#'And Miles is right to not listen to him'

[dadbodbuck]

WE'RE BREAKING UP

WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME.

WHY WOULD YOU TYPE THIS WORDS WITH YOUR FINGERS AND THEN PRESS POST.

GET AWAY FROM ME

hi jack unfortunately we got married when you weren't looking so you have to pay for an attorney :/

anyway

Buck texts him I need to talk to you and Christopher knows it’s going to be a bad day. He was actually thinking about coming home over Thanksgiving break—it’s not as clean as going back over Christmas, but he misses Denny (who’s been telling him a lot about his cool new sister during their nightly meme exchange), and he misses his school friends (even if they’re exhausting to be around sometimes), and worst of all he misses his family. He misses his dad, he misses Buck. He even misses Tommy—despite only having met him a few times, he knows he’s been good for Buck and for his dad. 

He liked seeing his dad smiling so much when he first started hanging out with Tommy, before her. He liked the way Tommy talked to him like an adult with his own thoughts and opinions. He liked the way Tommy talked about Buck, even though it was kind of gross seeing a grown man swoon that much.

But then. I need to talk to you. And it all comes crumbling down around him. Buck even has the nerve to follow it up with Can I call you? like some sort of therapist or school administrator. Chris opts for a video call, because he’s not eighty years old, and when Buck picks up, his eyes are bloodshot, his face is pale, and he’s nestled in his bed like a stereotypical teenager girl after she gets dumped.

Oh. Oh no. “What,” Chris says, and he kind of regrets the video call now, because Buck flinches back like he’s been physically hit.

“Uh, hey!” Buck says, trying to recover and failing miserably. The smile he plasters on his face looks so forced it’s painful, “How’s Texas in November treating you?”

Chris looks at Buck and decides to play nice. Just a little. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but you sounded like you had something important to talk about.”

“You’re right,” Buck sighs, “I’m procrastinating. I just wanted to let you know that Tommy and I have decided not to see each other anymore.”

And, yeah, Chris is pretty sure he knew this was coming, but it still makes him want to cry, or bite something, or throw his phone into the lake. “What happened?”

“Well—uh—Chris, I don’t���the details really aren’t important,” Buck says, with a wince, “What is important is that I love you, and your dad loves you, and just because Tommy won’t be around doesn’t mean you won’t have our support. I’m really sorry, bud. I know you liked him.”

It blindsides Chris, and he doesn’t know why. He should’ve seen this coming a mile away. He shouldn’t have gotten attached. He never should have sat down to watch The Batman with his dad and Tommy and stolen Tommy’s popcorn and talked shit on Buck’s taste in Star Wars Prequels. 

“What did you do?” Chris asks, feeling a startling rage building in his throat. It’s familiar, now. He doesn’t know how he knows, but he knows this is Buck’s fault. Buck looks like a dog that pissed on the carpet and is waiting for you to step on the wet spot.

Buck clears his throat, and visibly weighs truth and comfort in his mind. “I asked him to move in with me. It was—it was too fast—”

“You asked him to move in with you?” Chris balks, “He has a house!”

“I wasn’t thinking!” Buck hisses, “Listen, I know I fu—messed up. I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am, Chris. But it—it was the best decision for both of us.”

“You’re lying,” Chris seethes, because he knows so, so intimately the look of an adult lying to protect his innocence. “He made you happy. He made dad happy.”

Buck looks away, chin trembling, and Chris feels bad for all of three seconds before the rage consumes every other feeling in his chest. “Call me back when you find someone who wants to stay. Otherwise, keep your love life away from me. And maybe you stay away from me too.”

Chris ends the call, and two seconds later Buck is ringing him again. Chris doesn’t pick up, just sets his phone on his desk and buries his face in his arms. He doesn’t want to cry. He did too much of that after he got to El Paso the first time. But he’s going to miss Tommy. He’s going to miss seeing his dad smile like that. He’s going to miss the dopey lovesick way Buck moved through the world.

When Chris finally composes himself, he sees two more missed video calls from Buck, and a string of texts:

Love you, buddy. Sorry you’re upset. Call later to talk? Or call your therapist?

I really am sorry. I thought Tommy was going to stay too.

Text me pls? So I know you’re ok

Chris texts back: im fine. we’ll be fine. i need some time and gets a response almost immediately.

OK. Take the time you need. Your dad says if you decide to come back and you’re still mad you won’t have to see me if you don’t want to

Chris, always being left behind, feels a sick surge of satisfaction at the prospect. He could be the one who leaves. He can cut his losses before they’re fatal, he can amputate the limb before it goes septic. He texts Buck a single k back and does not examine the way something in the back of his head tells him, quite viciously, that this isn’t the first time that Buck’s been left this week.

[tessieee]

“Out of everyone in the Human Realm, why me?” MC x Main 7

Pairings: Obey me! Lucifer x MC, Mammon x MC, Leviathan x MC, Satan x MC, Asmodeus x MC, Beelzebub x MC, Belphegor x MC

༺═────────────��༻

It had been a particularly long day at R.A.D. Your professors droned on about subject matter you had been too drained to read about the night before, results for a test you were not confident about came in and you did way worse than you were expecting, and your nights grew shorter as you tried to keep up with the particularly hard material you were given that week. 

Once you finally arrived at the House of Lamentation, you kept your interactions with the brothers curt– no one failed to notice your slumped shoulders and distant answers. Your door shuts behind you, your body sliding slowly down the door. Dark thoughts raced through your mind a mile a minute as you buried your head into your hands. Why am I even here?

 The weight in your chest became heavier as the days went by and it wasn’t unusual for you to have days where you'd feel like you were incompetent. That there would be so many better choices for a human exchange student other than yourself. There are smarter, prettier, more athletic people. Why you? 

Not much time passes before you hear a knock at your door, and you promptly let the demon in.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • · Lucifer ~

The first thing he notices about you is your teary eyes, usually filled with the same wonder for life he lost so long ago. It broke his heart to see you this way. Still, he remained stoic; someone had to be levelheaded. 

“I brought your dinner.” His eyes trail up and down your vulnerable figure, taking in your emotional state. “If there is anything I can do to alleviate your distress, please tell me.”

And there he was, sitting on the floor by your bed right by your side. He’d insisted that you accompany him to his room but you refused to move. Curled up into a fetal position, you were basically cemented onto the ground. At first, he’d been taken aback by your sudden outburst– the sobs that racked your chest while you spilled your whole day onto him. All he did was sit there and listen, which was just as much as you could’ve asked for. Lucifer trailed his hand to your upper back, caressing it softly until you leaned into him. When you finally took your face away from your knees, he was greeted by your puffy eyes and snotty nose. You felt embarrassed but the day had taken its toll on you and you were too tired to care. 

Lucifer gazes at you sympathetically, he knows better than anyone what it’s like to have days that wear you down. He also knows that outbursts with the intensity yours had aren’t just from momentary things, this was something you’ve kept over time. He curses himself for not noticing sooner, perhaps he could’ve had this conversation with you sooner.

“This might be stupid but,” The demon perks up at your shaky voice, raspy from the lament. “I just felt so pathetic. I started to question… Why me? Y’know?”

“I don’t. Do you mind elaborating on the subject?” His expression shifts from sympathy to confusion. 

You sniffle, finally regaining consciousness after the crying spell. Wiping your tears from your red, swollen eyes and taking a deep breath, you finally answer his question.

“I mean- I just feel so… Insignificant.” You start, looking off to the side, almost ashamed to admit this out loud. “Out of everyone in the Human Realm, why me? What’s so special about me?”

You continue, once again allowing the words to spill from your lips.

“There’s nothing about me other humans have if not more! What if you all visit the human realm one day and you meet other humans and you realize that I’m not..”

“Not what?” 

“I’m not anything special. Nor important.” His expression became more tender as you admitted the main thing that had been bugging you all this time. He could see the way a weight lifted off your shoulders and your teary eyes seemed to relax. At last, your body relaxes the muscles you never recalled tensing up in the first place. A comfortable silence ensued in your words, followed by Lucifer pulling you closer to him so your curled-up body rests more on him. You take a moment to notice he’d been sitting criss-cross the whole time. This distracted you enough to let out a sigh of relief. The eldest demon brother rests his head on yours, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head and taking in your scent. “You’re missing the bigger picture, here.” He murmured.

“Huh?” Your thoughts were so loud, you almost missed it.

 “It’s offensive to yourself to take away so much credit from a remarkable human.”

Tears welled up in your eyes again.

“My brothers and I have been around much longer than you. We’ve all known humans; what they're like, and what they’re capable of. You may not be worthy in your impossible standards, but to us– to me– you are more than enough.” Fat tears roll down your puffy cheeks once again, yet these are silent. You smile at your lap as his words sink in, allowing yourself to relax more into Lucifer’s frame. He welcomes you in, allowing the both of you to share a moment. He believes in you, he always has. “Thank you, Lucifer.” You sniffle, sincerity laced in your words. “Thank you so much.”

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Mammon ~

 No words are exchanged between the two of you; simply relying on facial expressions to end up in your favorite spot to gossip in the room. However, at this point, it was unfair to reduce your bed to simply gossiping. Over time, Mammon had practically moved in at this point. He kept a spare charger and toothbrush there– you never complained.

He cradles you gently in his arms and lets you cry, similarly to how you had comforted him countless nights after arguments with his brothers that got out of hand. You two were a team, the terrible twos, two peas in a pod. He was your first, and you, his human. The sight of you broken down in his arms, distraught to no extent, truly unsettled something in him. Moments you had spent with him fly through his head as he searches for a sign as to when you started to feel this way. Was it something he said? Or did? To be fair he did only sell one thing, but if that’s what had you in this state then he’d go to the ends of all three realms to get it back. 

 The secondborn ran his fingers through your hair, being careful to not tug too hard on the tangles. Cooing quietly, attempting to soothe your obvious pain in any way possible. To his relief, you eventually calmed down enough to tell him what exactly was going on. You don’t think much as you tell him about your day, running by every incident in every class. Mammon takes note of the way your body shivers and grows colder as you speak of the anxiety-inducing day and doesn't miss a beat before messily throwing your comforter over the both of you. The cool cloth smelled like a pool of the both of you, taking you back to a multitude of memories of the both of you staying up far longer than you needed to simply talk.

