#(among wanting to show off his superiority)

[specss00]

ALTERHUMAN SLANG DICTIONARY

MAMMALIAN

Got on my back paws - got on my hands and knees. Like how animals can stand up as a trick.

ex: yeah, i really wanted that necklace, i had to get on my back legs so she would get it for me.

Showing fang - standing up for yourself/being assertive. 

ex:  he’s really tough, and he’ll show fang at just about anything.

White eye - going crazy/really scared. Like how animals show the whites of their eyes when very agitated.

ex: haha, i saw how scared you were during that movie, you went all white eye at the end!

Howling at the sun[wolf/werewolf] doing something completely ridiculously/incorrect

Ex: dude did you see how that movie ended? Mc was really howling at the sun

Could hear someone purring[cat, any other purring animal]  noticeably becoming relaxed around someone/something

Ex: I saw you with your new plush yesterday, I could really hear you purring

Treetop chaser - (herbivorous) someone who chases unattainable things.

ex: they’re way out of your league, don’t be a treetop chaser

Bellycrawler - someone overly submissive.

ex - you have to stand up for yourself, don’t be a bellycrawler and let them take advantage of you.

Downy - young, referring to the soft fur of young animals. 

ex - she shouldn’t be out til midnight, she’s still downy!

Sit on your wag - means the same thing as swallow your smile.

ex - i got accepted into college, but my sister wasn’t, so i had to sit on my wag.

Go for the ruff - do something harmless/gently.

ex - the shirt was really ugly, but i went for the ruff so i didn’t hurt his feelings.

Flea - an insult meaning antikin, or a bigot in general.

ex - oh, you have him in your class? Be careful, he’s a total flea.

AQUATIC

Riptide Rider - (aquatic) someone who lives dangerously.

ex: stay away from her, she’s a riptide rider, you’re bound to get hurt.

Current crazy - someone who just follows other people, same as flock brain

ex: my brother joined the football team, and now he’s all current crazy.

Bottomfeeder - an insult for a low-class being.

ex - the boys at my school are such bottomfeeders, they make all the girls uncomfortable.

Floater - an insult for a superior or snobby person.

ex - ugh, they’re such a floater. They brag about their promotions ALL THE TIME.

Seen the whale fall - someone who is very experienced, now become a word for old among younger aquatics.

ex - my gramps has really seen the whale fall, he’s almost 95!

Play remora - like devil’s advocate, because remoras stick close to sharks.

ex - i don’t wanna play remora about this, but i think he was lying.

AVIAN

Flock brain - (avian) someone who can’t think for themselves. 

ex: ugh, she’s only hanging out with them now, she’s being a total flock brain.

A hummer with an eagle - (avian) someone who is clearly out of their depth.

ex: are you sure you can handle advanced classes? No offense, but you’ll be a hummer with the eagles.

Mantling over [smth] - [avian] being possessive, traditionally over food items 

Ex : Sarah is really mantling over that burger menu, I tried to take a fry and she almost bit my head off...

All preened up - [avian] well dressed, well groomed, the state of satisfaction and confidence that comes with A Good Look

Ex : Wow, Eric was all preened up this evening. I don't think I've ever saw him take this many selfies. 

And just for fun...

Going for the rattler - [roadrunner] choosing the hard or dangerous option, with expectation of either great fun or a great reward

Ex : "Huh, this park offers either a canyoning session over rapids or a day in the sun near the lake" "well I'm definitely going for the rattler" 

flare(s) my wings - (avian) makes me tense/nervous/angry 

"i don't like him, he always makes me flare my wings" 

makes my wings flutter - (avian) makes me happy/excited

"pasta always makes my wings flutter"

im pretty sure "ruffles my feathers" is a preexisting one

messy wings (with no time to preen) - (avian) having a bad day/stressed (and haven't had time to cool down)

"yeah today my wings are so messy and i haven't had time to preen"

Having a blood feather - [avian] being particularly irritable 

ex : Don't bother with this guy, he's been having a severe case of blood feathers. He'll jump at you for anything.

Riding the updraft - [flying creature] taking advantage of good opportunities, being lucky in life, having an easy time.

ex : I've been really riding the updraft recently ! Got both a promotion and a new car! 

Beak agape - [avian] furious, about to throw down.

ex : Jesus, this dude really left me beak agape. The audacity to say that !

Feeling clipped - [avian] feeling restless and anxious, like there's no way out

ex : Honestly these last few weeks have left me feeling clipped, between the news, and being dropped from my job. 

REPTILIAN

Makes my scales itch - (draconic) said about something unsettling or that just feels wrong deep down, a gut feeling that something's wrong

ex: We should get out of here. This place is making my scales itch.

Blow fire - (draconic) be extremely angry about something

ex: Did you hear what went down the other day? John was really blowing fire at Derek over that one.

Rattle someone's scales - (draconic) to unsettle or upset someone

ex: Can't stand that guy, he really rattles my scales. 

Cloudy day - (reptilian) usually used as a question, if someone is acting tired or unusual. Like how reptiles need the sun to stay warm, if it’s cloudy, they can’t warm up.

ex: woah, cloudy day? You look like you haven’t slept in months.

[muchmorethanmoney]

AU where in the past Alastor made his deal to a mysterious third party in order to save Vox from some trouble he had gotten into, fully conviced that he would be able to undo whatever he had agreed to only to realize he couldn't and was actually trapped. He never tells Vox because he still hasn't accepted that he failed, but he subconciously blames the Tv demon for it and decides he will never care about anyone again. Not knowing this, Vox can't do anything but assume Alastor is shoving him to the side for no reason and gets angry, causing their friendship to break

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Guizhong (don't mind me re-dropping this with the fixed ones, shh)

[starwikia]

so like are we done with the idea that james is a victim of the internet harassment mob or whatever you guys like to call it when in reality no one like forced him to be part of the public eye again. he had multiple times to disengage but he threw himself head first into the spotlight with some half assed apology where he used his dead mom, illiterate dad, and like 293 mental illnesses that he was in the right to do a widdle plagiarism but it’s not his fault! it’s everyone else’s fault for not being nice to him about it!!! how dare these people bring these issues to the public not thinking how james would feel about it! like ppl are forgetting there was notable period of time james went off air entirely. and every time he’s jumped back it’s always attempts to paint himself as the victim.

like be real for a second if anyone was weaponizing the internet harassment machine it was james somerton. he knew what he was doing when he posted that note. he knew the shit his victims would get for having the crime of (checks notes) voicing out their issues with him. he knew there’s people out there who are foaming at their mouths to use anything they can get their hands on as a “gotcha!” at hbomberguy (right wing people yes, but don’t act like it’s just them i’ve seen plenty of lefties trying to prove they’re superior to harry). they don’t give a shit about james, not really. he’s the dude who hbomb did a “hit piece” (yes that’s a term i’ve seen people use) and that’s what matters.

not to mention the writing that’s also very clearly targeting nick who’s basically cut ties with him at this point. james pushed all the burden on nick by saying it’s their fault, actually. he’s one of the co-writers and everything going to shit was nick’s fault when they had the audacity to move. james is faultless! with james still trying to monetize stolen content on the blatant lie that he’s doing this for nick’s sake as a portfolio. acting as if nick isn’t an sentient human being who could upload their own content, as if nick would even want to be associated with james at this point. this isn’t a teenager being harassed for an honest mistake, this is a 35-year old con artist who’s stolen hundreds of thousands and peddled the most vile shit as actual history but realized he was in deep shit and weaponizes very serious mental health issues as a “i’m just a poor little gay baby!! my alter ego did it!!!”

for the record if you’re among the people who tried to wash down james’ crimes as “he just did plagiarism!! it wasn’t that bad of a crime!” fuck you, man. i’m not kidding.

the fact i’ve witnessed people whitewash his acts of racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia, antisemitism and misogyny (in fact i’m probably still missing a few things here), and say he’s being harassed by the internet just because he stole articles makes it so clear they have no fucking idea what they’re talking about. his shit isn’t fucking erased just bc he realized that he has to handle the consequences. he’s grasping at anything he can at this point to make sure that even if he’s not coming back, he’s sure as hell trying to take anyone he fucking can down with him.

he doesn’t get a second chance to be a content creator at this point. he doesn’t get to show himself to do better. he needs to fucking leave. and if he tries to publicly make himself the victim then he better know that he’s going to get public backlash.

if anything situation proves to me that he can never be trusted with a public platform ever again because he will immediately guilt people into feeling sorry for him.

[sinizade]

Qih'Za, The Demon Slayer

Class: Paladin fighter (Oath breaker)

Romance: Gale (no god Gale, only normal nerd Gale)

Besties: Lae'Zel / Karlach

Qih'Za was the last egg to hatch in her Creche which made some of the other older Githyanki think that she would be a weak child among the others, but they ended up very mistaken as ever since she was able to hold a sword for the first time, she has always shown a clear mastery of whatever battle or training she was in. The problem that always resulted in severe punishment for Qih' Za was her curiosity... Training outside her Creche, field missions, she always left the training of the youngest to find out what was more beyond what her eyes could see and this always caused irritation in the elders, her lack of obedience and discipline were irritating in their eyes.

During her teenage years, she was the proudest point of her Creche, the first Githyanki to kill a demon with her own hands. One of the Githyanki from their Creche was using his magic to try and summon little imps to use in combat and something went terribly wrong causing a flesh and blood demon to appear right in the middle of them killing and beheading everyone in sight no matter if they were children or teenagers. Qih'Za was quick, brutal, almost animalistic against that demon, cutting off its horns, wings, tail, she was hateful and dangerous, almost no longer controlling her body and it was from that day on that she became known as the Demon Slayer, but what was a source of pride and admiration for her Creche and other Githyanki outside of it, for Qih' Za it was a trigger for some kind of disorder in her mind, seeing all these children, seeing her friends and teachers get killed in such a brutal way caused her to have small tantrums throughout her life whenever she was in combat, useful against enemies, but she lost control and always ended up attacking allies and her superiors ignored this due to her usefulness in battle, which always left her with the blood of her brothers and sisters on her hands and even more trouble on her mind.

Against her will she became a dragon rider, it was a "gift" offered by the best and most honorable warrior in her Creche and she shouldn't dare refuse. Receiving her dragon seemed to bring her more comfort... It was strange at first, but she created a great bond with her dragon, her friend, her glorious Agynih. Her first battle with her dragon was something that would never leave her mind... Seeing her dragon, her friend being killed by an Ilith ship, having her body absorbed into that incubator against her will... She just wanted to get out of there, she needed to get out of there.

Even though she didn't have much attachment to magic and even a certain fear due to her trauma, the way Gale showed it seemed to be less scary and more "simple", even beautiful in her view, he was a good teacher, a very intelligent human, there were few big noses that Qih'Za met who actually managed to have her admiration and Gale aroused both admiration and attraction. Even though he wasn't very strong, he made up for it with his mind and spells, he was fast and lethal, his body was firm and concentrated that seemed to flex with each glow that came from his hands and staff. Qih'Za wanted to try him, not just that, she wanted to devour Gale completely, feel his skin against hers and submit him to her.

She stayed with Gale and traveled with him to Water Deep... Even though her mind told her to go with Lae' Zel to fight for the freedom of her people and fight to spread the words of her prince Orpheus, that was no longer life for Qih' Za and now her heart is with Gale... She had been through so much, felt so much... She knew well that Lae'Zel was more than capable of such a mission, that she would free her people and become a legend among all Githyanki. Her companion, her friand and her sister

Some extra information about Qih' Za

She's love chocolate ever since she stole one from a big nose she found sleeping near her Creche, so now that she's trying to find a way to get this parasite out of her mind, she always tries her best to find a few more chocolates.

She's afraid of Raphael and Mizora... Not just ordinary fear, but something that makes her vision blur to the point where she almost loses control of her body again.

She hasn't had a good night's sleep since she found out about Astarion... He wasn't trustworthy, he didn't seem trustworthy and he didn't even talk like someone trustworthy, if he hadn't been so helpful with locks she would have already ripped his head off.

She wanted to taste Wyll when she first saw him, a strong and brave human, strong body almost as if waiting to be touched, but finding out about Mizora made her hateful about him.

[bunji-enthusiast]

Hiii! Im not sure how requests are doing, but I wanted to add one in if that’s okay? Based off the I’m So Sorry story, what if reader went missing for months. None of the toys know what happened, because the company was like “You know what? Nah we can’t risk it”. And then the day right before the Hour of Joy a new toy is revealed in Play Care (or wherever else), a mermaid/merman 👀 And then that just further fuels the toys want to cause the Hour of Joy once they find out

Harmful Revelations

Note || for those confused, here’s the link to the post. BUT— THE ANGST?? HELLO?

Note V2 || sorry this took so long, it’s mayhaps short and stout. Headcanons like before, but this will work okay?

Sypnosis || How would one think this is a dream come true? Well you’re wrong. So out for long and long time had you been found missing, how wonderful to know your importance in their eyes.

Something felt off, strange. You were gone for so long, quite a long time now. It was appearing to be strange to both CatNap and DogDay alike, all the other Smiling Critters had shared the same sentiments. Why did you disappear so suddenly? Nothing could be known about you, you simply just went off the grid.

DogDay had tried asking around, any employees in sight that he could find. Even trying to take it up with any superior, alas he was left without a plausible answer. Always faced with, “Sorry, but your angel has been terminated.” or, “Oh, em? I’m pretty sure [First Name] quit as far as I know.” 

Many, and by many toys, were visibly concerned about your lack of appearance. Huggy and even Mommy asked about You, to which DogDay had apologized – he was in the dark as they were. Pug-a-Pillar felt sad, he couldn’t do anything to help, or even find out anything plausible. Mommy reassured the fluffy pillar, saying how many toys felt sad about you not showing up to the building anymore.

Oh hell.

Soon enough, their anger was rightfully provoked. A new toy had been introduced to Game station, retaining an appearance that was very reminiscent of your physical and mental quailites. Mommy found it odd and disturbing even for someone like him, why did this half-human, half-fish person look so closely like you? 

