flashfictionfridayofficial​ for a lovely prompt. Very much enjoyed writing it.