“And with all of this, I just couldn’t help but think that I’m just not good enough.” You cry out weakly, exhausted from your outpour. “That if you met literally any other human you’d realize I could never live up to them. You’d all forget me!”

Hearing you say this tore his heart apart. 

“Oi, whaddya’ even talking about?” He was dumbfounded by your feelings. How could his human feel this way? His human! The thought of you being anything along the lines of what you claimed to be confused him. You could just look off to the side, heat rising to your face in slight embarrassment. He was acting like you'd just said the most ridiculous thing in the world. "Don't go sayin' stuff like that about ya'self. I'll sock you in the face if you do."

You scrunch your nose in amusement before returning to the same sad pout. Doubts continued to cloud your mind just as quickly as they left.

“Out of everyone in the Human Realm, like, ever. Why me?” You hiccup quietly, wiping a tear with the side of his shirt leaving behind a small, damp, glossy spot. Mammon flashes you a look, usually, this would earn you a playful shove but this wasn't something he'd fix with jokes or banter. He supposes he’ll let it slide. For now.

“Well… cuz’ yer’ uhh..” The avatar of greed struggles to find the words to properly express the utter adoration he has for the human in his arms at this very moment. At the same time, he dealt with the shock of hearing such a thing come from you. The thought alone of him giving someone else the same time or feeling the same way for someone else just made him uncomfortable. He swore he'd end the person who inspired this insecurity in you. So many feelings seem to cancel out the moment he attempts to say them out loud.

“Listen, I dunno’ why or how Diavolo picked you, but I’m damn glad he did.”

You don’t hide your disappointment at the short response he gives you. Luckily you read his expression as deep in thought, so you give him a moment. 

“All this time we’ve spent together, Human, is the most fun I’ve ever had running get-rich-quick schemes or even getting my ass whooped by Lucifer or– or in class–” He stops himself before he can continue rambling to you.

“Point is, yer’ irreplaceable! There's like a trillion humans, right?” “Well..!” You start with a gentle correction before he continues. “An’ there's only one you. I’m lucky to be the one to enjoy you, so don’t go round’ letting others enjoy you too, kay?” His words tug at your heartstrings resulting in a big goofy grin spread upon your pink and puffy lips. You nod your head at your first man, being more than happy to comply with his request. No one gave you such validating reassurance quite like he did. Who could blame him? You were his human after all and when you struggled he promised himself he'd be there just as much as you were there for him.

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Leviathan ~

“I-I know you’re upset! So I brought some snacks and games– or we can just watch something and not talk! Your choice! Or– or we can talk about it. Do you want to talk about it?” The rambling demon stands at the foot of your door, your red eyes and tear-streaked face look up at him sourly. You almost felt bad since he was being so nice and his attempt at comforting you was so cute. 

“Hey! Don’t zone out on me like that!” He pouts, brows furrowed with worry. “Do you want to be alone?” “Not really, please come in.” He nods and complies, blushing furiously at the position he found himself in. What would others think if they saw him going into your room alone?! With presents! And a desperate expression!

“Set that stuff down anywhere,” You sniffle quietly, looking up at Levi whose arms were full of comfort items he’d brought for you. He awkwardly dumps some of the things on your bed and the floor in no particular order. The air between you two is tense, he wonders if he’s the right person for this job. Then again, he wanted to be the one to comfort his player 2. 

“Can we just play Devilkart™ for a little bit?

“Please.”

And so, the two of you played Devilkart™ until you could finally breathe without sniffling every five seconds. The quiet time allowed for you to relax, usually Devilkart™ nights are full of yelling curses at each other and bets as to who’d win, but tonight you both just sat there in comfortable silence. The sounds from the TV comforted you, the soft lighting of it in your dark room and warmth from Levi’s body shifted your mind from its corner in your brain. 

 After a couple rounds, you scooted closer to Levi who failed to react nonchalantly as you felt his body tense when your head rested on his shoulder.

“Wh–oa. You okay? 

“It’s not fair, I could never be as great as some of the humans out there. I’m not worthy of being here.”

“What?” He blinks, shocked by the sudden confession. Your words process in his head and hit too close to home. You sounded like him.

“That’s… that’s not true and you know it” Levi shifts the position you two are in, this time allowing his arms enough space to hold your shoulders. As to make sure you hear what you’re about to say— as if he could yank you out of the slump you were in, dust you off, and the balance would be restored.

Was it bad he wanted to kiss you?

“What if Diavolo picked a celebrity, or a model, or an idol!?” Your hands trail to his wrists, holding tightly but not pushing away. More tears race down your face, shameless and loud. 

“You’d all have no idea who I am— out of everyone in the Human Realm, why me?” 

“Because you’re— you— you’re special! How do you not see it?” His voice raised slightly, getting heated as you did. Leviathan takes a moment to lower his tone again; it was beyond him why you felt this way, he couldn’t fathom someone so perfect ever feeling anything but. If he had your charisma, your good looks, your wit— he doesn’t know what he’d do but he just knows it wouldn’t be feeling this way and it certainly wouldn’t be seeking out the comfort of an otaku.

“You’re like… my— my confidant! Thanks to you my stats are— they’re stronger than ever!” You could cook an egg on his face, burning to the touch. 

“Really?” His reference momentarily allowed you to sniffle your emotions down. Knowing him, he was anxious out of his mind to confess how he felt. 

“D’aw!” You coo teasingly, sniffling once again and rubbing your cheek against the hand still gripping onto your shoulder. The atmosphere alone felt hot, he was flustered. 

“Levi, that was sooo sweet!” 

“Huh?! What’s with that shift?!”

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Satan~

He had noticed that you were struggling in class, confirmed by when you went to his room one night to ask for help with an assignment. Since then he’d been trying to help you, you seemed okay. That didn’t prevent him from being disappointed in himself when you came home and locked yourself in your room. 

Satan had been in your room way less than you’d been in his. His hand gripped your favorite book tightly as he stood awkwardly in your room. You let him in, now what. It was unusual for him to go into situations unprepared like this, he needed a moment to gather his thoughts. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shrug, dejected by the day’s events. Exhaustion took over your body and the last thing you wanted was to expel your burden onto him. Satan’s expression softened from seeing your mood shift. At least you weren’t crying anymore?

“Lets lay down. How’s that sound, hm?” He nods towards your bed, you lead the way.

The avatar of wrath displays impossible softness around you, stroking your hair with one hand and skillfully holding onto your favorite book in the other. You feel the vibrations from his chest where your face lies, his rich voice bringing your favorite characters to life. He’d introduced you too the book not long after you first made a pact with him. Since then, you’d read the copy of it he and you shared. The book was loved, usually Satan wouldnt be able to stand the tattering of a book but the little notes and scribbled annotations peppered on the margins stood out. It was more than just a story now; a display of your blossoming friendship, the small fingertip touches whenever you’d exchange the book between you two to read the week’s notes from the other, and the way you began to look forward every time you planned an exchange of the book. 

“There are few people whom I really love,” He reads, leaning his head on top of yours. “and still fewer of whom I think well. The more I see of the world, the more I–”

Satan stops himself; he took note of the way your breathing steadied and your eyes drifted shut. Your form lay against him peacefully as he slowly put the book away and readjusted your position so that you could both drift off to sleep.

When you woke up, there was a cup of tea by your nightstand. Steam was still emanating from the top of it– you take it in your hands and blow gently. Too tired to process the absence of warmth that Satan’s body provided before he left, you take a small sip of the herbal liquid. 

“Ready to talk about it?” He appeared from the front of your door, shutting it gently behind him. His brothers were worried sick and flooded the fourth eldest with questions about how you were doing and if an intervention was required. He simply reassured them that everything was under control. 

“In hindsight, it’s kinda’ silly. I don’t want to trouble you with it” 

“If it’s about you, it's never silly. Talk to me, please?”

You sigh, eyes dashing to the side as he approaches the side of your bed taking a seat for himself. The sip of tea you took sits warmly in your mouth, any attempt to stall admitting to him how you felt. You swallow hard.

“I just feel like… In comparison to other humans, I fall short.” You tangle a hand through your hair tugging at the strands gently. The demon on your bed shifts his body more towards you. You had his attention now– intrigued by your insecurity he stays silent hoping you tell him more.

“Makes me think, out of everyone in the Human Realm, why me?” A short pause fills the air with tension. “I wish I was special.” 

“But you are the most remarkable human I’ve ever had the privilege of spending time with.” His words seem to heal something in you. You wondered when you began to care so much about what he thought of you. “Truly, I have never caught myself admiring a human with the same intensity.”

Your heart skips a beat while he’s speaking. The grip on your mug tightens and the look on your face reads disbelief. How long has he felt this way? 

“Ad–admiring? Satan..”

“Believe me when I say you are anything but unremarkable. You’ve worked your way into all of our hearts… Mine especially.” A soft blush crept onto his face, you noticed. 

Satan held much more passion for you than you originally thought. Your arms wrap themselves around his neck to bury your nose in the crook of his neck and he wastes no time before returning your affection. You couldn't quite put your finger on his scent, but you knew it smelt like home. 

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Asmodeus~

Asmodeus followed you to your room the moment he saw your teary eyes. The two of you had been inseparable since you arrived at the Devildom. Whenever your attention wasn’t being demanded by all of the other responsibilities you bore simply by being a human and existing in the Devildom, you were in his room. No one had ever made him laugh the way you did, regardless of what you two were talking about. Lady Luck worked her magic when he met you. 

“Oh, darling…” A sympathetic look laced his porcelain features at seeing your trembling shoulders. Choking on your sobs, you shove your hands towards your face being embarrassed to be seen this way. You felt like a mess, you probably looked like one too. Overhearing your classmates during lunch enlightened you to what they considered you to be. Sometimes you forget that outside your circle of love provided by the exchange program, a lot of demons still had to shift their mindsets when it came to humans.

Little time passes before the avatar of lust takes your body and pulls it close to his. Seeing you this way made him anxious, though he’d never admit it out loud, he liked how it felt. Asmo wanted to care for you almost as much as he cared for himself and it showed. He never missed a chance to offer you some sort of joint self-care sessions that you grew fond of over time.