The insomniac cat was the first to notice this alongside Mommy as she had talked about her concerns with CatNap, spreading this information quickly among the Smiling Critters. Soon so many more had found out about this, knowing about the toy that looked so much like you. Huggy Wuggy was one of the few that had a gall to strike a conversation with the toy, nobody (or no toy) had expected the hugger to come back with a very strikingly angry look about his wits. 

Oh they were all very angry as soon as Huggy began spreading this information around once again, revealing the fact it was indeed you. Completely transformed, your consciousness being molded into the body you were in now. You were experimented on as they were, the few of them were extremely set off.

Might one even dare say that they were unnerved to the point to finally set off the Hour Of Joy. 

Let’s say nobody came out alive to tell the tale for a reason.

[rottiens]

I need to hear more about your detective sukuna thoughts pls

✮ cw. 18+, implicit violence and sensitive topics, it is implied that the reader is a foreigner, detective au. fun fact; toji is sukuna's boss in this au just because I want him to :3 | divider creds: cafekitsune.

Sukuna has a reputation for corruption, always finding excuses to shoot, harm witnesses and, of course, use handcuffs. His methods are not always orthodox, but they always pay off. That's why his boss usually turns a blind eye when Sukuna is in charge of a case, giving him the necessary immunity and resources he requests.

Murders, robberies, arms trafficking: these are just some of the cases the great Sukuna has worked on, finding solutions over a ten-year career, with all of those cases now closed… except one.

The surprise death of the president of one of Tokyo's most important companies shocked the country, filling the newspapers and front pages for months. The case was closed as a suicide, but Sukuna knew there was more to it, especially when his superiors insisted that there was nothing more to investigate and that he should no longer stick his nose where it was not called. That only made him, of course, more determined to probe where he was not called.

He has been working "undercover" for the past few weeks, though not under orders from his superiors, but under his own rules. Investigating witnesses, collecting documents, sniffing out clues like a bloodhound, and among all those things, there's always one thing in common: you.

He has been watching you. You charge and pass each object through the scanner with a neutral face and steady hands. You look like an expert in the field. The tag on your uniform says "Aiko," clearly a fake name. Sukuna had seen your name on the report now lying under his mattress. He knows your real name, age, hometown but that's all he could collect, no college record, a family to pursue, an ex-partner or any other previous job. The president's personal assistant with a blank background, living in one of the most humble areas of the city, far from magazines, newspapers, camera lenses….

Sukuna places the pack of cigarettes on the counter with more force than necessary just as the store bell chimes. It's just the two of you now.

"Just that?" you ask without looking at him. Sukuna searches your eyes silently until you hold his gaze. Exhausted eyes, painted the black of your dark circles under your eyes.

How long have you not slept? What is keeping you awake? The questions make him bite his lip, restraining himself from pulling out his notebook and starting the interrogation right there, curiosity eating him alive from the inside but he knows you still need one more push to go down. He finally gives in, shakes his head in affirmation and you tell him the price, the same one you've given him for the past few weeks with the same lifeless countenance as always.

Sukuna pulls his wallet out of his leather jacket, showing you a flash of his badge glowing in the darkness of his clothes. Sukuna sees you tense up behind the counter. You pick up your hands and hide them where he can't see them. He slides a wad of bills onto the wood along with a white card with his phone number and name in plain black letters.

You shake your head before he has a chance to say anything.

"I just want to talk," he says, still, his voice a little hoarse.

"I don't have anything to talk to you about." Your accent is good, but he can easily tell you're not from here.

"I just want to buy you a coffee."

Sukuna leans back on the counter, holding his jaw with his open hand as he examines you up and down. You lean back in the chair, almost as if you think he's going to grab you and force you to stay still. You are visibly trembling, and it all makes his adrenaline rush through his veins, he is drooling, his eyes slightly wide at the prey in front of him. What are you hiding, what do you know?

"Can you leave now?"

Sukuna realizes how easy it would be to handcuff you at this point. With a little effort, he'd leap over the counter, mount you on his broad shoulders, and haul you out the door to throw you in his truck. However, remember that it's Monday, the flow of people is higher at the beginning of the week, and it would be a hassle to have to shoot another civilian.

Sukuna stretches as he groans; all the imagination of the scene has exhausted him. So he runs a hand through his hair and shoves the cigarette box into his back pockets.

"Call me if you're bored. I promise it will be worth it," he comments with a smile that makes you visibly uncomfortable.

Then he walks towards the exit and, with a creak of the bell, the cold snowflakes that his stale presence brought to the place begin to fall on your head and arms, covered by the thin uniform shirt, making you shiver even more, causing your fingers and lips to become like ice cubes with the winter that the infamous detective leaves behind.

[meanbossart]

What is your take on Astarion's relationship with his siblings?

I have put unreasonable amounts of time into thinking about what the dynamics were like during Cazador's reign in that house. I mean, imagine sharing the same tasks, bedrooms, and general experiences of abuse and duress with the same people FOR TWO HUNDRED YEARS. That's absolute madness. If any of you have had experiences with co-living with family under stress for any extensive amount of time, you know very well the levels of emotional 4D chess-ing that tend to take place as a result. You end up distributing so much frustration and anger around and often onto the very same people you will ultimately seek comfort from - this is that situation but blown up to impossible proportions.

So, "strained" doesn't really do justice as a descriptor here. I believe the family had a dynamic, ever-evolving hierarchy within itself, years-worthy of time where the spawn shifted alliances and made "cliques" within themselves - rebels would evolve into pushovers and trusted friends would turn into snitches. You had endless amounts of drama within the group and flies on the walls would witness them cut each other's heads off one day and sob into one another's laps the next.

Naturally I think all of them were resistant to the concept of being a "family" at first, but it's pretty much impossible to not develop family-like ties throughout that long of a period. Following Cazador's death, I believe there would be further splintering within as some want to maintain said ties and others are eager to cut them - seeing both their siblings and the relationships themselves as yet another painful reminder of what Cazador imposed upon them.

I think Astarion falls into the latter category. If he had his way, he would never see, speak, or think of his brothers and sisters again. And while the sibling nomenclature is a deeply-rooted habit, he doesn't think it holds any legitimacy whatsoever (whether or not that's the case in his heart is another matter).

Dalyria (the moon-elf physician, whom I have come up with a story, personality, background and motivations during several long showers that might not necessarily line up with yours, so, if anything of what I'm about to say seems pulled out of a hat, it's because it was) is the opposite. She has grown attached to the constant presence of her siblings and taken a mother-goose role upon herself. With the Exception of Leonard and Violet (more on that later) she has decided they are her responsibility and wishes the group would stick together.

I like to think that there's a lot of history between those two in particular. Obviously, the interactions between Astarion and his siblings are very brief, but It's enough to run with. Dalyria shows a lot of concern and understanding towards him and even pleads when he threatens Petras' life - again, I think she did a lot of trying to pragmatically keep the peace among them and genuinely grew attached to a few - Astarion being the main one of said few. You even get the smallest hint of a on-and-off intimate relationship with the way he derisively calls her by her nickname.

Also, Astarion very occasionally showcases enough emotional maturity that I could see him latching onto the one other person around who seems to have her wits about her, but he's still flawed enough that Dalyria can think of him as a younger sibling that needs her care. Not to mention that, to me, she demonstrates a penchant for moral superiority and a dash of a machiavellian outlook, based on her diary and her completely unapologetic initiative to kill a child on the small chance it would lead her to a cure - not any child either, but Leonard's child. I can totally see Astarion sympathizing and gravitating towards someone like that.

Which brings us to the rest of the siblings - I would wager that, at least by the end of it all, Leonard and Violet were the odd-ones out. As it tends to happen within any tight-knit group, when one succeeds by stepping over the others (even if the reasons for it are justifiable) that brews a lot of resentment and eventual exclusion. Leonard not only did that, but he apparently still held onto hope of future and family outside the Szarr house; wheter or not everybody wanted out, I think a us-versus-them mentality is unavoidable under those circumstances, and Leonard was looked down upon by the others in their respective ways for what he was trying to do.

Violet just seems like she had gone a little cuckoo to me. We get very little about her, but when I think of an adult woman playing childish pranks on her roomates while you are all stuck in what's essentially a human trafficking ring... I think of a person who's either just a very silly breed of evil or who has lost touch with reality, and the latter is more interesting, imo. I think no one liked her, not only because she was a nuisance but also because she became completely emotionally untouchable. I think both Violet and Leonard are spawn who did not survive long after they were all freed.

I'll stop here before I ramble on for another 8 paragraphs about Aurelia, Yousen and Petras (Oh Petras, my beloved), but, yes, suffice to say that I believe it was kind of complicated LOL

EDIT: Not me calling Leon "Leonard" this whole post. Sorry buddy, you look like a Leonard.

[unreliablesnake]

Bliss (Ghost x f!reader)

Summary: Ghost gives in to his feelings, putting the fact he's above you in the ranks aside, and meets you after your latest mission.

Note: Part 2 of this, but it can be read as a stand-alone. / Here's the happy ending, I hope you'll like it. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

Warning: SMUT, MINORS DNI! Afab!reader. Fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v.

A little voice in the back of his mind kept telling Ghost to break down his walls. Let’s not worry about ranks, let’s not worry about consequences. Keep it a secret, make it some fun sneaking game just for the two of you.

To his disappointment, you kept your distance after that night. Not like he could blame you after he made it clear there could be nothing between you. While he stood next to Price in the briefing room, you looked at him every once in a while, your eyes showing the kind of sadness that made it hard for him to focus. He wished he could hug you, tell you he was sorry and he made a grave mistake by pushing you away.

Because as the days passed, he became more and more sure that he should give in to his needs. He wanted to be with you, but strictly outside of work. This way he could keep a little distance, he could sell himself the idea of breaking the rules.

Soap noticed that something had changed between the two of you, but he only dropped half a sentence before changing his mind. He knew better than to dig into his superior's private life. Whether he had asked you or not, Ghost didn't know. But for his own sanity, he assumed he did not.

The night before they could finally go home, he was scrolling your Instagram profile while lying on his bed, smiling to himself every time he saw a picture of you. It was rare, mostly found among the photos you were tagged in, but he was grateful for each and every one of them.

Suddenly he felt the mattress shift as someone sat down on its edge. He turned off the phone's screen and put it down next to his head to see who it was. When his eyes landed in you, he felt a wave of guilt passing through his body.

"Why are you torturing yourself?" you asked kindly as you reached out to place a hand on his chest.

His skin burned where you touched him, making it really hard to resist the urge to put his hands on top of yours. "What are you talking about?"

You let out a sigh at this. "You liked those photos by accident, I guess. Ghost, you said we can't be together, yet you keep looking at my photos. I'm gonna ask you again. Why are you torturing yourself?"

As he propped on his elbows, Ghost thought about the answer. "I don't want to be away from you," he admitted so honestly that he surprised himself. Well, based on the look on your face, there was no turning back now. "I know I said we can't be together, but I can't stop thinking about you, no matter how hard I try. Why are you like this, huh? Why are you so irresistible?" he asked, his question nothing more but a barely audible whisper.

With a smile, you leaned closer and slowly moved your hand up to his neck, your fingers brushing the hem of his balaclava. "Meet me after the mission," you told him quietly, your voice carrying the sort of authority that made it impossible to say no to you.

Ghost knew he was at your mercy, there was no way he could say no to that. He wasn't strong enough. So he took your hand in his and moved closer to give you a kiss through the fabric of his mask, savoring the feeling just in case this was the first and last time he could do it.

"Come on, I know you want to meet me," you tried kindly, your eyes locked with his as you waited for his response.

"Fuck, love, how could I say no to that?" the lieutenant breathed against your lips.

And he sent you a DM to discuss the details, making sure to keep the conversation online so the others wouldn't know about it. He didn't want conflict. He didn't want tension. The tension between the two of you was more than enough on his plate.

Three days later he was standing in front of your door, this time without his usual mask, his hand raised to knock. But he hesitated, he wasn't so sure anymore about this date. No, he could do it. He shouldn't be that–

"So you're just gonna stand here without letting me know you're here?" he heard your voice all of a sudden.

When he looked up, he noticed you standing in the now open door, your arm resting against the doorframe. You looked so happy and relaxed, the total opposite of what he usually saw during missions. With your trendy clothes and light makeup, he felt like kissing you on those cherry red lips.

"God, why are you like this?" he asked from no one in particular before acting on his instincts and pulling you into a kiss.

You giggled against his lips as you pulled him inside by the front of his shirt. "And you're really handsome. Have you been told that?" you inquired with a wide grin when he kicked in the door and pushed your back against it.

He gently bit on your lower lip, happy to hear a satisfied moan escape you. "We're not gonna leave for dinner, are we?"

You shook your head in response, letting him know that he was free to do whatever he wanted. And Ghost didn't need you to repeat yourself, he took the lead without hesitation, his hands moving to remove your clothes with precise and calculated moves.

Ghost's hands roamed your body as if he was trying to memorize every inch and every curve, turning it into a core memory along with everything you were about to do tonight. Because he was sure this would be a night to remember, he could feel that what you had there was truly magical.

"I want to taste you," he mumbled against your neck, enjoying the way you pushed your body against his upon hearing his request.

You gave him the directions to your bedroom, moving in perfect sync with him until the point he picked you up and gently laid you down. Ghost kneeled down next to the bed then wrapped his muscular arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his mouth.

"Prop on your elbows, sweetheart, I want to see your beautiful eyes," he ordered you sternly, making you do as he said while his tongue ran along your already wet cunt. "Look at you. I barely did anything and you're already having trouble focusing on me."

While Ghost laughed at this, you couldn't mirror his reaction. Your thoughts were somewhere else, somewhere much higher, but he didn't mind as long as your eyes were on him. He gently sucked on your clit, the mewl leaving your swollen lips sounding like music to his ears.

