#GIVE ME CHARACTERS AND I WILL LITERALLY CREATE ANYTHING BETWEEN THE TWO

[m0on-shro0m]

Saw something over X/Twitter and it was a clip from Tommyinnit’s video how he and Mumbo build battles Jack and Grian? How Jack made a pit in his and Grian’s cottage, then only explained the pit as “The pit :D” like some cryptic until just breaking “Its a pit :|”. Then they said “Secret Life ep1 in a nutshell”

(The person who posted is @thetomato_soup or display name as Vera🚦[Go check them out they are pretty cool I think])

Well this got me thinking

What would Jack’s and BigB’s dynamic be like? (This is gonna be about their characters and not the ccs soooo-)

I mean, c!Jack was never takin serious (like somebody I know *cough cough* Jimmy *cough cough* /j) other than by c!Nikki, and he was mischievous as well villainous because his hatred for c!Tommy.

Now this isn’t all about c!Jack’s evilness because this also goes out for any other Jacks because they are just mischievous and again not taken super duper serious.

BigB on the other hand is kind and sweet and a funny silly guy! He isn’t taken serious either or at least he doesn’t try to be serious— that was until Limited Life as far as I’m aware, he begins his journey of being just observant and watching.

Onto Secret Life, BigB by the moment he creates “the hole”, he is absolutely cryptic gaslight gatekeep girlboss!

So with these two, my brain had processed their duo to be

Jack: “I am the Mastermind and he’s my accomplice”

BigB: “You’re still alive because I made a promise”

LIKE BECAUSE OF THE FACT BIGB WAS IN EVOSMP AND DEFINITELY HAS BECOME MORE WATCHER LIKE THROUGH THE LIFE SERIES AND ITS JUST LIKE DIEJIEJEIE

Bro just imagine after Jack is being picked on and all and then fucking BigB from going all sweet and sunshine- just immediately gives death glares and pulling his watcher card on whoever was messing with Jack.

I CANT HELP BUT JUST IMAGINE THEM AS THE EVIL VILLAIN (who is actually cringefail) AND THE HENCHMEN (who is secretly mischievous)

Welp those are just my thoughts! Good day-night people!

[twenty-qs]

You know, one of my favorite under-the-radar interactions in Arcane is actually between Jayce and Vi.

On paper they have…literally nothing in common. One’s the golden boy science nerd, plastered all over Piltover as the symbol of progress, who has actively made decisions on the Council that made life in Zaun worse. One’s a bruiser who cut her teeth on the streets of Zaun, and then prison, as Piltover did its very best to forget she ever existed. They’ve had maybe, like, one actual conversation, in which Vi called him ‘pretty boy’ and Jayce looked deeply uncomfortable. But against all odds—they get along like a house on fire. I think Jayce is the only one Vi would have accepted weapons made of Hextech from; and I think Vi (and Caitlyn, but Vi came first) was the only person other than himself that Jayce would have made Hextech weapons for. They’re so in sync that they literally coordinate battle moves on the fly without needing to exchange a word. It might strike you as weird, at first. It’s just so improbable.

But it makes sense. Because the way they make decisions is almost the same—emotion. Impulse. Punch first, think later. Do what you think is right, and don’t wait for the world to give you permission, because it never will. They trust their gut and make snap decisions. And because the world of Arcane is morally gray, they usually regret it.

Which makes me think that some of the strongest parallels in this new season might actually be between Vi and Jayce. Arcane is about change. The price of change; the promises and dangers of change; and how people change, too. Vi and Jayce have been relatively stable character-wise. They change their minds about things, circumstances around them change, but at least at the end of s2e3, they’re still very recognizably themselves. Still punch first, think later. But the people around them have been undergoing extreme transformations.

Powder is now Jinx. Vi spent the entire first season refusing to see this, then failing to understand this. At the start of season 2, she still can’t reconcile the two in her mind—she can only conceive of them as literally two different people. Powder is dead. (I killed her.) All that’s left is Jinx. (I created her.) But the truth is that Jinx is still her little sister, is still the girl who was once Powder. Powder didn’t die—she changed.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn in season 2 is having a cataclysmic change because of her trauma and grief. The Caitlyn Vi fell in love with was brave, precise, determined—and fundamentally kind. She traded her gun away for medicine to save Vi’s life. She didn’t even hesitate. But now, all of that laser focus is being bent on revenge. Caitlyn has become increasingly single-minded, narrow-viewed, her world reduced to the target in her sniper’s scope. If you’re an obstacle, she’ll simply shoot right through you. She promised Vi she wouldn’t change, and then she hit Vi and abandoned her the moment Vi got in the way. Season 1 Caitlyn would never do that.

Vi struggles with change. She never seems to quite—grasp it. Doesn’t understand how the Undercity has changed while she was locked up, stagnant, an insect trapped in amber. She loves people with a sort of nostalgic glow. What the show forces Vi to reckon with is how far she’s willing to love someone before they’ve changed too much. She thinks it’s over with Jinx. She says she doesn’t consider Jinx as her sister anymore. But they are, they’re still sisters, of course they are. Jinx knows this. Jinx loves her sister, even now. Which means there might still be something in her for Vi to love too. But with Caitlyn, is there anything left of the kind girl who gave Vi her freedom and treated her with compassion? Can Vi still love the dictator literally waging war against her people? Should she? (Could she even stop loving Caitlyn if she wanted to?)