“That's it, love.” He cooed, peppering kisses on the top of your skull as you spilled muffled wails into his designer sweater. “Cry it out.”

 Panic struck his face for a moment, maybe putting more thought into drabbing down before comforting you would have been the smart choice. What a silly thought! It was impossible for someone like him to drab down. 

The texture of the cashmere comforts your nose that you’d rubbed raw.  was broken by the demon’s quiet humming. An unfamiliar melody lulled you to a less troubled state, gentle and kind. Asmodeus’ flirty behavior turned you off when you first arrived in the Devildom. Back then everything was so new and overwhelming and a part of you couldn’t stand all of the demons around you. Being received with such affection was a foreign feeling to you which you just excused as ingenuine. That didn’t stop your mind from wandering every once in a while– with all the touches on the shoulder when he’d run into you after class, the back rubs when you’d spend the night gossiping in his room, the charged eye contact when he would do your makeup– you couldn’t help but look forward to the next time he would be around.

“Darling, why don’t you tell me what’s going on now?” His cold hand soothes your red-hot face, your sobs had eased into quiet huffs. “Keeping this to yourself won’t relieve the pain in your chest.”

A sigh follows Asmo’s words. You never had to deal with anything alone now that Asmodeus was by your side. His presence felt so bright in comparison to yours– how he always knew how you felt and what you needed was what confused you. To have someone be so attentive to your needs and the push and pull of your emotions was new to you. When you drowned in your feelings he was always there to save you. For a while you were suspicious of his intentions– unsure if the interest he took in you was anything genuine. But now you realize that you had never felt so seen by another entity before and by having someone to help you recognize your worth, you began to appreciate life.

“I can’t shake the feeling that if you guys ever meet another human… I don’t know Asmo, this is pointless, I feel better now!” This earns you a deadpan from the demon.

“What about me interests you so much?” You raise your voice, eyebrows arched with annoyance. Emotions clouded your judgment making it easy for you to fall back into your old thinking habits. You found it unfathomable for someone to care for you without hidden intentions and not knowing if Asmo had any frustrated you.

“I don't deserve this!” Your hands motioned between the two of you pointing out his affection.

“Asmo, I feel awful.” You frown. “I had an awful day and heard awful things from the people in my class and–” Silence. 

“Out of everyone in the human realm, why me?” Asmodeus furrows his brows, exhaling sharply. Your words didn’t go without hurting. He figured that he had nothing to hide from you so that that would earn him some trust. This didn’t stop him from brushing it off; your insecurities already haunted one person and he couldn’t make it become two for your sake. 

“Because a human quite like you is hard to come across. Your soul is like a diamond, love. The toughest, shiniest, most eye-catching diamond.”

“You don’t mean that.” Bitterness is laced through your words. You didn't understand why he felt this way about you. The unknown regarding why he felt that way flustered you, everything about your borderline erotic friendship with the avatar of lust flustered you.

Your heart skips a beat and a quiet sniffle breaks the silence. Asmodeus made you nervous. Sure, he was never shy with letting you know how he felt about you, but you were at your lowest and here he was; with you. Then it dawned on you. Anyone else could’ve come to check on you but it was Asmodeus who followed you straight to your room, as if he could feel what you felt. You wanted someone to chase after you and somehow he knew that. It irritated you and made you swoon at the same time. Realization dawned on you. The demon cradling you in his arms wasn’t the root of your frustration but the fear of being known the way he knew you.

 You learned a lot from your time with Asmo. Thanks to him you knew you deserve the love he gave you. 

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Beelzebub~

After hearing your door slam shut the brothers could only shrug at each other. They shared confused looks until they all landed on Beelzebub, who had been shoving some of your favorite snacks into his pockets and grabbing some for himself on the way to your room. 

“Should we come too?” Belphegor chimes in. The sound of your door had stirred him awake. His groggy expression provoked a softness in his brother’s face. 

“I think that would overwhelm them.” He says, barely swallowing the food in his mouth before speaking. “Be right back.”

Hastily he makes his way up the stairs to your room to not be tempted to eat the snacks he saved for you. Luckily, the ones he brought for the road had been devoured after you let him into your room.

Beelzebub was faced with your red nose and teary eyes. With a sharp inhale, he pats his bulging pockets which he packed full of snacks for the both of you. 

“Hey. Can I come in?” You nod and sniffle. A weak smile graces your sad features at seeing the avatar of gluttony at your door. Over time he’d become less aloof around you and since you’d started to spend more time together you had a firsthand experience of how loyal and caring he really was. Having him there in your room checking on you made you flustered, you liked it— you like him— a lot.

His large hands dug into his pockets, emptying out the contents before taking a seat on your bed. Beel pats the seat next to him which you trudge over to and take a seat. 

“Beel?” You rest your head on his shoulder. The bag of your favorite chips crinkles loudly as you tear it open. “D’you ever feel like you’re nothing special?”

This confused the demon by your side. What did you mean, nothing special? He couldn’t imagine you and those words being in the same sentence, much less spoken by you. Spending time with you and knowing of your equal fondness and understanding towards Belphie made you practically perfect in his eyes. To him, you oozed kindness. Yet he understood where you were coming from. To be reduced to one word to summarize your entire being was an experience he was far too familiar with, even with loved ones. Seeing your hurt-ridden face felt like a punch to the stomach. 

“All the time.” The words come out quietly from his mouth as if he’d also been admitting something. His strong hand reaches over your body and into the open chip bag you had yet to eat out of. The sounds of his crunching serves as white noise while you think. You couldn’t possibly fathom someone like Beel feeling the way you do. If you looked like that you’d probably be an asshole, you were hot so you figured you’d never have to be nice to anyone. You chastise yourself for your thought process.

“People will have their idea of you,” Beelzebub rubs your back gently and an empathetic look in his eyes glistens in your direction. “If that's all you are to them it says more about them than you.”

Your smile becomes genuine as he cheers you up. Perhaps he’s the type to pay attention during the pep-talk before a big game of Fangol. The thought made you laugh sadly. Beel catches a glimpse of your expression. He smiles too.

“Yeah, you’re right.” You say a thoughtful frown etched onto your features. Reaching into your bag of chips you grab a couple to hold in your mouth while you and Beel sat there. The plush mattress dips under your weight as you take a seat right behind where the sixthborn was sitting. He turns to look at you with confusion but you take his face in your hands and gently turn it the other way. Beelzebub doesn’t question you when you start to run your fingers through his ginger locks and he knows better than to comment as you start to braid strands of his hair together. 

“That tickles.” He says through a mouth full of the chips you made the mistake of abandoning on the floor near him. You give him a tired giggle which is all you can muster up. The demon gives himself a couple of seconds to finish up the bag before continuing with his point. He felt like it wouldn’t be fair to you to just leave it like that. A part of you still looked upset.

“There’s no one like you out there.” Assuredness drips from his words. As if he’d practiced this in the mirror a million times over before heading to your room. “Not in all the three realms.”

“You’re special to us all and I..” He hesitates for a moment, furrowing his brows in thought. Why did he feel shy all of a sudden? A light blush dusted his cheeks as thoughts about you ran through his mind. “Really think you’re special.” 

“Very detailed, thank you, Beel.” You say with feigned satisfaction. The hair you were braiding slipped from your fingers as the demon turned to give you an incredulous look. Laughter bubbles in your chest at seeing the way his head tilted, you were fond of the demon and not fond of the way it felt like you’d just kicked a puppy in front of him with the expression he was shooting in your direction.

“I’m kidding.” You slid your arms around his neck, resting your weight on his built shoulders. That’s a feeling you’d never get tired of. “Thank you, Beelz”

A large hand trails toward your forearm, which grounds you in the moment. Suddenly you both become aware of how close you are to each other. You can feel his breath on your arms; he’d pull you closer if he could. 

“Yeah.” The simple response from the demon certainly didn’t speak for his complex feelings for you. He knew he’d do anything to keep that pretty smile on your face. 

• —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Belphegor~

“Hey, you’re kinda’ being really loud. Do you mind– uhm…” 

Belphegor was faced with the unexpected. He assumed that when he’d go complain to the human you’d apologize, laugh it off, and invite him in– which he would’ve reluctantly accepted whilst already falling asleep in your bed– but there you were, sobbing and glaring furiously at him. Did he even do anything?

“Whoa, alright what’s with the face? Let me in.” You grumble something under your breath that you’re glad he doesn’t hear. The door creaks as he pushes through it and scans your room, eyes locked onto your soft, unmade bed. Not that he cared.

“I dunno Belphie…” You stare helplessly as he walks by you. “I don’t feel good right now.”

He shrugs you off. There’s nothing he couldn’t help you get over. Someone like you shouldn’t have to be worried about anything. You have one of the most comfortable beds in the Devildom and seven doting demons who care about you— if that isn’t the makings of a stress-free life he didn’t know what was.

“Kay’ then.” The demon makes himself comfortable on your bed. You helplessly watch as he curls up in your crying spot. 

“What I meant was that I wanna’ be alone?” 

“Belphie?”

He was fast asleep. Of course, he was! Why would you expect him to respect your wishes? Frustration displayed itself proudly on your face as you watched the seventh-born sleep. You were jealous of how peacefully he slept.

“Whatever. Why would you care?” You mumble, taking advantage of the fact he was knocked out cold. “You of all people would agree I’m not shit.”

The floorboards creak quietly as you pace around your room, rubbing up and down your arms for comfort. If you stopped moving you’d likely start crying again and you’d rather not wake Belphegor just for him to see you cry.

“Of course I’m not special.”

“This is so stupid. Now I can’t even have a pity party in peace.”

 You feel the tears well up in your eyes again. Just when you managed to stop them your tear ducts were betraying you. The steady flow of tears began once again, your chest heaving with sorrow. No sounds escape from your mouth until you have to inhale again. Trying to keep yourself quiet, you slap a hand over your mouth. Heading to the bathroom to cry seemed like the only valid solution at this point.

“Why do you want to be special so bad anyway?” The avatar of sloth’s drowsy voice snaps you out of your ramble. His eyes shift lazily across you, taking in your distressed appearance. You whip your head around towards him making a pathetic attempt to clean your face from the tears and snot that expressed your dread.