It wasn't a race, but he wanted to win, and winning meant drawing an orgasm out of you as fast as he could. He wanted to see how badly you wanted him, how your body reacted to his touch, and so when you tried pressing your thighs together only from feeling his tongue exploring your pussy, he pushed them wider apart, not giving you the chance to stop him.

Your eyes were hazy when he looked into them again, which drew a satisfied smirk on his shiny lips. He let go of one of your thighs and gently dipped a finger into your needy hole, slowly pumping as he returned to your puffy clit, sucking on it as if he was having his last dinner in this world.

You threw your head back in pleasure when he pushed another finger inside you, whispering his name over and over again, begging him to keep going, to make you come. "Simon, please, I can't," you whined between your moans, your hands twisting the sheets.

Ghost let out a deep growl as he put his other hand on your stomach to keep you in place. "Come on, love, come for me," he said, his eyes fixed on you, looking for the eye contact that could hopefully push you over the edge.

And the moment you looked into his amber eyes, your body began to shake, meaningless words leaving those perfect lips like a prayer as you finally reached your first high. He lapped up every drop of your flowing juices, just like he was a man starved, and he couldn't stop smiling while he watched your body slowly relax again.

He licked his fingers clean before pressing one more kiss on your cunt and getting rid of his own clothes. He signaled you to move on the bed, and you crawled up to the headboard, your hand reached out to invite him closer, legs wider apart to give him enough space. He gave you a sloppy kiss, simply loving the way his cock teased your entrance.

"Mind if I don't use a condom? I wanna feel you, baby," he asked between kisses.

You were probably still too lost in the sensation your orgasm left behind to think straight, so you agreed, and he was bad enough not to care about whether or not it was the right decision to make. He wanted it too badly to play nice this time. And if it came down to it, there was always a morning after pill to solve the problem.

So he pushed the tip in, teasing you just enough to earn your whispered pleas for more, begging him to finally fill your needy cunt. But for now he enjoyed this little game of his, only giving you the tip before pulling out, slowly turning you into a desperate mess.

"Si, please," you begged again as you reached up to grab his bicep.

"You want me to fuck you this badly?" he asked with a smirk, then leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

You returned it, hungrily devouring him while moving your hips in a futile attempt to get him to finally make a move. Ghost thought for a second, wondering if he should stop being cruel and just give you what you wanted so badly. Seeing the look in your beautiful eyes, he let out a sigh and decided not to tease you any longer.

At first he went slow, pushing his cock into your cunt slowly, giving you the time to get used to his size. Your tight pussy felt like heaven, and he didn't think he could last long if you didn't relax soon. "Love, try to relax," he told you quietly, pushing a strand of hair out of your face.

"It's hard to relax when you're filling me up so well," you whined before pulling his head down into another kiss.

He began to move his hips in a steady rhythm, feeling ecstatic from hearing your sweet mewls and moans, feeling you press your body close to his as you arched your back from pleasure. He felt your cunt clench around his cock, keeping him deep between your velvety walls, and sending him closer to the edge.

He sped up, going a little harder maybe, but not hard enough to hurt you. He paid attention to your reactions, making sure you enjoyed every second of your time together. When your breathing and the noises you made changed, he knew it wouldn't take much for you to have your next orgasm.

So he reached down to rub your clit with his thumb, earning a pathetic whine from you in return, but he didn't stop, it only made him more determined to give you what you deserved. "Come on, baby, I know you're close," he told you before kissing your neck.

And soon enough you finally came around his cock, causing him to reach his high as well not long after that, but he was still focused, he still wanted to fuck you through it. You were overstimulated, completely lost in the sensation, and he simply couldn't get enough of this sight.

He raised his body to kneel between your legs after he pulled out, pushing his leaking cum back into your cunt as he proudly smiled to himself. There you were, a broken mess despite him not even going that hard on you. This was intimate and caring sex, not the rough stress relief he usually experienced with other women.

You were special, the light in his dark life, and the more he thought about it, the more sure he became that he didn't want to let you go. He crawled back next to you, pulling you against his chest before placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Mind if I stick around for a few more days? I could use more of your perfect little pussy," he suggested cheekily.

You let out a quiet chuckle before giving him a soft kiss. "I wanted to ask you to stay, so we were thinking the same thing."

Ghost wasn't used to this, but he loved this feeling. He loved how calm and happy he was around you, how easily you could make him forget about his crappy life.

[ladykailitha]

The Harrington Pattern Part 11

The second one for today.

There is a joust, a wild Eddie shows off his mating dance, and Steve and Jeff plot a romance.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

MY TAG LIST FOR THIS STORY IS CLOSED

****

Steve sat on the edge of his seat as he cheered each successful strike the Black Knight made and winced with every hit he took.

The kids were loudly shouting and cheering and even Nancy would leap to her feet when the Black Knight won a match.

It was down to the final match. The Black Knight verses the White Lion. They were two points each. Final run.

The horses pawed at the ground. The knights shifted in their armor as they tried to settle the joints. Every person in that stadium was on the edge of their seat, leaning forward as they held their collective breath.

The man stepped forward with the flag and eyed each knight nervously. He looked up at the king and queen. The king nodded giving his consent. The flag dropped and the man leapt out of the way.

The horses raced down the line as the knights lowered their lances. The audience slowly rose to their feet as the horses thundered toward each other.

No one had yet taken a single breath.

Then...

CLASH!

And the White Lion flew to the ground as his horse made it to the other side of the arena. His squire grabbed the horses reins to stop it from running away.

The whole crowd erupted, the breath finally released in shouts of exultation.

The Black Knight and his squire were at their other end of field, whooping and hollering as they celebrated his win.

Steve and Robin grabbed each other and jumped up and down. They hadn’t seen anything so exciting since Lucas made the final shot of the game.

And it appeared that the boy in question thought the same as he kept screaming “YES!!”

The Black Knight took off his helmet and waved at the crowd. And their entire row let out a gasp.

“Jeff?” Dustin squealed. “Jeff was the Black Knight all along? That is so awesome!”

Now Lucas was completely flipping out. No one could deny that Jeff had won fair and square. That he had the superior skill.

Steve looked over at the king and queen. Neither one of them looked happy to see it had been Jeff the whole time. But they appeared gracious enough when they were handing out the prizes.

Steve was cheering and screaming right along with the rest of them. And it was a cool surprise. Who would have thought that Jeff played his favorite sport.

After the award ceremony they were allowed to go see Jeff at the stable.

Steve looked around when he entered. Jeff caught his eye and grinned. They both knew who he was looking for.

“He’s getting ready,” Jeff said with a wink. “You’ll just not want to miss the next event.”

Steve bit his lip and nodded. Whatever it was, he knew it was going to be amazing. He just wished he had more of an idea of what it was. He looked out at the arena floor and saw that the long wooden partition for the joust had been taken down and workers were quickly putting up... what, Steve wasn’t sure.

“Just let me get out of this armor,” Jeff was saying, “and I’ll join you guys in the stands.”

As they walked back to the stands, Robin pulled out her flier of the day’s events and Steve looked over her shoulder.

“What’s trick riding?” he mumbled.

But she just shrugged. She didn’t know either.

They sat up in the stands and they talked among themselves as the workers finished up what they were doing.

The field was mostly empty except a small platform where the rider would mount their horse.

There were two horses, both black with weird looking saddles.

The announcer got up and bellowed into a megaphone.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he shouted. “For the first time ever here at the Hawkins Renaissance Fair we have Hawkins own Eddie Munson trick riding extraordinaire.”

Eddie stepped out onto the field but gone were the puffy sleeves and thigh high boots. His costume was tight fitting and boots were soft soled. It still looked period, but it was clearly designed from modern materials which would make it easier to move in.

Strapped to his back was a lute, the same lute he had been carrying all week.

He mounted the platform and waved to the crowd.

Eddie got on to the first horse and got it into motion. The other horse merely shook its mane as it waited patiently for its turn.

Eddie raised his feet and slipped them into a set of stirrups higher up on the saddle. Sending a wink Steve’s way, he stood up on the horse and began to play.

He began singing. Horribly. Eddie was a fine enough singer for their band, but it seemed to Steve he was deliberately off key as he sang ribald bar tunes.

He slipped a harness over his head and around his waist. Then to shock of the crowd, slid off the side of the horse. Steve was on his feet, so sure that Eddie would be crushed under the thundering hooves the galloping horse.

But as the horse turned, Steve could see that Eddie was safe and still playing.

His caterwauling got progressively worse the more dangerous the stunt was. Almost as if he was signaling to the audience that he was safe.

He made it back to the platform where he handed the lute off to someone who had stepped out onto the field for the reason. They removed the saddle off the one horse Eddie had been riding and he straddled both horses, one foot on each.

And off he went racing around the arena.

Steve was sure that his heart had stopped several times, once with every trick Eddie did.

He was also pretty sure that wasn’t good for it.

But Eddie landed every trick like a pro and at the end he hopped off the platform with a jaunty wave and a deep bow.

Steve was cheering up and down as the crowd around him erupted with applause.

Eddie bowed again and with the other guy that had taken his lute, lead the horses away.

Steve isn’t sure who was more impressed by Eddie’s riding the kids or Nancy. Her jaw had dropped from the first trick and remained that way all throughout Eddie’s riding.

“Where did he learn that?” she asked.

Jeff grinned. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Everyone exchanged glances as the whole gaggle followed Jeff back to the stable where Eddie and the other guy were brushing down the horses Eddie had used in his show.

The man, who on closer inspection was a teenage old boy spotted Jeff and waved. “Jeffrey! You did great out there today. Mom hasn’t stopped gushing about it.”

The Party turned to Jeff in shock. But he just chuckled.

“Guys,” he said, “this is my little brother Ollie. Ollie, you remember Gareth and Brian, the boys are Hellfire, the girls kick ass, and the two guys are the brat wranglers.”

Jonathan and Steve shared a look before they chorused, “Hey!”

Eddie laughed, but did the proper introducing. When he got to Steve, Ollie’s eyes went wide and nodded.

“Steve Harrington,” Ollie said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Steve frowned. “From Jeff?” he asked, confused.

“No, man,” Ollie said with a laugh, “from Eddie.”

Who promptly ducked behind his horse under the guise of brushing its mane.

Steve licked his lips slowly as a sly smile took over his face. “No doubt only horrible things,” he teased.

Eddie let out a squawk and glared at him from around the horse. “Hey!”

Steve laughed and Eddie let out a little huff of breath as he pouted.

“Our parents own the horses,” Jeff said, “We have three that joust and two the trick ride and then there’s King, who was a racehorse in his heyday.”

Ollie nodded, “We usually let whoever is playing the king of the Fair ride him at the closing ceremonies. He’s pretty as hell.”

“So like Steve,” Dustin said. “He used to be called King Steve in high school.”

Steve tipped the twerp’s hat off.

“Hey!”

El giggled and Dustin’s head whipped around to face her. She pressed her lips together and looked up and away.

“Can I see King?” Will asked, softly.

Ollie lit up. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Jeff. “I’ve got get him ready for tonight anyway, so I can I have Will help me?”

Jeff smiled at his little brother. “Sure thing, it’ll make the work go faster.”

“He seems like a good kid,” Jonathan said, “how old is he?”

“He’s fourteen,” he said, “so he’ll be an incoming freshman this year.”

Lucas smiled. “So a year younger than us.”

Jeff nodded.

“Is he going to join Hellfire?” Dustin asked, practically vibrating out of his skin.

“He wants to but with me graduating last year,” Jeff said with a wince, “he’s worried he won’t know anyone but Gareth.”

Lucas grinned. “Well he knows us now, we’ll hang out with him all summer so that come school time, he’ll have friends in Hellfire.”

Jeff grinned back. “I think he’d really like that.”

Steve smiled at his nuggets. He was glad that they were willing to take this kid they just met under their wing and make sure he didn’t get lost at high school.

He really couldn’t have been prouder. He caught Eddie’s eye and the other man grinned.

He lopped over to Steve, the grin never leaving his face.

“So pretty boy,” Eddie teased. “You enjoy the show?”

Steve nudged him his shoulder. “Of course I did. A bit terrifying on this side of things though.”

Eddie laughed. “I assure you, sweetheart, it’s equally terrifying on my end, too.”

“How long have you been doing this then?”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and thought about it. “On and off since I got to Hawkins and became friends with Jeff. His mom is the one that thought me, but I’ve only been serious about it in the last couple years. As a way to keep myself from getting too depressed about school.”

“That’s fair,” Steve said.

When he looked around most of them had gone. It was only Robin, Gareth, Jeff, and Max that remained.

“Where did everyone go?” Will asked as he came out the stall with Ollie.

Robin began counting of on her fingers. “Brian and Mike went to go watch the caber toss on the outskirts of the Fair. Dustin, Lucas and El went to go watch the sword fights. Nancy and Jonathan went to try the ax throwing.” She looked around. “Did I miss anyone?”

The rest of them shook their heads.

“And the rest of us were waiting for Will!” she finished with a cheer.

Will blushed and Eddie and Steve shared a knowing glance.

“Hey, do you and Ollie want to come with me to see the bagpipers?” Max asked Will.

Will and Ollie looked at each other and then nodded as one. The two boys followed the pirate queen, walking side by side.

“Well,” Gareth said, “I’m glad Mike missed that one.”

Robin looked over at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Mike is always jealous of anyone who spends time with Will,” Steve explained, “except El. Even if he spends all his time with her, he still gets jealous when Will gives up and goes to talk to someone else.”

Eddie nodded. “That kid has got to get his head out of his ass, before a sweet boy like Ollie sweeps our Will the Wise off his feet.”

Jeff grinned. “I like that idea!”

Gareth snorted. “You only like that idea because Mike called your thief a common rogue.”

“My thief is literally a lord,” Jeff defended. “Like Lord Kelnic is his name. He can’t be a common rogue.”

Steve leaned over to Eddie and whispered, “What are they talking about?”