“What?” You stutter out. A quiet yawn is emitted from the demon before he sits up to face you.

“What’s so good about being special that it deserves to have you pining for it like this?” This earns a scoff from you. 

“You were listening the whole–” You cut yourself off before setting off on the demon. To alleviate the pressure of an oncoming headache you pinch your nosebridge, hoping the tension won’t get worse. “Belphie, I feel like I’m gonna break down. If you don’t care to help then leave.” 

Mentally you cursed yourself for allowing Belphie to see such a side of you. Even when you were trying to be stern your voice shook with uncertainty and hurt. He seems to visibly soften with your words, understanding that now wasn't the time to banter or push your buttons. It wouldn't be fun to see your reaction if he did. Belphegor stifles a yawn which turns into a long sigh.

“You’re pacing y’know” You shoot him a furious look before he speaks again. “Look, it's just lame you think this way cuz’ you don’t even have to try to be unique.”

You let him talk this time. 

“It’s what draws people to you. I mean, who else can deal with our problems the way you do and then still have energy to give after.” A soft grin graces his lips. “I’d be exhausted.”

Damn it. How emotional were you exactly? Tears slipped out of your eyes as he spoke, your heart holding on to every word and the knowledge that Belphie did understand. Part of you was afraid you’d just be brushed off by the demon but after everything you had been through with them made it silly for you to think so. Belphie cared for you too, in his own way. He nods to the side you usually sleep on and makes room for you to lie by him. Not much time passes before your head is resting on the nook of his shoulder and his fingers trail shapes lazily on your side. You always forgot how tired breakdowns made you. You always forgot how safe sleeping by Belphegor’s side made you feel, ironically enough. Whether you were special or not to everyone else stopped concerning you so much now that you knew how special you truly were to someone who never would’ve given humans a chance in the first place. With your mind finally at rest, you could drift off to sleep.

༺═────────────═༻

Oh mty glob finally its done T_T I'm so sorry for taking a billion years on these I tried my best to not make any part longer than the other or anyone OOC. Im super anal when I see a character I really like is OOC so if anyone sees that and has tips for how to write them I'm all ears!!

Thank u for reading <3

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

[yandere-sins]

I also had another random thought about being Konig's platonic darling and Ghost's romantic darling at the same time!

In a lot of fics, darlings are mostly seen as rabbit or caged birds right? I personally think that kortac operator!reader is a swan. Why? Swans glide gracefully, but that's on the surface. They're paddling madly under the water. That's her! Being an operator means that darling shows excellence, but doesn't show her struggles to achieve that position. Also, doesn't have the privilege of opening up because that is a privilege reserved for the rookies. Operators can't do that. In Kortac, darling doesn't have the privilege about opening up about Konig. I believe that all readers are beautiful, so that, plus looking perfect in the surface, radiate swan energy.

And Ghost, being an extremely sharp man with good instincts can see that she's "paddling madly under the water" despite the perfect exterior. Maybe this is what attracted him to her?

A little scenario came to mind! I hope you don't mind me adding on to this ^-^

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

"Ain't you tired?" a deep, gravelly voice called out to you from behind. You flinched, all your training gone the second either Ghost or König were around, and you'd know his accent from anywhere. Glancing over your shoulder, you spotted him hidden in the dark shadows along the wall near you, leisurely leaning against the metal while raking his eyes up and down your body.

It wasn't like you needed to fear him. What you needed was to pay attention to the meeting happening in front of you, although you had to admit you had long tuned out the voices explaining new adaptions to the handbook on how to behave with fellow operators. For a while, you had been watching König, his hulking form a few rows in front of you, other, lower-ranking soldiers separating you just like you wanted. He kept shifting his weight, stealing glances back at you, making sure you were still there.

Of course, you were. You were tired, not disobedient.

"You're not supposed to be here," you mumbled back, your sentence containing the slightest hint of a question even though the fact remained. He wasn't a KorTac operator; he didn't need to take part in a meeting with them. "And you should be sleepin'. Can see your eye bags from a mile away."

"Charming..." you sighed. "You came here just to tell me that?"

"Nah. Just lookin' out for my darlin'."

You took a deep breath, widening your stance as if to put up a stronger barrier. Naturally, König's head snapped around, checking why you were moving. Still, his focus was so sharply on you that he completely missed the ghost hiding in the shadows. König was obviously annoyed about the standing arrangements, rank never suiting him whenever he had to be a professional while in the same room with you. His neck stretched, making him even taller (as if he didn't already surpass all the other soldiers), yet, when you shrugged at him, he resigned himself to listening to the lecture. Was he disappointed there was no danger? One, where he could swoop you up and carry you to safety?

"I'm not tired, thanks," you finally replied to Ghost's question, speaking slowly and calmly to not raise suspicion by letting your voice ring through the rows of operators. If König—who you were sure by now this meeting was about as someone must have ratted him out for how he was behaving around you—wasn't enough of a stress factor, you really didn't need an additional hen to hoover over you.

"No foolin' me. I know he kept you on your toes last night. Always does, that bastard. The thrill of the chase, yeh? But won't you get tired from being the mouse?"

"It's not ideal," you offered, a small acknowledgment of the truth. "But he's my colonel, and I respect him. Can we leave it at that?"

Ghost sighed, and you felt his presence step up to your back rather than hear it. Uncanny, that's what he was. That was the reason your skin turned into goosebumps as he stood behind you, shrouded in darkness like an apparition rather than a fellow human being.

"Sure, darlin'. You can have me bed if you need to sleep for once. You know where to find me."

And then, as silently as he appeared, he was gone again, leaving you with that offer. Biting your lip, you hated how tempting it was. How secure it felt to put your trust in him. You knew better than that; knew he was on the opposite side of the spectrum of the horror you were living.

Ghost made it very clear that he wanted you, perhaps in the same way as König, just... carnally. König wanted his version of you, to be with you, to obsess over you, love you. Take care of you although you were perfectly able to do so yourself. The job was dangerous, sure, but in his version, you were a pitiful, debilitated thing to care for. One that needed him almost as much as he seemed to need you. But Ghost... he wanted more than that.

He wanted to win you over, wanted to mold and bend you as he pleased, wanted you feisty yet helpless to his demands. He wanted you screaming and crying, but he wanted you to come to him despite the eery promises of discomfort he emitted. There was more possessiveness in his eyes every time you saw him, more lust, more desire. Perhaps it was a form of love, too, but it was hard to understand either man obsessing with you.

"[Name]?"

Shit, the meeting.

"Y-Yeah?" you replied quickly, not wanting to be caught. König towered in front of you, his body blacking out the low-hanging lights he had to duck underneath.

"Who were you talking with? I saw your mouth move."

"N-No one, Colonel! I was repeating what I was learning."

"Oh... I see. Good. That's good."

You noticed his eyes prying away from you, scanning the area behind you briefly. "Let's go then. You didn't have your breakfast yet, did you?"

Lifting his arm behind your back, it hovered there. Not close enough to touch, even if you knew he was edging his fingertips over your shoulders, but it urged you forward in a gesture so natural, no one batted an eye. You sighed as you picked up a pace that König had very little problem keeping up with, but you knew that not all suspicions were quelled just with your verbal confirmation. He'd be even more careful and attentive—which was hard, considering he was overbearing on the good days.

And suddenly, Ghost's invitation felt very tempting again.

[gingeralecranberry]

PROLOGUE

𝟐-𝟎 ; 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 " 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 "

YOU KNOW, THAT'S DAMN RIGHT

☺︎ cw:

mentions of death, snakes, mentions of snakes, yaga 🙂‍↕️

Masamichi Yaga. Grade 1 sorcerer, fledgling teacher.

He hadn't been on a mission in a long time, too busy settling into his new job. Of course, he should've been grateful his superiors gave him a grace period at all. The shortage of sorcerers didn't affect the demand for their services. Whether he was in front of a chalkboard or a horrifying amalgam of nightmares, humans would feel their negative emotions. Those emotions would fester. Curses would keep being born and the godforsaken cycle would go on. He knew he'd be returning to the frontlines sooner rather than later.

Still, reclining against the beige leather seats of the Black Sedan, his mind kept recounting the details of the assignment like a mantra. Reports suggested the presence of a grade 1 curse, large, menacing, but most importantly, dangerous.

They'd only really caught a glimpse of the slippery beast from afar. Estimated to be approximately 30 feet in length and an ugly brown, it resembled a three-headed cobra with cracked, spotty scales and slimy skin. Worse yet, the underside of the cobra's hood was dotted with all-consuming, beady, black eyes that looked like mini blackholes boring through cursed flesh. The entity had been reported and registered a few days prior. At the time, there weren't any qualified sorcerers available to exorcize it.

At least, there hadn't been until now.

Brushing his thumb curiously across the unkempty stubble on his chin, he watched the scenery of Okinawa roll past the window. Unfurling like a pop-up storybook, the rural countryside this close to the shore was gorgeous. Clear, sun-bleached skies sparsely brushed with the dreamiest clouds. Greenery lay tranquil across the soil like a warm blanket, occasionally swaying in the wing. Solemnly, he noted even the happiest places on earth weren't completely free from curses.

"Yaga? Are you listening?"

"Sorry."

With his thoughts interrupted, he turned his attention back to the car he was in. It was extremely clean, polished leather gleaming and the freshly vacuumed floors soft underneath the sole of his shoe. Still, it reminded him too much of a showroom; empty, only temporarily idyllic.

The supervisor, a young brunette with sunburnt skin and a decently stocky build, only shrugged at him in response. "Eh, I get it. I'm used to sorcerers ignoring me most of the time anyways."

Yage shook his head, recollecting his focus on the back of the driver's leather jacket. "No, I'm sure it was important. I'm listening now."

Manato Inoue, his supervisor, seemed to brighten up, "Just some basic mission details, you didn't miss much." His left-hand haphazardly slapped his turn signal, "The curse was actually born a few miles away from where it is right now. Weird right?" The older man in the car grunted in response. "Well, even weirder, when it managed to get out into a more populated area, it didn't attack anyone. Eventually, after a day or so of observation, it became a low priority case."

"..."

Unbothered by his passenger's silence, he continued, "Then, out of the blue, it just kinda... I don't know, snapped?"