“I’ll explain it later,” Eddie whispered back.

Steve nodded, knowing that Eddie would do just that.

“Hey, you want to go for a stroll?” Steve asked. “I don’t care where, really. I just want to spend the afternoon with you.”

Eddie perked up. “Hell yeah! Why don’t I show the behind the scenes stuff most people don’t get to see?”

“Sounds perfect.” Steve smiled.

Robin and Jeff shared a fond glance about their best friends and shook their heads as Eddie led Steve away.

****

Part 12 Part 13

I love jousting Eddie as much as the next gal, but I also realize that Eddie looks like a stiff wind would knock him over and would be flying out of that saddle with every hit. So I made him a trick rider instead.

I also did not set out to write Will a love interest, the love interest just shoved himself into my story and I let him stay.

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @carlyv @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666 @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @thespaceantwhowrites @paintgonewrong @mogami13 @beelze-the-bubkiss @croatoan-like-its-hot @retro-vagabond @sani-86 @pansexuality-activated @y4r3luv @dauntlessdiva @vampire-eddie-brain-rot @lololol-1234 @nightmareglitter CLOSED

[writteninlunarlight-years]

I have an idea if you accept💕

What would the romantic and scary version be like? From the nun! Alastor with reader, where the 7 years that Alastor disappeared in hell, for some reason he was summoned by someone (probably teenagers doing stupid things) and because of that, he was trapped in the radio, of course he took advantage of this to haunt everyone who bought the radio ... Until the Human! reader bought the radio, but what Alastor didn't expect was that he fell in love with her after a while... Just like in the horror film Valak, apart from the romance part, it's obvious! (film: The Conjuring).

Note feel comfortable could be a yandere alastor? If it can't be normal....

Wicked Woman~

Alastor X Reader

(I love this concept, especially if, later on down the line, the reader dies and remembers her life with Al. Please let me know if you would like this as a part two. I followed closely to what you asked but put my spin on it. Hope you all enjoy.)

TW: Dark themes, Murder, Death, Yandere Type Tendencies, Stockholm Syndrome

Alastors POV

Hell was everything I could ask for it to be. After my untimely death by those damn dogs, I vowed to continue my pursuit of power and strength. I entered hell unfathomably powerful, and I will take hell over with this power. I was feared and revered even by the highest class of demons that walked among us. Thousands of poor, unfortunate souls rested in my claws. Even in this prey-like form, I was purely a predator. 

How my name ended up in those damn demon books up top was beyond me; it probably had something to do with the one I sold my soul to for even more power—a damn trick to make me suffer for having power that rivaled those in all of hell. Yet, no one was brave enough to fully summon me or try and control me. I was elusive and would scare anyone who wanted to open ties with me on the mortal plane. However, that was my biggest downfall. In hopes of showing off my immense power and strength, I allowed those up top to know more about me in the end.

Ironically, children sought to summon me more than any damn adult; hell, I even thought cult leaders would call upon me more than this. That fateful day, though, when I was trapped in the radio, was due to some pesky teenage punks looking to harm some poor young girl. I hate people like that, those who prey on the weak, just like my father. 

It was quick work killing those teens off; the world was probably thousands of times better off without them. Yet every time I tried to go back to hell, I was stuck, some weird plan of reality; I was there on earth, but I wasn't. This had to be another twisted game my master was putting me through. It was another joke to show how I was still just below them on the food chain of power.

I knew showing my demon form would be unwise in this place; enough people tried calling on me as it was. While deciding my next plan of action, I heard the sirens coming close to the location of the slaughter. Sighing, I absorbed myself in the radio, hidden from sight and out of mind. Watching the clean-up was entertaining, but scaring the wits out of the police and cleaning crew was far superior. 

Once all was said and done, I learned this cabin was in the middle of the woods, once owned by one of those teens' parents. After the gruesome murders and odd occurrences around the house done by yours truly, they sold it off. This left a gorgeous cabin in the woods empty for me to enjoy. Being so secluded, I could come and go from the radio as I pleased; no need to fear that someone would see me.

This cabin reminded me so much of my home in the bayou with my mother. The woods resembled that of where my father took me hunting, resembled where I ended his life, and countless other horrible humans that got in my way. This place felt like I was living my human life once more with less killing that is.

For a year, I had tried going back to hell countless times. However, I realized till my master needed me, I was trapped here on the mortal plane. Accepting my fate, I decided to give up on hell and take this nice vacation. Who knows, maybe with my time away, I could have new ladders to climb upon my return. Plus, no one would dare to buy a cabin in the middle of the woods after a gruesome murder, where it was deemed haunted. 

I was dead wrong, however, when I heard the noises outside the cabin door. It finally happened on the day that marked the first year of my purgatory on the human plane. Someone had bought the cabin in the woods. I was shocked and almost pleased with this person's brazen stupidity. It's probably another punk kid wanting to do rituals or someone running away from their misdeeds. 

Yet the biggest surprise was the young woman who entered the house with the first set of boxes. She was lovely, kind, and vibrant. She wore a large black hat even though the skies were cloudy gray. Her voice sounded like bells from a chapel, and her smile radiated the sun's light. If my undead heart could beat, it would be beating faster. 

I swore off love at a young age, only courting women when it allowed me closer to targets that I needed to kill. Once in hell, I just killed to kill, no need for love or emotions. Yet this woman lit something within me that was to be feared and hated. 

As the days passed, I watched her unpack her boxes. I learned she was a Wiccan, finding joy in the dark and light of all things. I knew she knew I was there. She could feel me lurking in the shadows and hovering around. No matter how often she saged the house, I stayed, an entity far surpassing her mortal purities and spirituality. However, I would hand it to her; her spiritual prowess was strong.

I tried relentlessly to scare her off; I had a rule about killing women: unless they were evil, I would never lay a hand on them. So, all I had going for me was scare tactics and horror. Convincing her, I would eventually kill her. A few cuts and bruises here or there from a broken floorboard or a throwing knife. She never budged, though, a smile on her face as she said a prayer and went on with her day like I hadn’t just hung knives above her head. 

Months had passed since she joined me in this cabin; she cut firewood early in the morning, would come home, shower, cook food, go out to the town an hour away, and then come home and relax or pray to her deities. She did not care about my existence; the more I became attached to her, the more she didn’t care or fear. She took to calling me Shadowy, a stupid name but chosen purely due to me refusing to show her my proper form. I lurked in the shadows, only allowing that to be seen. Sure beat her first name for me, Radioy; humans suck at naming things.

Sitting at two years trapped in the mortal realm with a woman I was growing fond of wasn’t my ideal step in the process of unlimited power. However, I was more content trapped here in this cabin as long as it was with her and her alone. She would bring men over, enjoy their company, and send them on their way. They never made it far, though, having accidents as they returned to their place. Even when she left the house for the night to see them, I knew exactly who they were. 

By year three, she had stopped dating, growing frustrated with my senseless killings. The police had shown up at our door countless times to question her involvement, only for them to fade from existence as well. She stopped going outside much, only cutting firewood and grocery shopping occasionally. As much as it pained me to see her light diminishing, it also fueled a sick, sadistic part of me. 

I enjoyed watching her more; now that I didn’t have to worry about others popping up, I began showing her my proper form. A slight sense of pride swelled in me as she became pleased to witness my deer-like looks. Though I hated my looks, how she fawned over me, almost forgetting all my misdeeds towards her, was pleasing. I allowed myself to indulge in daily life with her, I stopped trying to scare her or kill her, and we fell into a semblance of domestic life. 

Once year four came around, she was tied to the house after interacting with a hunter in the woods. I would go out and kill her meat and anyone on our land. I would bring her wood and sustenance with my face covered in the blood of those who dared to try me. Eventually, she, too, became okay with this method of mine, and I was thrilled. I had my perfect human right here just for me. 

I taught her how to dance and cook meals my mother once taught me, showing her the joys of good Southern cooking. Though I could not process the cooked meals I showed her, I knew feeding her and making her strong was all that mattered. I gained plenty of sustenance by killing off anyone who came close to her. I gained sustenance by watching her fall more into me and my spell as I fell more into hers.

 Year five came around, and I had her clung to me; she was mine and mine alone. She gave up on her deities and only worshiped me. Fueling the God complex I already had, I swore to make her mine; no other man or demon could take her. She was powerful spiritually, and she would be vital in her death when she joined me. 

I began teaching her how to kill and maim those who entered our woods. I taught her how to murder and never be caught. In the beginning, she was horrible. I had to end a lot of police lives, yet she grew stronger as time went on. Soon, she was as notorious of a serial killer as I once was. The woods covered our tracks, ensuring we were hidden from the eyes of others. Oh, how I wished when I was alive that a spirit would assist me like this in my kills. 

In year six, I knew she was as strong as I was when I fell to hell. I made her so perfect, molding her to my ways. I knew when her time came in death, she would find me; my Doe. She used her spiritual powers to assist me in breaking my binds to my master. Though nothing ever seemed to work, she was persistent. I was proud; I understood why pride would be such a sin. Watching her work her powers and drain herself for me was delicious. 

This year was the year I finally claimed her. I took her and made her mine, not just in thought or word but in mind and body. I would not allow anyone to ruin my hard work. She was perfect, and she deserved me as I did her. We were bonded in a way that transcended soul bonds or mortal relationships. We were unstoppable.

This knowledge alone is why, come year seven, I felt the shift in my presence. I knew it was coming to my departure from her world. My master was calling me back to hell, threatened by the perfect morsel that I had created. My master knew I would be unstoppable if I followed my plan to convince her to die, to join me in the afterlife as one. This alone is what sent me back to hell, the fear I struck in the one I had controlling me.

I knew when it was my time to perish, she would join me here, and we would rule hell side by side. No one would stop that—no contract, no princess, and certainly no king. Though I enjoy the hotel and the people I have met there, I know my power only has room to grow. My doe would make quick work of anyone who dared to take her from me. She was left on earth to grow stronger and stronger to benefit me in her death. To help me rule all of hell. I would be unstoppable and grow immensely in all dimensions and planes of reality.

Oh, and my power will grow; it will grow when my wicked woman joins us in this fiery blaze…

[spectres-n-soap]

Soap x reader x Ghost Let's Walk in The Grass

Content Warnings - Angst, grief, unplanned pregnancy, mentions of a pregnant afab body, slow burn, MW3 is canon

"Alright." Price responds. "Light duty until maternity leave." You nod and exit the office once he dismisses you. Closing the door behind you, you gulp down the salvia that had built in your throat. You rest your head against the cool brick for just a moment and steady your shaking hands before you began to walk to your own office. You open the door, your mind too muddled to recognize that it was unlocked.

You turn on the light and jump back when you see Ghost sitting in your chair. The sight might had made you laugh in a different time. A time when Soap was alive to laugh with you at the sight of Ghost dwarfing the desk chair. You clutch at your heart or the part of your shirt that it was under. "You scared me Lieutenant." You mutter and lean against the door after closing it. "Can I help you?"

Ghost pulls a plastic, clear baggie from his pocket that held the three at home pregnancy tests that you had taken in the girls bathroom. He places the baggie onto your desk. You look between him and the tests, disgust washing through you when you realize he had to dig through a trash can to find these. Then horror settles into your gut when you meet his hazel eyes, something angry stirring behind a thin layer of indifference.

"How long?" He asks, voice gruff and grating. Maybe it was his natural voice or from years of smoking and yelling.

"None of your business." You reply sharply, matching his own narrowing eyes with your own. "If thats all." You step aside and motion towards the door.

" 'M not goin' anywhere."

"This is my office." 

"And I'm your superior officer."

You clench your jaw. You know that Ghost was a hard-ass. You had worked with him for easily two years, more if you counted the times before the task force. "Five weeks." You finally concede, "Satisfied?"

"No."

You throw up your hands in exasperation with a huff, "I gave you the answer. What else could you want?"

"The full story." Ghost leans ack in the chair. Your chair.

You can't help the laugh that comes from you; harsh and bitter. "With no respect sir, that's none of your business." It was hard to deny the chemistry that Ghost and Soap had. The banter and subtle shows of affection. Ghost, the bastard, was a smart as much as he was a hard-ass. Had he figured it out? Or had Soap blabbed about that night? You purse your lips at the thought and the silence that filled the office.

That night hadn't happened on base, you had sworn Soap to secrecy. He might had loved to talk but you trusted that he had taken that secret to his grave among many others. Eventually Ghost stands from the chair and leaves. You don't waste a second before locking the door behind him.

You sit at your desk and touch nothing. You stare at the small pile of paperwork, listen to the tick-tock of the clock and close your eyes. You could almost hear the laughter that used to bounce off the walls of this office and flow through the halls.

"Don't say it." You warned, narrowed eyes met Soaps gleaming ones. "One more joke and you're banned from my office."

"As come off it lassie." His scottish accent warmed the room, "Just one more."

"MacTavish." You grumbled and his smile only grew.

"What do ya call a solider who survived mustard gas and pepper spray?" He asked and chuckled when you groaned. "A seasoned veteran."

"I hate you."

"Ye wound me," A devilish smile grew on his face, he had another joke to tell.

You wipe at the tears that run down your face with a shaky breath. You felt like a fool, a fool for not holding onto every moment Soap gave you. You had suspected Soap had gotten those jokes from Ghost but you never asked, simply because you didn't care. Soap was spent time with you, told stupid jokes and you loved him. You glance at the wall to your right. His office had already been cleaned out but the spot he would sit on your desk was still empty.Patiently awaiting something that would never happen again. You still love him.

You couldn't help but think about how Soap would've reacted if he was here now. Once, while the both of you were a couple drinks in, he had told you that he wanted a family. The memory was fuzzy on the details, how the topic had come up wasn't something you remembered. Still, you wondered if he would have jumped for joy at the news.

It must have been a funny sight to see, a member of the task force waddling around base. Thats what you thought to keep your sanity at least. You had to waddle, you lost the ability to see your feet a month ago. Price of course did approve the leave request you had put in. Gaz held you steady as you walked up the steps towards the offices. You couldn't believe today was the last day and then you were off for 52 weeks.