"...snapped?"

"Yeah, it's a tragedy really, from what I heard, the running theory is that the curse has some kind of trigger," once again the quiet 'click!' of the turn signal locking back into place toyed with the silence in the air. "It struck in a residential area, small family lived there. It's confirmed the father is dead, he was found on the front lawn and his wife was a few feet away on the porch. The youngest is presumed dead, too. So far, we only have hope for the oldest son."

Yaga nodded thoughtfully, "He was at school, right?"

Inoue hummed, eyes trained on the path in front of him. The asphalt road was starting to thin, smooth material replaced with the rough grain of gravel on his wheels. The further they drove, the narrower the path became. "He hasn't been seen at home today, we're hoping he went to a friend's house to study or something."

"Poor kid, Okinawa schools were going to close for summer soon."

"Correct," the car jumped as one of the front wheels rolled over a particularly large bump, "That's why we're hoping he left to study, he's probably got a lot of tests lined up and ready."

"Thank you, Inoue," Yaga mumbled, "The heads-up is much appreciated."

The older man caught a glimpse of the driver's cheeky grin and lax disposition in the rearview mirror, "Hey, don't thank me, you're the one that's about to risk your life."

"Still," Yaga insisted, "I'll be a lot more prepared this way. You could be saving my neck."

"Hey now," the supervisor countered, "don't get sentimental on me!" His lips parted to reveal a much more flustered smile. He cleared his throat, "The house is just around the corner, it's about time you put your game face on, get in the zone or what have you. If you die, I won't have anyone to talk to anymore."

The car turned off the gravel path, worn dirt tracks the only sign anybody had gone the same way beforehand. The men were faced with a seemingly endless menagerie of flora, thick and woven together like a barrier.

"That's... weird. I don't remember any details like that from the report."

Still, realizing the car had little to no chance of threading the needle and making it through the shrubbery, Inoue slowed to a stop a few meters away from the web of plants.

Upon closer inspection, the twist and tangle of the branches was anything but natural. They molded into one another, fusing trees and continuing to grow into one giant misshapen lump. The leaves didn't add much to the barricade, maybe decoration. Largely, the construct consisted of uncanny angles and ugly interlocking.

Already, Yaga could feel something bubbling up in the pit of his stomach. Something was horribly wrong.

Inoue, on the other hand, exited the car without hesitation, heading for the trunk of his trusty Sedan.

With a healthy dose of trepidation, Yaga began to follow suit. Prying himself from the comfort and safety of the vehicle, it felt like he'd gotten a brick thrown straight at his sternum. Almost immediately, he could feel his lungs squeeze, shriveling up as he struggled to intake air. His heart jumped into his throat, bobbing up and down his neck. The air was musky, ripe with cursed energy. Despite his own rather large reserves of cursed energy, the sheer density of the concentration sent his thoughts spiraling away with the abysmal fog.

"-aga, Yaga!"

He jumped, finally coming around after his supervisor's large, calloused hand landed squarely on his shoulder.

"Geez, you're really out of it today," Elbowing him in the side, Manato tacked on a sarcastic remark to try and lighten the mood, "You need to get out of your office more, you look like you're losing it."

With the muck clouding his senses beginning to retreat to the edges of his vision, he assessed the situation at hand. Quickly, he noted the horde of cursed corpses bundled up in his chauffer's arms. His eyes landed on one in particular. Cathy, a round mint green stuffed animal. The top of her head was peculiarly bald, framed with a blue fuzz. Yaga flicked his fingers, watching as his creations began to stir.

Inoue hummed, letting the various strange looking dolls crawl out of his arms, "Well, are you ready?"

Yaga glanced back at the opening, hoping to snatch a glance at the house hidden within. "As ready as I'll ever be."

Like a switch had flipped, the other man wiped the carefree smile off his face and retired his normally laidback attitude. Closing his eyes, two fingers raised adjacent to his heart, he began to lower the veil.

"Emerge from darkness blacker still, purify that which is impure."

LOVE FOR YOU BY LOVELI LORI & OSU! VIRGIN GANG

☺︎taglist:

@angelkazusstuff @ahoeindeedinneed @wutap @mysouleaten

masterlist ☓

[starberry-cupcake]

oooohhhh boyyyyyyyy Stuff Happened you folks, this might be obnoxious because there was a lot of exposition, let's hope I can keep it decent. As always, sending you all positive vibes in these trying times ♥

previously, in harrowcita del 9:

this happened

CHAPTER 50

30 minutes for emperor destruction, prepare the champagne

gideon is being taken by yandere twin to meet doctor reverend emperor john

she isn't very into that idea, but doesn't have much of a choice

doctor reverend emperor john is having a very important conversation with someone in the room, so gideon and yandere twin hide to listen in

and the conversation is with non other than not!dulcinea

not!dulcinea is being possessed

by commander wake

I ASKED FOR THIS IN THE PREVIOUS ONE

why did you need harrow, then, you dramatic asshat?

so, basically, commander wake's name is actually a couple quotes and lyrics to eminem's song from 8 mile

her name isn't amanda, it's just awake, etc.

I'd take amanda over eminem but ok

they said they are words that date back thousands of years, so we're in the future

I considered this, but not due to book reasons, just because one time I was talking to @lady-harrowhark about one time a barbie of mine was stolen when I was a kid and it somehow related to tlt, this was A Long Time Ago but I thought "what, are the books in the future?"

I have no idea if my hollywood hair barbie had anything to do with the books directly or if it was just some fandom thing @lady-harrowhark knows and I don't, but that planted the idea in my head

if it's a spoiler, don't tell me

but I didn't pick up any clues from the book until eminem

emperor's last name is gaius, which I knew from an untagged non context dashboard post

doctor reverend emperor john gaius wants to know what commander wake was doing in the ninth, because she landed there on purpose

and also is impressed that she's been a revenant for nearly 20 years and doesn't know how she got there

I think it's the sword

so, in come augustine and mercygirl

because now we're having a party

dr reverend emperor john says "Am I in trouble?" because he's the most punchable asshole in the known universe

and introduces commander wake with an evanescence quote rather than an eminem quote

yes, ok, I much prefer that, thank you

thank you, Fallen by Evanescence (2003) you changed my life

so, turns out that commander wake was in cahoots with these two lyctors

but things turned south and gideon the first was sent to kill her

she went to the ninth to break into the tomb

it always comes down to the tomb

ice cube barbie is very popular

so, I was right when I said that gideon wasn't conceived Traditionally

the eggs were my clue on that bit, the eggs on the notes

they were supposed to 1) use dr reverend emperor john's genes to 2) create a baby with his blood to 3) break the blood ward to 4) open the tomb

CONVOLUTED LYCTOR PLANS

but the eggs didn't work, so commander wake decided to birth gideon herself

when I said gideon was a demigod and used hercules memes and when I compared her to superman or whatever

I was more correct than I thought

commander wake called gideon "bomb"

this song could go into the gideon playlist @lady-harrowhark and I were talking about

because we didn't have enough lyctors at this party, in comes gideon the first

from battling the beast, which is what everyone was supposed to be doing, btw, just putting that out there

gideon the first will receive a lot of very clever, funny and amazing nicknames by gideon that I can't even remotely compete with

I vow to you and your prowess for nicknames, queen

gideon the first comes in, removes gideon's glasses from harrow's body, and slides them on his face

commander wake me up before you go go looks at him with heart eyes

and he shoots her

gideon, things were so much easier when you didn't have a family, girl

this is too stressful

everyone is surprised that gideon the first fought the beast, the beast ran and gideon the first is alive

I am NOT SURPRISED because HE WAS FIGHTING ALONGSIDE MATI NONIUS

and ortus, and protozoa, and martita

BUT, MOST IMPORTANTLY, MATI NONIUS

well done team harrow!!!

so, basically, gideon the first didn't say anything about the whole commander wake situation because he thought gideon was his

which accounts for my doubts the other recap on how I thought gideon wasn't Conceived Traditionally but there were doubts from gideon the first's side

gideon prime, gideon zero, gideon senior (all gideon jokes, not mine) says he was with her for about two years

so augustine starts explaining how they got dr reverend emperor john's genetic material through god apate major

WHY AM I NOT SURPRISED

IT'S ALWAYS THE ORGIES, ISN'T IT?

man, I'd rather not know the details, thank you

gideon the first also doesn't want to know the details

the emperor's bolthole wasn't as inexorable as it was advertised to be, turns out

it's basically a revolving door

ANYWAY

the emperor goes "so you killed her and the baby, right?"

IN COMES GIDEON, INTRODUCING HERSELF

"I'm not fucking dead"

and the emperor goes "hi, not fucking dead, I'm dad"

CHAPTER 51

gideon starts remembering childhood things like suffering and fighting with harrow and telling harrow that maybe she is the daughter of someone important and they don't know it

"You remember how the fuck-off great aunts always used to say, suffer and learn? If they were right, Nonagesimus, how much more can we take until you and me achieve omniscience?"

man, this is rough

so, the thing about the eyes

gideon apparently has AL's eyes

whose name isn't only Annabel Lee

it's also Alecto

the alecto everyone keeps mentioning in the fandom

so, this explains why seeing gideon's eyes was like seeing a ghost to these lyctors

also why ice cube barbie had gideon's eyes

THERE ARE A LOT OF THREADS GOING ON IN THIS BOARD

GIDEON IS CONNECTED TO A LOT OF PEOPLE

NONE OF THEM GOOD

the lyctors bring back what teacher said in canaan au, about them asking dr reverend emperor john to kill AL aka Annabel Lee aka Alecto aka ice cube barbie

apparently all of them (except for gideon the first) hated her and were low key scared of her and high key scared of what might happen with her around

they think the beasts are coming partly because of her

and whatever dr reverend emperor john did to resurrect her

the emperor says he didn't kill her, he "switched her off"

not successfully, because she's been sort of roaming around

mercygirl and augustine say that everything about this is very sus because what if he didn't kill AL??? and what is going on with the origin of his power???

dr reverend emperor john goes "you both do tend to go overboard on the foreplay"

mercygirl and augustine figured out that harrow's true cavalier had AL's eyes

but it was impossible for a baby to be born with AL's genes

however, it was very probable that a baby had been born in the ninth with the emperor's genes

because they had been planning on that to happen

albeit in a different way, without the human intervention

so, if gideon has AL's eyes but the emperor's genes

it means AL's eyes aren't hers and the emperor's aren't his

the emperor's weird eyes are AL's and gideon's eyes are the emperor's

because.......

he achieved lyctorhood without having to slurp his cavalier aka AL

I'm very interested in this potential situation if we get gideon alive again

but everyone else is pissed off because they had to slurp their cavaliers unnecessarily

yandere twin also decides to join the chat after this

and, apparently, anastasia had figured it out too

the ninth necro who everyone said was the one who couldn't become a lyctor

the one with a room unused

until harrow

the emperor's version of events is that things went off the rails in the process and he had to kill them both

augustine tells dr reverend emperor john to just stop already with his plan of destroying everything

and the emperor says that the man before his resurrection would have hated him to say that

mercygirl then goes "I'll forgive you if you tell me you didn't mean to kill my cav"

and the emperor goes "yes, I'll do whatever"

so he hugs mercygirl

and mercygirl

FUCKING DECIMATES HIM

SHE WRECKS HIM

SHE MELTS HIM INTO NOTHINGNESS

gideon says she's an orphan again while I'm giving everyone a party hat and a piece of celebratory cake

I'M SORRY THIS WAS LONG but we're reaching the end of this book!!! See you next time!!!

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Good Luck Charm | CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Summary: If this was just supposed to be Casual, why is he acting like this? Why is he holding her close as if he never plans to let go? [Inspired by Casual by Chappell Roan]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Part 2 of my Is It Casual Now? series: Masterlist: Part 1

It had started out as a casual thing. A friends-with-benefits arrangement, nothing more. At least, that’s what she told herself at first.

But Charles made it difficult to keep things casual. There was an undeniable charm to him, a sweetness she hadn't anticipated. He didn’t just text her at night or call her when he was back in Monaco. Instead, he called regularly, sometimes even when he was across the world for a race. He’d ask about her day, make her laugh with stories about his travels, and always ended with some version of, “I can’t wait to come home and see you.”

And then, there were the little things he did that went beyond what she’d expected. He’d bring her favorite coffee when they met up, remember small details she’d mentioned in passing, and leave her cute voice messages when he found something that reminded him of her. Charles was effortlessly thoughtful, as if caring for her was second nature.

One evening, after a tough qualifying session, he called her, his voice a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. “You would not believe how bad the setup felt today,” he complained. “It’s like the car just… refused to cooperate.”

She listened as he vented, offering encouragement and making him laugh with a few lighthearted comments. By the end of the call, he sounded calmer, even managing a smile in his voice. “You know, you’re good at this. You make me feel better even from thousands of miles away.”

“Well, someone has to keep you sane,” she teased.

“Oh, you’re doing much more than that,” he replied warmly. “Really, I wish you could be here. You’d probably make the whole race go smoother, just by being around.”

“Is that so?” she teased, her heart swelling at the thought. “And how exactly would I do that?”

“Your mere presence would calm my nerves,” he insisted, the playful lilt in his voice making her laugh. “You know how competitive it gets. If I could just look up and see you, I’d feel so much better.”

“Maybe I’ll have to make an appearance then,” she said lightly, but in her heart, she felt a pang of longing at the thought of being close to him, sharing those moments in person.

As the weeks passed, the calls became a comforting routine. He’d check in after qualifying sessions, asking her opinion on his performance, or he’d call after a disappointing race, needing to vent. It was during those moments that she began to see how much he truly valued her support.

“Do you have any idea how frustrating it is to come in tenth?” he grumbled one afternoon, his voice low and strained as he paced in his hotel room.

“Pretty frustrating, I’d imagine,” she replied sympathetically. “But it’s just one race, right? You’ve got more coming up.”

“Yeah, but it’s Monaco next! I can’t mess that up. It’s my home! The pressure is insane.” He took a deep breath, and she could almost picture him running a hand through his hair in exasperation. “I need to win this one.”

“Then you need to focus and stop overthinking it. You’re talented, Charles. Trust your instincts. You’ve got this,” she reassured him, her voice firm.

“You always know what to say. I can’t wait to come home and see you again.” He sounded lighter, a smile evident in his tone. “Maybe you should come see me race sometime.”

She laughed it off, but Charles was relentless. Every few days, he’d bring up the idea of her coming to watch him race. “Come on,” he’d say, “Just one weekend.”

But she kept brushing it off, always with a half-serious excuse. “Charles, I have a job, remember? I can’t just fly out to some random country you know”

One evening, he finally pulled out his best argument. “Monaco,” he said with a grin she could practically hear over the phone, “that's literally our backyard. No excuses this time.”

She groaned, pretending to resist. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“But charmingly so,” he countered, voice teasing but hopeful.

Eventually, she caved. “Fine. I’ll come. Just because you’ll never let me hear the end of it if I don’t.”

His laugh was practically a shout of victory. “You’re going to love it, I promise. And I’ll make sure you have the best seat in the house.”

When she arrived at the paddock on race day, Charles was waiting for her at the VIP entrance, practically bouncing on his feet. The moment he spotted her, he broke into a grin and quickly made his way over.

“You came!” He wrapped her in a hug, holding her close like he hadn’t seen her in years.

“I told you I’d be here,” she laughed, squeezing him back. “Though you owe me big time for putting up with all this noise and chaos.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I intend to make it up to you,” he replied with a smirk, keeping his arm around her as he led her inside. “Let me show you around.”

Charles walked her through the paddock, his hand resting possessively on her lower back as he guided her past the hustle and bustle of team members, mechanics, and engineers. He introduced her to some of the crew, who greeted her with warm smiles, and she couldn’t help but feel the pride radiating from Charles as he spoke about the work they put into the car.

“See that guy?” he said, pointing to a tall man with a headset who was deeply focused on the monitor. “That’s my race engineer. He’s the one who helps guide me during the race.”

She nodded, genuinely interested as Charles continued to explain the intricacies of the race preparations. “And this,” he said, leading her to the Ferrari garage, “is where all the magic happens.”

As they entered at the Ferrari garage, Charles spotted his brother Arthur nearby. “Ah, you have to meet Arthur,” he said, giving her a reassuring smile. “You’ll love him.”

Arthur approached, giving her a friendly grin as he shook her hand. “So, you’re the ‘lucky charm’ Charles keeps talking about,” he said, raising an eyebrow at his brother.

“Don’t start,” Charles muttered, clearly embarrassed, though he didn’t let go of her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Arthur,” she replied, feeling her cheeks heat up as she shot Charles a playful look. “I didn’t realize I had such a reputation around here.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Arthur chuckled, giving his brother a knowing look. Charles just rolled his eyes and nudged him away, muttering something about “family being an embarrassment.”

Before long, Charles was called back for his final preparations, and he turned to her, his expression softening. “You’ll be watching, right?”

“Front row seat,” she promised, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

The race itself was a whirlwind of emotions. As the lights went out and the cars roared to life, she felt her heart racing in tandem with the engines. Each lap was a rollercoaster of tension and excitement, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from Charles. He navigated the track with grace and determination, every move calculated, every turn precise.

With each passing lap, the anticipation built, and when he crossed the finish line in first place, she couldn’t help but scream with joy. The entire atmosphere erupted in cheers, but for her, it was all about Charles. He’d done it. He’d won!

As he climbed out of the car, sweat glistening on his forehead, he scanned the crowd until his eyes locked onto hers. A wide smile broke across his face, and he hurried over, not caring about the cameras or the noise.

“Did you see that? I did it!” he shouted, wrapping her in a tight hug that lifted her off the ground. She could hardly believe it as he peppered her face with kisses, excitement spilling over. “You’re my good luck charm!”

“I think you had it in you all along!” she laughed, overwhelmed by the joy radiating from him.

“Not without you here,” he insisted, his eyes sparkling with delight. “I couldn’t have done it without you. You make everything better.”

She laughed, still wrapped in his arms, as he planted quick, enthusiastic kisses all over her face. “Charles, everyone’s watching!”

“Let them watch,” he said, not even caring, still grinning as he peppered her face with kisses.

The celebration was in full swing when they stepped into the club, Charles was surrounded by friends, team members, and fans who were all there to revel in his long-awaited Monaco victory. The energy was infectious, and she couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride watching him receive endless pats on the back, his grin wide and eyes gleaming under the flashing lights. He never let her stray far from his side, keeping a steady arm around her waist as they moved through the crowd.

"Finally won my home race," he said, leaning close so she could hear him over the music, his voice filled with disbelief and joy. "It still doesn’t feel real."

She nudged him lightly, a teasing smile on her lips. "You sure it happened? You’re not dreaming right now?"

"Guess I’ll find out if I wake up," he said, laughing as he twirled her in place, pulling her back against his chest. "But you’re here, so I’d say this has to be real."

They both laughed, the shared warmth and excitement washing over them like a wave. He kept her close as they moved through the club, accepting congratulations and raising toasts with anyone who approached. But every few minutes, his hand would slide back to hers, squeezing her fingers or pulling her back to his side. His eyes would find hers, that familiar spark of mischief dancing in his gaze.

Eventually, they found themselves tucked into a quieter corner of the club, away from the crowd. Charles leaned against the wall, tugging her closer until her hands rested on his chest, his grin turning cheeky as he looked down at her.

“So, you’re not disappearing on me tonight, are you?” he teased, his fingers tracing a lazy line up her arm. “I kind of like having you around.”

“Disappearing?” she laughed. “Please, Leclerc, it’s like I’m glued to you tonight. You’ve barely let go of my hand.”

He smirked, his hands slipping down to her waist as he pulled her even closer. "Can you blame me? Best night of my life, and I want you right here."

The sincerity in his voice softened her, but he quickly masked it with a grin, tugging her back onto the dance floor. They spent hours laughing, dancing, and talking between sips of champagne, the atmosphere around them filled with lighthearted banter. Charles was in his element, his joy contagious as he celebrated with everyone around him, but his attention kept circling back to her—small glances, soft touches, lingering smiles.

At one point, he leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, "Come with me."