Unprompted, Gaz had stuck by your side since the second trimester. Of course he didn't push your boundaries but he helped you climb stairs and keep the rookies you were training from causing too much trouble. "I'm fucking massive." You mutter, huffing and puffing when you finally arrive at your office door. Gaz gives you a empathic smile because you both knew who waited inside your office. Fucking Ghost. 

Ghost hadn't given up and at this point you knew he knew the truth. That the baby was Soap's, you suspected Ghost just wanted to hear you admit it. You push the door open and stare right into Ghost's hazel eyes. Gaz, smartly, walks away after closing the door. "What?" You snap, too tired and pregnant to deal with Ghost.

"Just say it." His voice overflows with raw grief, the voice of a man who was at the end of his rope. He was begging you. "Please."

"Why do you care so much?" You ask, tone cold as you tilt your chin up. 

"Because its all we have left of him." At least he was right about you only having this piece of Soap. When his office and bunk had been cleaned out, it seemed everyone had gotten something of his. Everyone but you. This baby, this piece of John MacTavish was all you had now. "He drew you." Ghost whispers, pulling you from your building rage. "Pages and pages of sketches of you."

"Ghost-"

"Let me hear it. I'll step in because he can't."

"I don't understand." You mutter and wipe away the tears that had begun to build on your waterline. "You don't need to anything for me."

Ghost shook his head, "This is all we have left of him. I loved him." HIs voice cracks under the weight of his pain, "I want to do right by him. I've had 38 weeks to think about this. 38 weeks of watching this piece of Johnny grow with the knowledge he never knew. And the knowledge that he wouldn't have wanted you and the baby to be alone." Ghost stands up from the chair only to walk over and kneel down, he doesn't touch your belly. He seems to hesitate before grabbing your hand, "Please let me do right by him."

---

Ghost- Simon, whatever he wanted you call him, looks at you with disbelief when he sees your flat building. It was old, not in the best neighborhood but it wasn't like you spend a ton of time at your flat. "No." He states, like it would change reality.

"Yes." You grumble and twist the keys in the ignition of his truck off before getting out, ignoring his protests and cursing. "You said you wanted to help, so you're gonna help but on my own terms." You say as you move just about as fast as your body would let you. You had 11 weeks to set up the spare room in your flat for the baby.

Ghost pulls your duffel bag from the bed of his truck and follows you into the apartment, noting how there was no doorman or security. He also noticed the dirty carpet in the halls, the peeling paint and the water damage. He bit his tongue to keep from saying anything.

You waddle up the stairs to your flat, stopping at the top for a second to catch your breath. You swat away Ghost's hand before walking to your apartment door. You begin with the top deadbolt and work your way down to the doorknob lock. Finally, you open the door to your reasonably sized flat. Despite the state of the outside hallway, the flat was rather nice looking. Which didn't say much. Its paint wasn't peeling at least. Ghost sets the duffel bag onto your table and walks around the flat. Two bedrooms, the couch was clearly not new, perhaps a hand-me-down. Kitchen only had non-perishables inside but was stocked with pots, pans and the other needs for a human.

For an adult human. Not a baby. There was a lot of work to do in these last 11 weeks.

[glorismorningstar]

THE LION CHRONICLES

Pairings: girlfriend!Lute x f!reader, fatherfigure!Alastor x f!reader, Charlie x overprotective!Vaggie + f!bodyguard!reader, situationship!Carmilla Carmine x f!reader

Summary: Charlie is asked to attend a meeting with Heaven, and Vaggie asks Y/N to keep an eye on her. Begrudgingly, she agrees, but not without taking the necessary precautions. A dreaded yet hoped-for encounter occurs, which triggers unforgettable memories.

Warnings: daddy issues, canon-typical violence, Adam being Adam, brief lesbian smut, fluff, angst, grief, sadness, mentions of sex, WLW

A/N: I'm fully aware that the trailer was a major flop, but this story is purely self indulgent and has been in my head for so long that I need to get it out :)

| OPENING // PART 1 // PART 2 |

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

TWENTY-SEVEN YEARS LATER…

“So, what do you think?” Alastor asked as he turned off the TV. He had just shown us the commercial he'd made for the hotel, and while Charlie and Vaggie were off-put and disappointed, I had to hold back a snort of laughter.

“That was hysterical,” I laughed, resting my elbows on top of the backrest of the couch. “May I have a copy of that?”

“Y/N!” Vaggie barked.

“Right, right!” I cleared my throat. While this was one of the most entertaining things I'd seen in a long while - since that dipshit Vox was unable to put on anything good in the seven years that Alastor was gone, or even before that - it wasn't oriented to what we wanted to do for sinners, it did not once mention redemption or our ambition to help souls checking out into Heaven.

“I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?” Vaggie snapped.

“Uh, yeah, one note… Alastor…” Charlie hesitated, trying to find the words to criticize the commercial without aggravating Alastor, whose grin hadn't wasted a beat in growing strained. “I mean, first off, thank you so much for making this, seriously amazing! But, um, maybe the tone is a bit off.”

Alastor, tilting his head a little and furrowing his brows in his own fashion of a glare, was visibly offended, expression betraying his ever-present smile. I had always found his grin curious, ever since the day he and Rosie had rescued me, I wondered about his choice to smile permanently. A smile is a powerful tool, he'd say, it keeps your friends inspired, your enemies guessing, and assures that no matter what happens, you're the one in control.

“We want people to want to come here, but this makes it look… um…” she continued, attempting to word her sentence properly. 

“Bad. The word you're looking for is bad.” Vaggie completed. While Sera had taught me to be polite, her brutal honesty was refreshing. 

“Funny, I was going for hilarious!” Alastor said and tilted his head to the side, neck rolling with a crack.

“Agreed, but comedy isn't the purpose of the ad.” I said with a soft tilt of my head.

“It didn't say anything about how we're trying to save demons from the extermination, which is the whole fucking point.” 

“Vaggie is right, Alastor. The commercial is to let sinners know we are trying to help them.” Said Charlie.

“Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for quite some time and everyone remembers me from my radio show - the proper medium to express oneself,” he said, holding his finger up for emphasis, which made me chuckle, then I laced my fingers together and rested my chin on my conjoined hands. “But you insisted on this noisy picture box advertisement! So I had a little fun with it.”

His inability - and unwillingness - to hide his thinly veiled contempt for modern technology never failed to amuse me. I was among the oldest beings in creation, only younger than very few souls, but I had grown accustomed to television, cinema and social media. His insistence on radio broadcasts and their superiority was quite humorous.

“Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it?” Vaggie said, getting up from her seat. She was about to lose her patience, and I couldn't blame her. This was an important thing, for it to work out, it was vital that it was taken seriously by everyone involved. “This is not what we want to represent us! When you showed up here a week ago, you said you would help run this hotel, instead you're mocking us! No one is gonna come to a place that a powerful Overlord like you thinks is a waste of time.”

As if on cue, a pink gloved hand raised from the couch opposite the fireplace. I sighed and tilted my head to look at him, boredly smushing my cheek against my hand. “What?”

“If'n ya filming a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?” Angel Dust asked, four fingers pointing at himself.

“I don't know if you can, but you most certainly may not.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose in exasperation. His views on sex were the polar opposite of mine. Heavenly standards had always discouraged giving in to such temptations, but that was one among the many ways in which I had rebelled. Nevertheless, for me sex had always been a way to express strong feelings of affection rather than just a simple exchange of bodily fluids. When I lived in Heaven, Lute and I had always made love with the purpose of worshiping and pleasuring each other, while Angel did so simply for the sake of reaching the climax, which I found immature and foolish.

“Angel, you're a porn star.” Vaggie pointed out with visible dismissal of his idea.

“A famous porn star!” He corrected. “I'll have the horniest sinners knocking these walls down to get in.”

“We're not filming a porn as a commercial.” Vaggie spoke, as if it wasn't obvious enough to the effeminate man.

“Why not?”

“Where do I begin? It's disgusting, it's unrealistic, it's immoral, and it makes little to no sense, among other things.” I listed out, counting each point on my fingers while I gazed at him with a grimace.

“No sense? Sex sells, don't it?” He said, rubbing his fingertips together. “I swear, if you film me going at it with Mr. Fancy Talk Creepy Voice here, you'd be rolling in participants willing to stay at this tacky hotel.”

The simple thought made me gag. Alastor's asexuality was to be respected, for his sake and for my own peace of mind. “Ha, ha! Never going to happen!”

“Angel, I appreciate you wanting to use your… special skills to, um… attract folks to the hotel, but I really don't want to exploit you! In that way.” Charlie winced, giving a polite but awkward smile to dismiss such a notion.

“Oh, please, baby, this body was made to be exploited,” he drawled and puffed his chest, making poses to highlight his sexual desirability. “I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs, I got the lung capacity, ha, ha, I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes, the chest fluff the everyone thinks are tits-” 

His narcissistic rambling was interrupted by Charlie's ringtone, which made me breathe a sigh of relief and stop tugging on my ears. As she excused herself to take the phone call, I zoned out for a minute, tail curling around my hip as the fluffy tip twitched idly. I heard her say “dad”, which drew a soft smile from me. If only Lucifer had been there to support my rebellion then, maybe things might have been a little different. I hadn't seen him in ages. We used to get along fairly well, and when I needed secret meetings to try to make peace, he was my main contact. Despite our strong friendship, I knew he'd recognize me immediately if he saw me again, so I refrained from reaching out. 

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard Husk once again rejecting Angel's flirting. It really was annoying. 

Husk and I had met through Alastor, as the poor guy was owned by the Overlord. We had more in common than I'd thought, including our feline traits, both physical and characteristic, and a mutual annoyance with Angel Dust. I felt bad for how Alastor treated him, I always believed it was unfair, but his rage was one of the most chilling, terrifying things one could ever witness, and I wasn't stupid enough to allow myself to be the object of his frustrations. It was already a miracle he was the closest thing to a father I'd ever have. 

“Vaggie! Holy shit!”

“Pah!” I yelped, ears pulling back as Charlie's outburst startled me.

“Ah! What?”

“Get over here!”

Their cute relationship made a fond chuckle fall from my lips, watching with a small smile as Vaggie walked over behind the wall to talk to Charlie.

When I heard her mention a meeting with the leader of the exorcist army, my stomach dropped to my knees. Adam.

He was almost my brother-in-law, brought into my social circle by Lute. I didn't admire him like he liked to think everyone did, but I did respect him, for Lute's sake. It was important to her that I got along with her best friend, and I couldn't deny her such a thing. 

♪ I can do this, somehow I know it

I'll get Heaven behind my plans

♪ Charlie, hold on

I could hear Charlie singing. She did always have a thing for singing songs at random times, a habit that straddled the line between endearing and entertaining, and annoying and irritating.

♪ There's just no way I could blow this

Not this once in a lifetime chance

♪It's just a meeting

Ah, yes, just a meeting, I thought with a sigh. The poor girl was about to go to her first meeting with Adam of all people. It was like taking her driver's test in a bus.

♪ To change their minds, to touch their hearts

Or whatever angels have

I frowned a little at the prejudice. Angels do so have hearts. It was the hypocrisy that bugged me.

♪ This could be bad...

♪ Cheer up, Vaggie

This could be swell

Something tells me that today is gonna be a happy day in Hell

♪ Okay, but just don't sing to them

Ah, the famous last words. Charlie was already out the door before Vaggie could even finish the sentence, strutting around through Hell as if it were the land of cupcakes and rainbows.

♪ That bitch is halfway down the street

♪ Is she-?

♪ Oh, she's dancing

♪ Ugh, no!

I sighed and leaned against the door frame, tail curling as I watched the princess walking down the street. “Y/N, you should accompany her to the meeting. Say you're the bodyguard or something.”

“Ha, ha, yeah, right.” I laughed with pure sarcasm. The simple idea of being in the same room as someone with divine ordainment after almost three decades made my head spin with anxiety.

“Fine, then at least keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't run into some weirdass on the way.” Vaggie proposed. While it bordered on stalking, it was true that Charlie could be a bit too carefree, and it was the least I could do to help.

“Fine.” I groaned, pulling on the hood of my cloak, and followed her path down the street, dodging disgusting views and unpleasant sinners on the way. The fact that I'd be hearing Adam's voice after this long was nerve-wracking, to say the least. I wouldn't be speaking to him, obviously, if it were so I would have outright fainted, but being in a one mile radius of any personality from the right side of the pearly gates made my lungs constrict.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As I stood in front of the tall golden tower of Heaven's embassy, a flurry of edgy butterflies swarmed in my stomach. I inhaled deeply through my nose and slowly exhaled through my mouth, then hurried inside after Charlie before the door could close, slipping in the shadows to keep her from seeing me.

When she signed the paper and entered the meeting room, I finally relaxed and laid on one of the couches in the deserted lobby, pulling my hood down and sighing as I stared at the ceiling. I could hear Adam's boisterous laugh, muffled by the walls, and my stomach did a backflip. I buried my face in my hands and took a few deep breaths, trying to get my shit together.

“You think I'd come down there? No, I mean, I love the vibe. Totally, love your tunes. Pretty fuckin’ hardcore, don't get me wrong, but it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there is so bleugh, heh… ew.” His shenanigans never failed to make me roll my eyes. I never once agreed with him on anything, barely even on the smallest of dilemmas, like which milkshake flavor was the best. But there was an unspoken agreement between us to put up with each other's shit, motivated by our closeness with Lute.

My gaze then flickered around the room, which hadn't changed in twenty-seven years. I could remember when I'd first been here to meet with Lucifer in secret to attempt to stop the exterminations. It all felt like it was eons ago, when in reality it hadn't even been half a century, a microscopic fraction to my long life as a Seraphim. 

“Adam, sir… Mr. Adam, sir-”

“Call me Dickmaster.”