Before she could respond, he was guiding her toward a secluded corridor at the back of the club, pressing her gently against the wall. His hands settled on her waist as he looked down at her, his gaze intense and filled with an energy that set her pulse racing. He leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was equal parts heated and sweet, his fingers tracing her sides as he held her close.

When he finally pulled back, he pressed his forehead against hers, his voice a low murmur. "Thank you for being here tonight. Wouldn’t have wanted to celebrate with anyone else."

The words made her chest tighten, and before she could respond, he was kissing her again, a soft laugh escaping his lips as they stayed wrapped up in each other, oblivious to the world outside their small bubble.

Later, as the night wound down, they left the club together, Charles’ hand never leaving hers. Back at his apartment, he pulled her inside, his smile turning playful again. "One more toast, maybe?"

“Isn’t that what you said after the last toast?” she teased, following him into the kitchen as he poured them each a final glass of champagne.

“What can I say? It’s a big night,” he said, winking. They clinked glasses, his eyes never leaving hers as they sipped, and when she set her glass down, he was already pulling her close, his lips brushing along her jawline before settling on her lips.

They drifted into his bedroom, Charles’ touches growing more insistent as he held her close, a mix of laughter and whispered words filling the space between them. He was relentless, the intensity of the night fueling each kiss, each lingering touch as they stayed wrapped up in each other.

Finally, as the early hours of morning crept in, they lay tangled together in his bed, the celebrations fading into a comfortable quiet. Charles lay beside her, his face nestled against her neck as his breathing slowed, a soft smile on his face.

“Perfect night,” he mumbled, his voice heavy with exhaustion.

She smiled, her fingers running through his hair as she whispered, “Yeah, it was.”

In the quiet that followed, she felt his breathing even out, his arm around her tightening slightly as he drifted off to sleep, holding her close as if he never planned to let go.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Taglist: @dullypully @wintterily @sageskiesf1 @firefirevampire @eloriis

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[bullet-prooflove]

Pause: Mitch Keller x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dolphs-darling @Watermeezer @queenslandlover-93 @redpool

Companion piece to:

Her Name Was Lola - You meet Mitch's wife.

Lola becomes the third wheel in your relationship. There’s been a war brewing between the two of you since she turned up in Tulsa, a silent one that’s waged every night she steps into the casino and sits herself at the bar.

“Why haven’t you banned her?” You ask, furiously wiping down the counter and Mitch sighs as he adjusts his cap.

“Because Sunny, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar.” Mitch explained and you’d clenched your jaw so you didn’t bite back with something truly scathing.

You understand the sentiment behind it, Mitch wants that divorce and he wants it as soon as possible but having Lola here, it’s detrimental to your mental health. Part of you wants to claw her damn eyes out and the other part wants to sob, because the evidence of the promise that Mitch broke it’s staring you right in the face, wearing his class ring.

The only solace is those nights when you’re on stage. You sit up there strumming a tune,  singing your heart out and for a moment Mitch’s entire attention it’s focused on you. You can’t express how good that feels, to be the centre of his world again, the only woman he has eyes for. It’s gone the instant you step off because he’s back to Lola, pleading his case.

“I feel like we’re drifting apart a little.” You say to him later that night when everyone else is gone and the two of you are putting away the glasses. “I feel like you don’t see me anymore.”

“That’s not true, Sunny girl.” He sighs as he places his hand on the bar. “I just want this so badly.”

“Well maybe don’t.” You say, your fingertips hooking on the loops of his jeans and drawing him taut against you. “Maybe just enjoy the time we have together, without her and wait the year it takes.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to marry me?” He asks as he looks into your eyes and you can see the hurt reflected in them as your palms come to rest on his chest.

“I’m just saying put it on pause for now.” You tell him.

“Pause.” He repeats, his hands clasping yours to his heart. “We’ve been on pause before and it damn near ruined us. I want to move forward, I want to marry you-”

“I want that too but this situation, it’s not good for us.” You whisper as his forehead comes to rest upon yours. “Mitch, I can’t…”

Your voice breaks and he closes his eyes, his nose bumping lightly against yours.

“Sunny.” He says firmly. “We are almost at the finish line.”

“No Mitch, you’re almost at the finished line.” You say pushing him away. “I fell behind ten miles ago but you’ve just been too focused on the goal to notice.”

“Sunny…” He begins but you’re already drawing away from him.

“I have to go.” You say, picking up your guitar case. “I can’t be here right now.”

You leave then and Mitch, he lets you because he knows better than to follow you when you get that resigned tone in your voice. When he gets home that night the lights are off and there’s no trace of you, he realises there’s clothes missing, the overnight bag you usually take on tour.

It’s happening again, he realises. You’re leaving him because Mitch, he just doesn’t fucking listen. He hasn’t been hearing what you’ve been trying to say to him for weeks, you can’t cope with Lola being in his life, you can’t stand to see another woman with his ring on her finger.

You pick up when he calls, he hears the sound of traffic in the background and he knows you’ve already left Tulsa.

“Where you headed?” He asks despondently as he leans back against the door frame of the bedroom, his gaze fixed on the bed he's sleeping alone in tonight.

“Dallas.” You say softly. “There’s a couple of places down there that will give me a gig. Probably Houston after that, Memphis, Nashville.”

It feels like you’ve plunged a knife into his chest. With each stop you get further away from him and Mitch isn’t sure that you’ll ever come back.

“Will you come home Sunny?” He pleads, his voice breaking as he says the words “Please?”

“No Mitch.” You say, and he hears the resolution in your voice. “No, I can’t.”

Love Mitch? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[alecflynn]

Well. That was the first time Alec had ever been called brilliant. He beamed under the compliment, the fact that it came from his superior making it feel like genuine praise. Alec had been a hustler his entire life, but he'd never been called good at a job. Probably because he tended to treat them like they were optional.

But it was hearing how flippantly he threw around dollar amounts had Alec's eyes turning into dollar signs. A hundred dollars for a few hours of performing? Fuckin' count him in! But... if he could take a mile from an inch, then he would. "That's each, right? That's about standard, yeah."

Alec's hands slipped casually into his pockets, grin widening at the fervent energy radiating from his boss. The fact that he just had a little notebook in his pocket made Alec bite back a laugh. He understood a need to write something down the moment it entered his head— he was a songwriter— but he'd never been organized enough to have a whole ass notebook at his disposal. But instead of ragging on the man, Alec just reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, opening up Spotify where he uploaded the most polished Anthem of Vandals songs. "We're rock, mostly. A little bluesy sometimes." He pulled up a track list, feeling uncharacteristically nervous to share. "You can listen to some if you want."

at alec’s suggestion, calahan’s golden eyes illuminated. yes, that was absolutely what they needed — something to inject some life into the place, something to wipe away the layer of dust that had settled upon every furnishing and bar stool. there was only so much that some disinfectant and an old rag could do. “you know what, i think you’re onto something there.” the owner could barely contain his excitement. he stood, hands on the bar, leaning over as though the bartender had approached him with some unmissable business proposition. “i bet you’d be brilliant!” had calahan heard alec’s band? no. did he know much about music at all, beyond the hymns he had once heard in church and the dulcet tones of third eye blind. anything would be better than the distant hum of the jukebox that, every few songs, needed a good firm thump on the roof to dislodge the needle and stop it from skipping. “whatever you want, kid. how much do you pay for something like that? a hundred?” growing up wealthy had skewed calahan’s perception of money, and the conversation rate from euro to dollar had only exacerbated the issue. now, alec had something to do. cal pulled a small notebook from the top pocket of his jacket, felt the bar for a dry and unsticky surface, and opened it to begin scrawling their master plan. he was feverish, as though possessed — there were some moments where he paused and stared at his reflection and genuinely wondered whether something had wormed its way within him. “what kind of music do you play?” 

[azalawa-scroggs]

About Eddie Fender and why he was a dick to Miles

I first started this post in response to something, but it got so long I decided against inflicting it on OP. This is very long and very meandering and the form is kinda weird, as a warning. It's also kinda spoilery for Ace Attorney Investigations 2.

When we first start playing AAI2 and are introduced to "Ace Attorney Eddie Fender," it's true he doesn't come across as very likeable. The first thing he says to Miles is basically "Oh, look! Here comes Manfred von Karma," and the game happens three years after the truth about DL-6 came out. That's incredibly low, very petty, cruel even. He does start off as a dick to Miles, unfair on him until he gradually realises he isn't as bad as he thought, and as he starts warming up to Miles we start warming up to him.

But also... I kind of get it.

Like... Imagine you're 19 years old. Your boss just died in a sudden and shocking murder. You inherit the law firm even though you haven't even passed the bar yet. You're grieving as you keep working hard to become an attorney, now without the guidance you used to have. Maybe you even blame yourself a little - after all, you worked on that case too, you were likely there for the trial, you left both Edgeworths to take that elevator by themselves. Had things played out differently you would have been there, too.

Did you think of your boss's son, in the middle of this whirlwind? Probably a little, but you're a 19 year-old law student. You're nowhere near a suitable place in your life to even think about fostering a kid. Besides, Gregory Edgeworth was your boss. Someone you greatly admired and whose death you will never stop mourning, but still just your boss.

(It's unclear how well Eddie knew Miles. Enough for Miles to recognise him instantly, but certainly not as close as Miles and Phoenix were.)

You take it on yourself to continue the work he left behind, to help the clients Gregory can no longer help. For ten years you try your best to uphold the reputation and the values of his firm and name, and every day you witness a little more how corrupt the system really is.

Then, one day, you start hearing about this young new prosecuting upstart. Passed the bar at 20 and already has the legal world in his pocket. Rumours of forged evidence, backstreet deals, manipulated witnesses. Not only is that just like the whole lot of them, the tactics you became so familiar with over the years - no, it sounds painfully, specifically familiar to that one long, drawn-out case, the last one you worked with Gregory. It turns out the young prodigy is the student and protégé of Mr. Perfection himself, the man who never lost a case in thirty-five years, even though he should have lost against you ten years ago if the world was even a little fair. You would hate the boy for that alone, but on top of that he's also the son of the mentor you lost, the son of the man you both used to admire so very much.

And that hurts. That none of Gregory's legacy lived on in his son. That this sweet, kind boy, who Gregory always used to worry about not making any friends, became a parody of all they used to despise.