A ghost of a laugh fell from my lips at the nickname. It had been so long since I'd heard him and his narcissistic ramblings about his sexual prowess. Word in Heaven and outside was that he was just as good as he purported, which I didn't find too hard to believe, as he was neither an unattractive nor an inexperienced man.

“It's the solution to our biggest problem!”

“Herpes! Yeah, that's a bitch.”

“No, our other biggest problem!”

“Oh, um… ugly people? Math? Global warming! No, wait, that's Earth's problem. When you take her out for the fifth time and she still expects you to pay the check, and you're like, hey, I thought you wanted equality!”

“No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell.”

“Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We've got that covered! Lute, how many demons-”

Lute?

Lute was here?

I scrambled to the door and pressed my ear up against it, listening for any sign of her, her voice, her footsteps, her auditory mannerisms. Anything.

“Got a good 275 this year, sir.”

I rested my hand against the door and sniffed, breathing out a shaky, broken sigh as I slumped into a ball on the floor, leaning my ear against the cold surface. Hearing the ethereal sound of her voice after three decades felt like reaching an oasis after having wandered the desert, a ray of sunlight in a dark tunnel. My eyes flooded with tears as I let out silent sobs, covering my mouth with my hand as I kept listening for her voice, in desperate need of getting whatever glimpse of her I could.

I wondered what she thought of me now, so long after I disappeared with no trace. I could barely even imagine the pain she must have gone through - or was still going through - if she thought I was dead… or worse, if she thought I abandoned her. If she thought I didn't love her and Emily and Sera anymore, and decided I'd live a better life elsewhere. The thought of her hating me made me choke a sob, the hearing range too short for the emotions I wanted to show.

For fuck's sake, she was the love of my life. Why the fuck didn't I go in as the bodyguard? What was going through my head when Charlie said she'd be meeting Adam? You can't have Adam without Lute, how stupid could I have been to not think of that? I missed her face so much… her golden, intelligent eyes, her pretty little nose, her mischievous smirk, her thick, fluttering eyelashes… God, how I loved her face…

“They're not the same. They had their chance, and they earned damnation.”

I didn't even care what she was saying right now, I just needed to hear her.

“...but everyone makes mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes.”

“You really think that?”

“I know that.”

I'd heard that before.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

With a last harsh suck to her clit, her thighs clamped around my head and she cried out my name, squirming and mewling as my face remained buried in the paradise between her legs. I lifted my head to meet her eyes and licked my lips clean of her sweet juices while her hand lingered on my hair, grip on my locks loosening as her chest heaved with the exertion. Giving her an affectionate smile, I shifted to get up and grab something to clean her, but she stopped me before I could do so. “Stay.”

I smiled at her and leaned my head on her thigh, planting the occasional kiss on her soft skin. “I love the way you taste.”

“You say that every time you go down on me.” She giggled, carding her fingers through my hair.

“And I'll keep saying it over and over, my love.” I smiled, resting my forehead on the soft flesh of her thigh and closing my eyes. 

I heard her let out a quiet chuckle as her hand kept stroking my hair, head falling back against her pillow as she slowly regained her breath. Everything about her mesmerized me. Being with Lute felt more right than being with any man in this universe. The way she tasted, the way she smelled, the way she looked, the noises she made, they all made me fall in love with her more with each encounter. My thoughts wandered to her military training and the extermination. Even putting aside the betrayal of Sera making such a decision, with the way Lute spoke about enrolling in the army, I'd never have peace of mind. Heaven was a lie, indeed. I wanted to stop it so badly, to protect Emily from such knowledge, to find a solution different from violence, to take some weight off Sera's shoulders, to save Lute's life.

I shook such thoughts out of my head and crawled up to lie flat on top of her, giving her a tender kiss on the lips and resting my forehead on hers. She wrapped her legs around my waist, locking her ankles on my lower back, and said, “What's with the frown, princess?”

I sighed and looked at the helmet on her nightstand, then back into her eyes. “Do you think it's possible to make peace with Hell?”

“What?” She asked with something between a scoff and a laugh. “Of course not. They had their chance to be good, and look at what they did instead.”

“And that was a mistake,” I conceded, tenderly brushing the hair out of her eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was make this boil over into an argument, so I kept my tone soft and gentle. “But there's no one that doesn't make mistakes.”

“Angels don't make mistakes, love.” She replied.

“Strongly disagree.” I sighed, looking to the side again with a small frown. To name a few, Sera chose to approve the extermination and put Adam, of all people, in charge. It was true that he was sort of an in-law to me, and the best that could be said of our relationship was that we had mutual respect, but he was self-absorbed, reckless and obnoxious, a testosterone-fueled wind-up soldier that marched wherever his sex-clouded brain told him to. And to think that poor Emily still believed she lived in this perfect, unbiased realm of bliss. 

“Hey,” Lute cooed, taking my chin in between her fingertips and tipping it to meet her eyes. “What Sera did was for your own good. She just wants to protect you, and so do I.” 

She then grabbed my cheeks and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. The gesture made me smile a bit. I knew she wanted my wellbeing, but if only there was a way to do so that wasn't so violent…

“Come on, no more pouting,” she said, nuzzling our noses together. “What do you say we cuddle a bit and tomorrow we go out for ice cream?”

“Hmm… sounds fun. Thank you.” I mumbled and trailed a few soft kisses across her shoulder, then rested my head on her chest and closed my eyes, reveling in her presence.

My gaze once again fell on her exorcist's helmet. Those rotten black horns, striped with white and curled at the tips, the × over the right eye and that ragged smile… I loathed everything about it. The fear of losing her to this was too big. I'd do whatever it took to spare her and my family from this barbarity.

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

The moment Adam opened the door, the color dissipated from my skin.

He was holding Charlie by the wrist - thankfully she had her back to me - and beside him was Lute.

Lute, in that familiar gray uniform and that horrible mask. 

Her eyes met mine for a split second and I felt the wind being knocked out of me when she squinted and her body language shifted ever so slightly, which made me gasp and pull my hood back on, ears pulling back in fear and tail taking cover between my legs, and in the time she simply blinked, I ran away on all fours as fast as my legs could carry me, not stopping until I reached the hotel. My legs felt like they could crumble any second, my lungs screaming for breath and my throat begging for water, but I wouldn't stop until I was far away from the embassy. 

˚₊‧ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

As night befell the Pentagram, I laid on my bed and stared out the window in deep thought about the day's events. I opened the drawer in my nightstand and grabbed a picture, gazing at it fondly. It was me and Lute on date night, slow dancing to some cheesy love song we liked. I had an arm around her while my free hand held hers as she looked at me with heart-shaped eyes.

I wondered if she'd still look at me that way now, if she didn't hate me for disappearing without a message or note or any information on where I'd gone beforehand. A part of me didn't want to know the answer.

My phone dinged with a new notification, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Fuck.”

Hey corazón <3

21:14

You coming over tonight? 

21:14

Shit, Carmilla. When my brain registered Lute's presence earlier today, everyone else was dead to me. Thankfully, I was grounded back to reality when I got back to the hotel, but I couldn't just ditch Carmilla for a person I may or may not see ever again. Then again, I couldn't abandon Lute, the woman I loved with all my heart and soul for years on end, for a mere carnal relationship. 

I sighed and texted back my response,

Sorry babe, I'm not in the mood tonight :(

21:17

Good night

21:18

[callmecrazy4u2]

Yandere! HSR & Genshin Guys x Fan! Reader: Wriothesely, Zhongli, Jing Yuan 'Bird' reader

When you are in love different sides of love show…but when you stop being lovestruck and give up how far will the guys go to get it back and make you theirs again….

Flirty! Reader x Yandere!Wriothesley- Bird & Dog- Humor smut fluff some yandere. Trying to Rizz up Wrio goes Wrong or right? 

Anxious Artist Readera! x Art Critic!Yandere! Zhongli- Coworkers-Bird & Snake- A Portrait of Morax: Phoenix & Dragon - workplace romance, courting, crush, yandere, manipulation

Shy! Baker- Bird & Lion- Jing Yuan - fav customer, manipulation, first crushes, fluff smut

Flirty! Reader x Yandere!Wriothesley: Trying to Rizz up Wrio goes Wrong or right? 

Synopisis: A flirty prisoner trades slang with the guard and prisoners secretly teasing the Wriothesly the prison warden. As they have a crush but too shy to act on so resort to flirting badly as a joke. However Wriothesley does get the slang one day and reader is sure to pay…..

Hey warden where you at? With those Muffins….

“Wriothesly why not Wrio slay bae ~”

Yo got he got the whole bakery 

“Buns in the back do slap"

“Oh a Joke show me then what you mean? Or am I not the dog of meriopoide or is it you?”- Wriothesly

Flirty! Reader x Yandere!Wriothesley

Trying to Rizz up Wrio goes Wrong or right? 

Synopisis: A flirty prisoner trades slang with the guard and prisoners secretly teasing the Wriothesly the prison warden. As they have a crush but too shy to act on so resort to flirting badly as a joke. However Wriothesley does get the slang one day and reader is sure to pay…..

Hey warden where you at? With those Muffins….

“Wriothesly why not Wrio slay bae ~”

Yo got he got the whole bakery 

“Buns in the back do slap” cleverly offered Reader delivering a tongue twister and a euphemism all in one. 

The laughter fell to quiet among the frozen fellow prisoners. A shadow hovering above readers head. Literally as the  shadow of the very person they were teasing was behind them

“Ahem and what are we doing here? Tapping a foot Wriothesly the prison warden questioned them with hands crossed looking intimidating though normally laid back…

“Making fun of your superior you do know I’m the warden right?” He continued with knit brows. 

“Um All in good fun my lord duke warden wriothesly” you stuttered. 

“I don’t mind some jokes I can take them but what do you mean by buns”

The rest had scattered cowards. 

“Um “ You might die from embarrassment 

“N-nothing sir”

“I guess this calls for interrogation then until you spit it out” he said Wriothesley  spinning his cuffs and clapping them on you to drag you off. 

Wriothesly blue eyes flash with hint of teeth predatorily looming over you in secluded hallway tp the staircase to the interrogation room you guessed. 

“This is  an abuse authority!” you protested stumbling behind him in the prison corridors 

“One last chance tell me me or…” he trailed off menacingly 

 Wriothesly pressed up against you in the corridor hallway. Unable to escape your were restrained cuffed to him and pressed up against the cold  wall. You were warmed only by his body heat. 

“They were all compliments”  you blurted out face burning eye squeezed shut in fear. 

Wriothesly was generally was tolerant with prisoners given the welfare meals and boxing games he’d play. Perhaps teasing him was too far and felt like he lost respect 

“Good job”  he pats your head with smile as you sink in relief but are pulled into the room to your dismay squeezing eye shut in fear.

“Now tell me the rest” Wriothesly’s hand guides you unwilling to what you thought was the interrogation room but instead his plush office. 

You blink in surprise and shock as he proffers a teacup to you 

“Sooo who stopping me from having someone over for tea? Wriothesly cocked his head a sly teasing smile he wasn’t serious was he?

He just wanted in on the gossip and for you to spill the tea. 

“No one— er you  that is you ….assets” you gulp  truth spilling out voice small with his feirce interested star like a dog wanting treats.

Wriothesly cocked his head like dog pricking up it’s ears amused to see you stumble to reiterate it as politely as possible 

He approached with a tired sigh. A hand cupping  around your to force you to look at him as he leaned in close enough to kiss to your mortified thoughts

“Oh do continue “ Wrio said going lower teasing as you realized he knew all along he was just teasing you!

Wrio held your arm up to his arm up to his own sitting beside you on the couch. Knees and arms touching as you were cuffed still by one arm. 

The warmth of his breath and his chest pressing to your back as you blushed. 

“This is what you wished right?” Wrio inquires as you Shake in anticipation fear as desire burns with humiliation. 

“Err it was joke “ you stammer embarrassed  and breathing heavily in shock unsure what would happen next or if you would want it or not.

Wrio grabbed gently but firmly and pushed you to fall face forward on his office couch “Time for interrogation then” he amusedly said as you sprawled hand and knees on the couch. 

“ Well,then play around with me a bit more hmmm?” A curious head tilt like a dog the eager blue of his eyes cutting into you. As Wrio pulled you up by the chin to look at him 

“Entertain me” Wrio hums assessing your eyes for lies. You crane your head  to look at him from where he  towering above you prepared to do god knows what what. Something Good or bad? 

“Show me what you want”  he says tipping your chin with boot as you like lip nervously to mirror you in anticipation.

“Or am I not the dog of meriopoide or is it you?”  Yandere Wrio mocked .

000 Cut where out should be smut lol 0000

So dive in …. And eat that bakery hun…. Lol 

Wrio Smut in a previous post for those thirsty for more~

Or 

you hesistate from there Wrios stops hand up

 “haha Just A Joke….just don’t let me hear other calling me that again” with a laugh and ruffle of you hair from you kneeling stepping away returning to his jokester self. 

“But nothing, about you doing it~” he says with a wink as you gape. 

Artist! X Yandere! Admirer! Zhongli : The Bird & The Snake

 If art was priceless 

What about the artist?- Zhongli/Morax/Rex Lapis 

Synopsis: A starving artist takes a job at the funeral parlor and finds inspiration for their first portrait, the god Morax when seeing their muse as funeral consultant coworker Zhongli.  

Unbeknownst, to Artist Reader, their coworker is the geo lord himself in disguise. Zhongli notices their art in an auction mostly landscapes of Liyue which he buy up and eventually finds the Morax portrait. 

The artist!reader rises to fame so tries to quit job at funeral parlor to pursue art, but Rex Lapis won’t let them break the contract so easily…..after finding out they are the artist they adore.

As for a contract….How about we make another one, dear artist?

You may look and draw as much you want dear. 

As long, as your eyes are mine alone- Rex Lapis 

Artist! Reader POV x Zhongli

The doodles in your planner and sketches of his figures hurriedly hidden before you knew it. His beauty undeniable in the dying light. 

Zhongli was well known as an art critic and while you’d love to receive a favorable opinion. 

A bad one would crush you and any hopes and dreams of being an artist. 

Zhongli was such a perfectionist you didn’t dare show him any of your art for fear of it being rejected. 

Especially, of the ones you did of him idly in your planner when you were enamored by his beauty….

You couldn’t even draw him properly. You were too embarrassed and as a person you needed his permission to draw him….but….Morax a god based on the statues was fair game not like you would ever meet him….

It just happened to be your artistic decision that he looked a little like your coworker….after all not that you ever same though uncanny similar build or so you fantasized. 

Not like you could see underneath his — you shook your head bit let fantasy run wild with a portrait of Morax instead

Still uncanny, they looked alike or was that just your silly crush?

Zhongli POV

—— 

A diligent worker but shy. Hu Tao’s antic salways seems to run off most employees. However, you were kind, calm and didn’t seem bothered by the director’s eccentricities. 

Solid as rock

Perhaps that was drew him to you. That and your graceful delicate movements rearranging papers or sketching out coffin ideas. 

Zhongli appreciated your refined sense of style and tasteful choices in decor.

Zhongli enjoyed the endless art discussions over lunch breaks that you seem to appreciate when others dropped off halfway through his monologuing. 

—

Zhongli was an admirer of your landscapes of Liyue. The mundane made beautiful through few precise strokes. 

Zhongli swelling with pride at what Liyue had become as encapsulated in the eyes of an artist and made into reality. 

Zhongli was connoisseur and a collecter. So he of course bought all your artwork no matter the cost. A bidding war began and well those he could not acquire he found a way he was a god after all…

 If art was priceless 

What about the artist?

-----

“Why don’t you just kiss already” Hu Tao broke in to her glee and exasperation at your slow romance. A realization that broke Zhongli's resolve and shoes light that you were the artist he admired and one he liked.

After careful contemplation, Zhongli realizes he likes you and is just as stubborn as a rock when he resolves to court you. 

However the traditions Zhongli uses for dating are so ritualistic old and esoteric that you do not realize that is what he is doing but appreciate the gestures….

The frequent lunches and dinners to talk about work that are dates in disguise…

Zhongli gifting a knotted red charm with jade for luck in marriage. 

Zhongli insisting they exchanging a Phoenix hairpin exchange for a dragon handkerchief present around New Years. 

----

Zhongli finds ithe protight of moraz after you decide to sell the morax painting after consideration the buyer is willing pay alot . ENough you coudl retire and continue painting and pursue yoru but unease teh loss of painting what liklihood hoo perosn based off it would find it?

You owe this mystery buyer and art critic alot too as your painting have gain fame and critical acclaim due to thier eye.

so you trun in you resignation.

"You cannot go" Zhongli Firmly said.

"You see me, as I truly am after all , you can accept all may flaws and facets. And see the true me behind the disguise" he hummed mysteriously as Zhongli revealed the morax painting you drew

"wh-where did you get that?" you gasped embarrassed.

"Would you consider a new contract perhaps?" . Now looking at him stunned and frightened with new eyes. Zhongli your coworker and funeral consultant who you crushed on was Morax, the god of contract and you had just broken one....

He continued taking you chin carefully with his fingertip to stare with serpentine golden eyes.

A Phoenix in dragons trap more like a bird in snakes nest the coils constricting tighter slowly without notice until asphyxiated.

As for a contract….How about we make another one, dear artist?

You may look and draw as much you want dear. 

As long, as your eyes are mine alone- Rex Lapis 

. 

Yandere! Zhongli POV x Artist! Reader: The bird & the Lion

Admirer! Baker! Reader x Yandere Jing Yuan

Cat & Bird Bakery

How sweet you are and the sweets you bake

It always warms my heart, Can I have taste?

You offered first after all. - Jing Yuan 

Synopsis: Yandere!Jingyuan a weathered war hero, finds respite in a quiet teashop where the baker is a fan of his and treats him on the house. He continued likening the baker to a shy bird flitting about tables to help as a people pleaser.

Jing Yuan POV

Jing Yuan is amused at how clumsy she gets with him around. His beauty distracted her to stare at him from the corner of her eye with an evident crush. He continues visiting the teahouse to ease her to his presence. Until one day he falls asleep past closing time….Reader gets a blanket but he’s awake and has been watching her the entire time….feigning tiredness to stay after hours…

“No need for that my dear I’m awake. I’ve been watching you the whole time” 

Jing Yuan, yawns a flash of lion's teeth and golden eye. Now a hungry lion fixed on the helpless bird...

“I’m tired from work today and home is far away….”

Jing Yuan, lazily slowly meaningfully catching your hand to his and pressing it to his cheek nuzzling it so you cannot escape. 

“Um  you should get some rest its err past closing time” awkward fumbling emabrrassed being so close and handling your hand. 

Jing Yuan blinked, slowly, lazily his hungry golden gaze freezing you in place and silencing your complaints before melting into a fervent pleading soft stare. 

“Do you have somewhere I could take a nap?”

There was no way you would refuse him right? 

Not the hero, the general of the loufu….

 The prey he had been eyeing all along. 

Slowly but surely he’d consume you in your entirety. 

His little bird. 

--

The Bird & The Dog lol more crack pair funny now relief

Concept idea

Because while reader is an obsessed fan have you ever heard never meet your heros? Fantasy is much different from reality….and in reality no one wants a yandere….

The stalker becomes the stalked sorta situation get what coming for em lol by time reader gets over the crush the crush reciprocates too late… 

this become softer more recipircl than i thought but slight possievive obseeseive yandere love tinge if not mutual

[stellarbit]

Devotee

Word Count: 3.8k Pairing: Crosshair x fem!Imperial Warnings: NSFW smut with little plot, piv, creampie, oral Summary: You joined the imperial army because of CF 99. They trained you as a freedom fighter and you hadn't stopped thinking of Crosshair since. He'd yet to come across someone who looked at him like you did, and he wants more

Crosshair never substantially interacted with civilians before the Empire. In just one week, he transitioned from dealing with those outside his squad on a need-to-know basis, to leading and training not just regular clones, but also regular people.

It was dismal work that, to him, proved nothing more than his superiority over the majority. Still, there were those who looked down on him for being a clone. Not that it mattered. They were of no significance to Crosshair, it only showed their lack of vision and poor taste.

However, when you came under his command, the opinion of another became of some interest to him.

As a new recruit in a promising class of soldiers, you were part of the elite he was tasked to train between assignments. Among your cohorts, you stood the straightest—rigid as a board, chin raised, eyes fixed forward. It caught Crosshair’s attention in the wrong way.

Walking the lines of you, he stopped in front of you and turned his hawkish gaze on you. Under the weight of his stare, your eyes wavered from their focus.

 In a low, annoyed tone, he challenged, "Something on your mind?"

You hastily shook your head, sealing your lips tightly to maintain composure.

Crosshair took your silence as insubordination. His voice sharpened, "You answer when spoken to by a superior officer."

You responded promptly this time, "No."

“No…?” Crosshair pressed, dragging the etiquette out of you.

You swallowed, willing yourself to relax and offered him a subtle smile. "No, sir."

Crosshair turned to face you fully, his expression tightened with displeasure. He heard attitude in your voice and with it the opportunity to let off some steam.

“Congratulations. You earned yourself an extra hour of training today.” His crisp tone fixed your posture, forcing your eyes forward again.

With a sharp nod, and a dry mouth, you squared your shoulders. “Yes, sir.” He made an annoyed noise and walked on. You’d spent too long planning your first interaction with him for it to have gone that poorly. The worst of it was that you didn’t even know how it managed to go that poorly.

Despite that, it was your first training session under Crosshair’s leadership and you were going to make the best of it. The exercises were more intense than you’d experienced since the Clone Wars. But you had experienced it before.

By the session's end, you still had enough energy to spare. Training to be the best and serving with the best was your ultimate goal. Disappointing Crosshair on your first day was not an option.

The other soldiers filed out, some muttering snide comments. Your instinct was to grab them by their hair but you stood determined to impress. Keeping your composure was crucial; losing it would only show weakness.Once the doors closed and you were left alone with Crosshair, all you could think to do was stand at attention, silently waiting his next command.

Crosshair took slow deliberate steps towards you. He’d been planning this all morning. Using you as a punching bag was going to serve two purposes. keeping the others in line and venting the rage that was consuming him—not just the condescension from the regs but also his fresh frustration with his brothers.

He halted a few paces away, his voice icy. "Anything to say, or is speaking to a clone beneath you?"

Your composure instantly vanished, head whipping to face him. “Absolutely not!” You protested.

"No?" Crosshair began to circle you like a predator assessing its prey. "Then you’re insubordinate." Having once embodied insubordination himself, he recognized it well and had no tolerance for it.

"Insubordinate?" you repeated, shocked. Your mouth opened and closed, searching for the right words. "Sir," you scoffed, tracking his movements, "I think you’re misunderstanding."

A cruel smile flickered across his lips, his eyes challenging you to further provoke him. He paused while still in front of you, taking two long, intimidating steps closer. "Are you questioning me?"

The severity of the situation was beginning to dawn on you. In a sudden panic, you turned towards him, your hands raised in a gesture of surrender. Your words tumbled out in a rush, "No, no! I'm not trying to— I mean, I didn’t mean to—" As his smile twisted into a snarl, you blurted out, driven by desperation, "I'm here because of you.."

Once the words were out, you wondered why you had been so fearful of expressing them in the first place. There was a pride swelling in your chest at the admission, genuine satisfaction in declaring it aloud. His expression didn’t change, but he fell silent,  waiting for you to continue.

You slowly lowered your hands, clearing your throat before adding, "Your squad helped retake my city from the Separatists. I was among the freedom fighters you aided." As you spoke, you watched his features soften, the simmering rage cooling into something more reflective. "I enlisted because of you and your squad. I want to help people the way you helped us. There were rumors about clones leading the best of us and here I am.

"In the Mid Rim?" His voice was a low murmur, recognition flickering in his eyes. You nodded, a spark of hope lighting up your face as he pieced the memory together.

Crosshair scrutinized you, shifting his stance slightly. Your eyes were wide, not with fear or challenge, but with something he hadn't expected—admiration. The smile on your lips wasn't mockery but genuine, warm respect.

You fidgeted under his gaze; it wasn’t a seething stare-down but a thorough inspection. The sensation of his eyes on you ignited a warmth in your stomach that quickly spread throughout your body. His focus intensified, sending heat creeping up your neck and flushing your cheeks.

With muscle memory, Crosshair plucked a toothpick from a compartment on his forearm, stepping closer as he placed it between his teeth. His expression, previously tight with anger, now relaxed into a scoff. "You came here because of me?" he asked incredulously.

“Yes.”

Crosshair rolled his head to one side, pulling out the toothpick to point at you. “You were an archer.”

A giddy flutter ran through you. “I was.” You didn’t think he would remember you. “Actually you showed me-”

"How to ricochet a shot," he finished for you. He all but forgot that mission—it had been a relatively straightforward one for Clone Force 99—but he did recall your group. Your enthusiasm back then had been noticeable.

Your squirming and the flush of your cheeks didn’t escape him.

“Well then,” Crosshair drawled, stepping away and easing the pressure off of you. When you visibly relaxed, he continued, “Then let’s see how good of a student you turned out to be.”

When the extra hour was up, you’d barely broken a sweat and your shooting accuracy rounded out to crisp 93%, Crosshair had to admit - he was impressed.

While you wracked up your training blaster, Crosshair felt something more than being impressed. He toggled through what it could be, almost settling on approval, until you faced him again.

You were smiling at him and whatever it was it didn’t matter anymore. He just wanted more of it.

From that point on, whenever his duties allowed, you had the privilege of receiving Crosshair's exclusive tutelage. He had intended to make your training a form of punishment, and perhaps to others it might have felt that way. But you clung to his every command, turning it into something different for both of you. It turned out there was more than one way to let off steam because Crosshair always felt lighter after your sessions.

At some point he even found himself looking for you in hallways. When the day came that he spotted you and you kept your attention forward, with not a glance his way, his approval soured to annoyance.

Over dinner, he thought about what that meant for your next training session. He was barely a bite into his solitary meal when a tray clattered down in front of him. Mid-bite he glanced over his fork to find you out of uniform and, again, smiling at him.

Swallowing his bite, Crosshair sat his utensil down to ask, “Why are you here?” His tone was more cautious than curious.

You settled into your seat and lightly shrugged, “I saw you headed this way and I’ve been trying to catch you alone.” You gave him a wink, adding, “Trust me, I see you more than you see me.”

Crosshair studied you for a moment, his sharp gaze softening slightly. “Is that so?” he asked, half-joking yet intrigued by your boldness

.Your eyebrows bounced as you quickly replied, “I followed you into the military. You don’t think I’d follow you to the cantine?”

There it was again—your unabashed admiration for him. That unfamiliar, stirring feeling returned, churning something inside him. Crosshair was momentarily taken aback, reveling in the pleasure of this new sensation.

You hummed at him, snapping him back to reality. He blinked, then chuckled—a rare sound from him. “How shameless,” he remarked.

Laughing as you took a bite, you managed to say, “Coming from you?” Setting your utensil down you leaned forward. “I’ve seen you in battle, you pose when you shoot and you and I both know it.”

He stopped mid-bite, slowly lowering the fork with a little smirk. Crosshair forgot what it felt like to banter or be lighthearted. It spurred that feeling inside him.

“If that’s where your focus was in battle, no wonder the mission took so long.” He said in a teasing tone.

Pressing a hand against your chest you laughed innocently, “I was just watching your back.” No matter how you tried, you couldn’t tuck your smile away.

The Clone Wars had been grueling. Imperial boot camp less so, but still a challenge in conformity. You did it all for the chance to be trained again by Clone Force 99. To do for the Galaxy what they’d done for you. Even one session would have made it all worth it. This unfettered attention was beyond what you imagined.w1

“What is your schedule after this?” Crosshair’s question brought you back to focus.