Perhaps you even get to see him. You catch a glance of him in the courthouse corridor as he passes you by without so much as a nod to acknowledge you, or you stumble upon a picture in the same paper that struck Phoenix Wright so deeply. You see that damn suit. That damn smirk. That damn waggly finger. His features may have something of Gregory but everything in him screams von Karma. He's spent a decade trying to shape himself into him, and it shows.

Prosecutors are a privileged bunch, and the Edgeworth kid grew up into a downright brat. Entitled. Rude. Arrogant. Obsessed with his fucking perfect record. You hear he goes around cutting the salaries of detectives that make a tenth of what he does and insulting the opposing counsel in court. He became the worst of them all, taught by the worst of them all, he is everything Gregory fought against and everything you hate.

Why would you want to associate with that? Why would you ever think he is not perfectly fine where he is, with his cushy office and his cushy sports car and his doubtlessly cushy pay?

A couple years later you hear he's been arrested for murder. Maybe you follow the trial, maybe you only see the headlines after everything, after DL-6 is finally solved. Honestly, that's when you start having a reason to reach out. When, had you been less embittered and jaded by the thanklessness of your job, you might have wondered what it was like for him to grow up in the shadow of his father's murderer. You might have been stricken with compassion and horror at the thought of fifteen years spent in crushing guilt, believing he killed the father he used to love so much. You might have empathised, despite your contempt for von Karma, with how his ward might feel to be so cruelly betrayed, thrice over, by the man who raised him since he was nine, who taught him everything before throwing him away like a piece of used junk.

But you still think of how he was like a son to von Karma, of how he got to spend fifteen years in wealth, following a shiny, easy, corrupt new path while you grieved and desperately tried to keep the pieces of your shared dream together. You think of how uneasy Gregory seemed with the idea of von Karma as a teacher, you think of how eager Miles seemed to follow in his footsteps and how much Gregory would have hated it. You think of the many defendants this boy callously condemned with barely a thought, just like his mentor. Of how he may not have his father's blood on his hands, but with the way he acts you'd think he had his murderer's in his veins. And you really, really don't want to deal with any of that.

You think, somewhat unfairly, that maybe Miles ought to have seen it coming. It's not like it's much of a secret that Manfred von Karma is a piece of shit, and good riddance to him.

Three years later, you actually have to interact with him again. It's been 18 years since you last saw him in his father's shadow, looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky, back when everything was so simple for the three of you. It's been 3 years since the truth about his oh-so-esteemed mentor was uncovered. He still wears the cravat. His brow is still furrowed, his eyes are still piercing.

But slowly, begrudgingly, you talk to him. You start realising he actually has some honour to him. That he's not really the Demon Prosecutor the papers made him out to be, that maybe you misjudged him a little bit, in you grief-stricken, angry bitterness. That maybe he can be trusted, after all, with his father's legacy.

Why would you think he ever needed saving?

[0vergrowngraveyard]

tails gets uncomfortable laying on his back bc of the whole attempted robotization thing in Lost World

[bittersweetresilience]

say hi to me i don't know, i just remembered being so much brighter, i guess

cigarette ash like wildfire burning holes in the nighttime open scars feel like barbed wire white lies flying high like a ceasefire dropping flags on the shoreline this is as far as i can feel right 'cause what you don't know can haunt you

and all we ever wanted was sunlight and honesty highlights to want to repeat let's get away from here and live like the movies do i won't mind when it's over at least i didn't think for a while

don't drag it out living like that doesn't mean a thing

so let's, make a great escape and i'll be waiting outside for the getaway it doesn't matter who we are we'll keep running through the dark and all we'll ever need is another day we can slow down 'cause tomorrow is a mile away and live like shooting stars 'cause happy endings hardest to fake

and i wanna let you know i wanna let you go but i just can't bring myself to speak but this is how it goes the end credits, they roll this bridge was built over kerosene but we can watch it and all i ever wanted was sunlight and honesty highlights to want to repeat let's get away from here and live like the movies do i won't mind when it's over at least i didn't think

so let's run, make a great escape and i'll be waiting outside for the getaway it doesn't matter who we are we'll keep running through the dark and all we'll ever need is another day we can slow down 'cause tomorrow is a mile away and live like shooting stars you can wish away forever but you'll never find a thing like today

[divine-misfortune]

You get it

Anyways insanity under the cut for everyone's safety

Aether being weird and kinda manipulative but it's sexy so dw

@0-miles-away @miasmaghoul grabbing and shaking both of you for encouraging this

I don't know how he talked Rain into it, but once a day he has that water ghoul seated in his office, fingers digging into his thighs as he tries to breathe through it like Aether told him to. Rainy always listens so well, and why wouldn't he? Aether's a medical professional, of course what he says is best.

The first few times Rain is cringing and wincing with every pulse of the machine - even insisted once or twice he doesn't wanna do it again but Aether insists gently but firmly. Maybe by the second week he comes to tolerate it more (don't think Aether misses the depth of his flush, how it creeps right down his chest).

It's become routine; a little after noon Rain sits in the soft chair in the corner and shrugs his shirt off, he lets Aether bring the cups to his chest and turn the somewhat noisy machine on, and he sits there quiet as he can aside from the occasional little whimper he tries to swallow down so that Aether can focus on his work. About a half hour, sometimes more if Aether thinks he can tolerate it. By the end Rain's nipples are an angry albeit rosy shade of red, he grits his teeth as he puts his shirt back on, and Aether always has to fight a little smirk when the distinct sea salt scent hits him. Rain couldn't hide the truth from him if he tried.

But as always at the end the bottle is empty. Aether looks so disappointed. Subtly makes Rain feel a little guilty for not producing yet, sighs out loud and wonders if maybe Cirrus would be a better subject for this. Rain gets those big, sad, worried eyes of his. All sweet like a kicked puppy, it nearly makes Aether feel bad but the way Rain jumps to try to appease him makes something dark curl pleasantly in his gut. Satisfaction overtakes it.

Rain blindly agrees to supplements, vitamins, whatever Aether thinks is best.

He starts to smell far sweeter, fresh honey and daisies. His tits start to fill out as time goes on, his shirts fit him too tight and his uniform has a gap between the buttons fighting not to burst over his chest, but not a drop of milk despite how they start to hurt. Sore to the touch, heavy and aching, his nipples consistently pebbled and poking through his shirts - Rain almost starts wearing a bra just to save him the shame of part of this.

One day Rain comes in as usual but Aether guides him to the exam room instead of his usual chair. Gets him stripped and laid out, feet in stirrups, cups latched to his chest. He looks so oddly vulnerable Aether throbs behind his zipper as he continues to set things up as normal - and very suddenly things stop feeling so normal.

Aether pets up his calf like he's almost comforting him and all at once Rain feels looser, his knees fall apart because he can't think to hold them together for modesty anymore. Prep isn't necessary, not with how fucking wet Rain appears to get while hooked up to the pump. He shushes Rain's dumb little sounds when he slides home, buries himself to the root in his body, and Rain's eyes almost cross.

He tells Rain how he's figured it out, everything makes sense now. His body wouldn't produce yet because it was missing something so important - and Aether promises to give it to him. He'll fuck a litter into him, and once it takes, Rain can make himself useful and his poor swollen tits can finally let down for him.

And when his knot catches, he pulls the cups from his chest and gives both a good squeeze that punches the wind out of Rain's lungs. Tells him that they feel fuller already, ready to burst even.

If he just...

Aether latches onto his tit and grinds his knot that much deeper, suckling at one nipple and circling the other with his thumb, it doesn't take long to feel that first sweet droplet hit his tongue. Rain cries out in beautiful agony and pure relief all at once, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes, body shaking like a leaf in a windstorm.

It's the most sinful thing Aether's tasted in his life, can't help the little groan he lets out as he drinks him down like a man starved.

Maybe their pack princess was made to be knocked up like this.

Maybe Aether should keep him this way.

Smthn smthn Aether hooking Rain up to a breast pump to induce lactation smtn smthn medfet humiliation

[nicoscheer]

Via Jack Savoretti’s TikTok

[number-one-shadisper-shipper]

OKAY SOMEONE NEEDS TO MAKE AN ANIMATIC FOR CLASSIC TAILS AND SONIC WITH "LOST BOY" BY RUTH B.

I'm dying over this song someone please do this I will owe you my sanity

[lady-tortilla-chip]

I like the dynamic between Miles and Miguel because Miguel is all “I can’t stand how scared your existence makes me, I can barely handle the weight of one dead universe let alone two, this doesn’t make me any happier than it makes you but it’s the better outcome, you’re just a stupid kid and your universe hasn’t fallen apart yet WHY push your luck?” And Miles is all “it doesn’t have to be that way, I’m not just a stupid kid, this isn’t all or nothing, something can always be done, just because spider man doesn’t always save everyone doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, nothing is impossible, and I’ll prove it whether you like it or not”

[rexlroze]

Loser! Hobie who basically starts freaking the fuck out whenever you make a move on him because he has no idea what to do or say, he tries grabbing your waist but instead he grabs your arms, pulls you in and hugs you?? He's basically like Miles taking Uncle Aaron's advice. Loser! Hobie who when confessing just starts rambling to no end. Loser! Hobie who loves writing love notes because he doesn't know how to actually speak to you without becoming a mess. Loser! Hobie who's just a high school with a massive crush. Loser! Hobie whose love grows for you more and more every time you listen to him rant about random shit at 3AM.

If I get some more, I'll toss them right back to you

(He's so grateful it's not that visible but he'll try to hide it anyways making it more obvious)

I saw a post on the Hobie tag at one point saying that he would be like a lady’s man or a (for a lack of a better word) “manwhore”, and I low key want to read like a Drabble/fic of Hobie finding out about these rumors like…

“…HUH?!”

Like he’s just flabbergasted by those rumors, like he legit could not comprehend the idea of this version of him circling around people’s minds, and he had to hear it from one of the younger spiders 💀

Courtesy of this TikTok for this idea: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTFoQPnk1/

- 😅

Bro sounds so upset 😭😭😭

He'd be pacing on the floor trying to comprehend while someone tries to explain that he's so hot that ppl think that he has been around 😂 (poor hobie they don't know he's maidenless)