You shrugged, frowning in thought, “Just headed back to my barracks.” You couldn’t resist pushing him. Daring a flirtatious tone you asked,“Why? Trying to catch me alone?”

Crosshair stood, tilting his head back with a lazy smile. “Something like that.” The low tone of his voice sent a chill down your spine. 

“Let’s go.” He said as he waved you on and he left the table.

“Go where?”

“My barracks.” Crosshair said just loud enough for others to hear.

You didn’t hesitate to abandon your tray, nearly tripping to get around the table and catch up.

As you walked, Crosshair found himself discussing small, inconsequential details of training schedules and mission outlines - things that, without his brothers, he’d keep to himself..

"You're different from the rest," Crosshair finally admitted, his voice low as if confessing a secret.

You met his gaze, your expression serious. “I’ll take that as a compliment, because so are you.," you responded earnestly. ”So thank you.”

You could’ve swore you saw his step falter, but regardless in a few more steps you made it to his barracks.

Crosshair let you cross the threshold first, giving him the chance to watch you peruse his space. The room was devoid of life, his new cohorts adhering to strict barracks regulations. Your buzzing about brought a warmth to the space. 

After circling the room, clearly in awe of being in the barracks of the men you so admired, you paused at a rectangular table in the center. Running your finger along its edge, you seemed lost in thoughts of what it must have been like when the entire squad was together. The placement of a rifle nearby hinted at which bunk was his.

Leaning back against the table, you took a deep, satisfied breath. This moment, here in this space, might have been the happiest you’d ever felt. Resting on one hand, you turned to face Crosshair, your expression radiantly beaming.

You were by no means a soft person, if anything he would mark you as fierce. Strong, resilient, and fierce.

And, perhaps his favorite, loyal.

In a few slow strides, Crosshair met you at the table just as you perched yourself on top of it. He scoured your face, and while he wouldn’t call you soft it’s exactly what you made him feel. The feeling inside him grew feverish for more of you.

Crosshair leaned into your space, hands gripping the table on either side of your legs. He couldn’t get enough of the way you looked at him. Admiration, adoration, and Crosshair knew there was attraction. The longer he watched you heat through him and he started pressing his pants.

“Are you enjoying training?” To anyone else he may have sounded imposing, but you saw beyond that. He was teasing you and pinning you with his full attention. The last and only time he’d been this close to you he’d been wrapping his arms around you to show you proper shooting form. And just like the last time, the very scent of him made your core ache.

“Yes.” Your smile squirmed, refusing to go away. You gave them to him so often and freely and still Crosshair wanted more.

He lost all tolerance for the space between you and slipped his right hand down the length of your thigh until he angled it out of his way. “Then I must not be doing a good job.”

The sudden advance took your breath away, but quickly and hushed, you responded, “That’s not true. There’s no one better than you.” Your eagerness got the better of you as you hung a hand on his bicep. A few stars came to your eyes as you added, “You’re exactly what I thought you’d be.”

“And what’s that?” He tilted his head, eyes falling to your lips for only a second.

“The best of us.” You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His eyes flared with a sharp inhale. When had anyone looked at him like you were? You were so devoted to him and, beyond that, he suspected you were desperate for him. In one motion he slid his fingers under your thighs, wedged himself between your legs, and pulled you against him. A small noise left you and Crosshair purred, “Am I now?”

Steadying yourself with a grip on his shoulder, you managed a little scoff,  “Oh, don’t act like you don’t know that.”

Crosshair raised an eyebrow with a small smile, “Tell me anyways.”

For awhile you thought you’d been deluding yourself that Crosshair at least found you attractive. Now that you had concrete proof, you felt frantic for him. 

“You’re-” you started, interrupted as he stepped even closer. Crosshair pulled one leg to wrap around him, encouraging you as you continued on a gasp, “The epitome of precision and skill” 

Crosshair’s hips rolled into you on their own, suddenly very fervid to show you what you did to him.

Feeling him rock hard against you, you cursed under your breath. Slowly, you slid a leg to hook behind him. “Crosshair.” His name felt heavy on your tongue.

He only hummed in response and before you could second guess yourself you confessed, “I’ve wanted you since the moment I met you.” You took a deep breath and pulled him in. “And I want you right now.”

He snaked a hand behind your neck and angled you towards him. “I know you do.” His voice was strained, grunting against the urge to jump you and the pressure between you. “And I think I’ll have you.” His tone sent a thrill through you all the way to your core.

In a burst of motion, you tugged him against you and pulled him back by the neck. You moved your lips against his as you both fell back onto the table, Crosshair laying across you. His cock dug into you as your hips ground together. After a moment of shock, Crosshair’s eyes fluttered shut and he moved to consume you.

With a hand under your hip, Crosshair pulled you up just enough to give him the space to pull down his pants. They fell to the floor and his hand met yours at the hem of your pants. You both fumbled with the clasps and worked to wiggle you out of them. Simultaneously you stripped off your shirt, tossing them aside and grabbing each other’s faces. 

Crosshair maintained the kiss while pulling you to the edge of the table, his fingers sliding between your legs to your slit. He found you completely slick, feeling like velvet as he dipped his finger into you.

He moaned into your kiss at the feeling of you so wet for him.

His touch strummed you, pushing you into a feverish frenzy. “Crosshair.” You whined through kisses. Again, he only responded with a hum. You pulled away, panting and reaching between you two.

You found the length of him and gave him a few pumps that he leaned into.

“I need you.” Your words were another confession, an invitation, and a plea.

Crosshair’s huffed a laugh as he removed his fingers. Two were glistening with your juices with a small strand of you hanging between them. He brought his fingers to his open mouth, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.

Slipping them off his tongue, he directed them right into your mouth. The taste of you on him sent your eyes rolling back only for a moment until you felt him slip inside you.

The sudden fullness of him jolted you up right, your hands dropping to his hips. You pulled him against you in time with his rhythm. You both needed him to be deeper.

You squirmed around him, whining as he hastened his pace. The sounds of your body working against each other only heated the room. His moans stood out the most to you, stoking the growing ache inside you.

Not once did he look away from you. You were stunning as you writhed before him, cradling your hips against his. And never did you look up at him with anything other than a lopsided smile.

“Say it again,” He panted, relentlessly driving the full length of him into you.

There was no question as to what he wanted. “I need you, Crosshair.”

As soon as the words were out, his mouth was on yours. He groaned against you, filling you him in a smooth, long thrust. Pulling back just enough that his lips brushed yours, he ordered, “Get up and turn around.”

In perfect tandem, he slid out of you and you slid from the table. You quickly bent yourself over the table for him and he didn’t make you wait.

Crosshair leaned over you, putting one hand between your legs and the other on your face. He lifted your chin, aiming your gaze to the viewport in front of you. The pitch black night made a black mirror out of the glass and your reflection, dizzy and lost in lust, stared back at you. 

Your eyes moved to Crosshair’s. The moment your eyes met his in the reflection, his cock met your folds and pushed right through you. He held you in place as he fucked you, his hand just out of view as he made stroked your clit. 

“Is this what you came here for?” His voice reverberated from his chest into your back.

Had your fantasies played into your journey to Kamino? ”Yes.” The affirmation came out a happy trill.

Crosshair moved your head so that his mouth reached your ear. “You know what you are?” Every word that came from him pushed you further to melt around him.

“Tell me.” You sobbed. The kiss he pressed against your ear ended with a light bite, pulling a whimper from you.

“Mine.”

That was it. One single word and you were crying his name. Your orgasm hit and a moment later Crosshair sheathed himself deep within you. His cock swelled, throbbing and cumming in waves until it leaked out around him.

You slumped against the table, both exhausted and elated, but Crosshair gave you no time to rest. He pulled out of you and dropped to his knees, watching as his cum spilled out of you. After a few drips, Crosshair spread you with his thumbs and gave you a long lick. He started at your clit and ran his tongue all the way up.

“Crosshair!” His name was a mumbled moan from you. “You can’t.”

From his knees, Crosshair turned you around to stand before him. “Too late.” He crooned before diving back into you. His licking and sucking made it hard to stand. When he put two fingers in you and started curling them inside you, another, almost painful, ache bloomed in you. You were so sensitive and his mouth was already bringing you to a second release

You dared look down, not expecting to see his brown eyes looking up at you. With your full attention; Crosshair hummed into you and focused his fingers on a soft spot inside you. The stimulation struck something more in you. Warm pressure pooled between your legs while you reached the brink of release.

“If you keep that up I’m going to-”

You didn’t need to tell him, he knew you were close by the way you convulsed on his fingers and the noises you made. He rocked his fingers harder into you and as his mouth focused on your clit. Impatience took hold of Crosshair and in his drive to see what more you could show him he took your clit into his mouth. He sucked on you, swelling your bundle of nerves so much that when he let his teeth lightly graze you, your entire body shuddered.

The pressure that built around his fingers snapped and you came around him. His fingers didn’t stop though and they kept playing you until your own cum coated his hands. You couldn’t stop the shakes hitting you or the way the floor became wet from you.

Only when you were on the verge of collapsing did Crosshair let you go. You barely caught yourself, elbows catching the edge of the table as your legs gave way. 

Drained in every way you huffed and puffed with a barely there smile. “That was-”

“Have you ever came like that?”

You didn’t have to look at the small puddle you left to know what he was referring to. Getting your feet back underneath you, you admitted. “Never.”

Crosshair got to his feet, helping you straighten out as he went. “Good.” Tipping your chin up he returned one of your smiles. “Let’s keep it that way.”

Your knees went weak again as you said, “Sir, yes sir.”

[ofallthingsnasty]

Oh... But what if you're a Warlord and Doflamingo is trying oh-so-hard to have some fun with you and Crocodile? He just wants you both, in typical 'the heart wants what it can't get' fashion. Because that's how it is - you're just as annoyed by his antics as Crocodile is and you two seem to find a strange sense of camaraderie in your shared dislike for the bird. It's cruel and tantalizing at the same time when you whisper among each other whenever the marine coops the lot of you up, purposefully ignoring his too-big grins and wandering hands.

minors dni, cucking, gets a little dark at the end

It's like he's air to you - at least until he outright bullies himself into your little tête-à-têtes and receives nothing but rolling eyes and cold acid. Oh, he wants to fuck that attitude right out of you both, he thinks, wants not one but two powerful shichibukai hot-faced and stupid on his cock. Mentally, he sees you two lounging right by his side on Dressrosa, basking in the hot sun, enjoying yourselves while he just gets to take, take, take and maybe watch you fuck each other shamelessly in front of an audience. (But oh, you're both so... stuck up. Palm trees and pools and cocktails and most importantly, swimwear and sex, are in the far, far future because he just knows that you two would rather take a cactus up your asses than be on friendly (and more) terms with him. Such a shame, it is.) But no, he has to watch you get closer and closer while all he can do is act like it doesn’t bother him one bit, when in reality he wants to bite his own tongue off with want sometimes. 

So imagine his surprise when you invite him in, just like that, one day, out of the blue - he’s too careful to call it a victory just yet, but he’s curious as to why little old you, always so cool, composed, almost icy, decides to propose a little tryst. And he’s right to be cautious, because no one other than Crocodile waits for you when you open the door to some non-committal bedroom, looking as bored as ever.

Oh? Are you planning on getting rid of him? It wouldn’t be the worst assassination plot that has happened upon him - but way too clumsy for the caliber of pirate you and the gator are. And he’s right - because before he can even make a single remark about what the hell you think you’re doing, he has to swallow his tongue at the sight of you two getting rather … intimate. Doflamingo is never speechless, but for a hot second even he can only cock a blond eyebrow, brain needing to catch up with his eyes. Reality is truly stranger than fiction, he thinks, shrugs his shoulders and promptly tries to seize the opportunity - only to get rejected decidedly and loudly. The puzzle pieces fall into place, then, and it all makes sense. So that’s how you want to play, hm? You want to discourage him from leering by making a show out of just how close you are. Too bad that he’s made of the very same material you two bastards are. He can be patient, when he wants to, can hold his words behind an unassuming face and just be grateful for what he has been given. He’ll find a way to get out of this on top - even if he only makes you think that this show doesn’t bother him, he tries to tell himself. Doflamingo doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s seething. He would have gladly watched you in any other context, but only to spite him, only to show him what he can’t have? It makes him both indescribably angry and turns him on at the same time. He was right before - someone needs to fuck the attitude out of the two of you, big-headed and self-assured that you are. Deep, deep down he knows he could just force himself between you right now - overpower both of you and teach you the very lesson that is itching beneath his fingertips. But where is the fun in that? Oh, no. You made the grave mistake of mocking him, of thinking yourself superior to him when you’re nothing but ants. And you’ll pay for that.

He sits and grinds his teeth while the two of you seem to have forgotten about his presence entirely, stewing in his anger, mapping out awful scenario after scenario- Only when you gasp, shaking him from his frantic thoughts, he notices just how hard he is against his pants. Rage melts away with every little moan, every grunt that comes from the bed and is replaced by that same white-hot desire that has been stirring within him for months. 

It’s unfair, entirely unfair. He feels like a kid for a moment, the way he wants to pout. He’s painfully straining against too-tight fabric while you two look like you’re having the time of your lives. Oh, he’ll get his revenge, he just knows it. He’ll make you beg for it, will make you stick out your tongue until you go cross-eyed, will make you degrade yourself for even a fraction of the things Crocodile is doing to you. And he’ll make the gator eat the dirt he likes to revel in, will make him swallow it alongside his hideous and uncalled-for pride until he won’t be able to look him in the eyes anymore. He’ll fucking ruin you both, it’s decided in that very moment. Gone are the dreams of fake blue pools and the three of you in cozy reverie, he only wants you beneath him now like the nauseating dogs you are.

Oh, you just made everything so much worse for yourselves, poor things. Because what you don’t know is that what Doflamingo wants - he gets.