Jayce’s arc is just beginning in season 2, so I’m not sure which direction he’s heading in. But the parallels are already showing up. Is Viktor still in there, or is he dead? (Did I kill him?) Is it just the Hexcore using his body now, a monster that must be stopped? (Did I create him?) Jayce, too, might soon be forced to decide if he can still love someone who’s changed past the point of recognition. Or whether he should.

All this is to say that I hope we get more Vi and Jayce interactions this season. And that it’s definitely not a coincidence that we got two divorces back to back.

[puckinghischier]

Crowded

Luke Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets nervous in the crowd, but luke is right there to help her out of it

notes: i’m once again throwing a luke fic out into the world. i saw this request in my inbox and immediately thought of the zach bryan concert the boys just went to. i would literally give anything to attend a concert with them. i just KNOW they’re great concert buddies. sorry it’s kinda short, i just didn’t know how to drag it out any longer. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request: from my 400 follower celly - Character A can tell Character B is getting nervous in a big crowd, so A slips their hand into theirs to help them calm down.

[2.8k]

You had been looking forward to tonight for months. From the second Luke surprised you with the tickets for your birthday, you immediately started planning an outfit, making a playlist, and anticipating the trip.

When he told you his brothers and a few friends were tagging along, it only made you more excited, enjoying every moment you got to spend with your boyfriend’s brothers and their hockey friends.

After the concert, everyone was driving over to stay at the lake house for a few weeks, enjoying as much of the summer together as they can before pre-season training starts. You couldn’t wait to have a few weeks of fun on the water, but also wanted tonight to last as long as it could.

Your excitement grew even more when you found the perfect outfit for the occasion, even buying a matching light-up cowboy hat off of Etsy. You were especially excited for the chance to wear your boots again, not having many excuses to wear them in Jersey.

Luke had his hand planted firmly on the small of your back, making sure not to lose you as you weave through the crowd. You had bought Luke a new shirt for tonight, the orange t-shirt matching the burnt orange color of your dress.

He leads you over to the crowded merchandise stand, telling you to pick whatever you wanted. You struggled, loving every item tacked onto the display board. When you told him you couldn’t decided between a t-shirt and a hoodie, he bought you both before you could even open your mouth to protest, buying himself a hat and t-shirt as well.

“Luke, you just spent over $300 without even batting an eye,” you barked at him, crossing your arms to try and look menacing.

You know Luke could’ve afforded to buy you the entire stand and still not make a dent in his bank account, but you don’t like when he spends large amounts on you for no reason.

“Yeah, so?” he shrugs, taking your elbow and leading you away from the cloth covered table, slinging the clear bag of merchandise over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and huff at him, unfolding your arms and taking his hand, letting him lead you through the sea of bodies.

“’So?’”, you mimicked his response. “You didn’t have to buy half of the merch stand just because it took me more than three seconds to choose which shirt I wanted.”

He glances back at you over his shoulder. “The fact that you didn’t have your mind made up the second you saw the options means you clearly wanted both, so I bought you both.”

You reach over and pinch his side, mildly annoyed with how well he understands the way your brain works.

“Quit pinching me you little gremlin,” Luke hisses out, the nickname being one he uses when you’re being stubborn or annoying.

“Quit spending all of your money on me, you giraffe-man,” you fire back.

You can see his shoulder’s shake, your impromptu nickname for him amusing him.

He doesn’t respond right away, the two of you having made it to the entrance to your seats, walking up to the worker standing under the numbered sign.

The usher instructs you to show your tickets to one of the workers at the bottom of the set of stairs.

When you walk into the arena, you notice how large the space feels, the open floor and mostly empty seats creating the illusion of size.

Luke has to nudge you a bit, reminding you to keep walking, too in awe of the fact you’re actually here.

“Not so unhappy with me spending my money on you now, huh?” he leans down to whisper into your ear, making sure you can hear him over the roaring chatter.

You hit him lightly in the chest, a smirk on his face as the two of you walk down, showing your tickets to the usher once you reach the bottom of the stairs, a bright colored wristband with bold letters spelling out VIP FLOOR printed on each one.

You make your way over to a small, sectioned off area near the main stage, seeing the rest of your group already waiting for the two of you.

Jack is the first one to notice you approaching, his eyes lighting up and arms being slung into the air.

“It’s about time! We were starting to worry the two of you got lost!” he calls out, causing the rest of the group to turn their heads and call out greetings.

You smile, having missed those in the group that didn’t live in New Jersey.

Walking over to Quinn first, you give him a long hug, the last time you saw him being when he played his brothers in Jersey months ago. The frequent facetime calls the two of you share not being enough to scratch your Quinn itch.

“Quinnifer! I missed you!” you squeal as you squeeze him as tight as you can.

You can feel his chuckle as he squeezes you back. “I missed you too, Munchkin” he leans back, ruffling your hair.

Although you see Jack nearly every day back home in Jersey, Quinn is the brother you’re closest to. You and Jack are literally two peas in a pod, but there’s something about Quinn that made you feel comfortable with him from the moment Luke introduced the two of you.

He’s like the big brother you never had, always calling him when you need advice or need to complain to someone about Luke.

Anytime you have a particularly nasty argument with Luke, Quinn is the one you call. He always allows you say whatever you need to get out of your system before breaking the problem down and agreeing that his brother is an idiot, but that he also loves you with everything he has in him.

At first you tried to go to Jack with problems surrounding your relationship with Luke, but he clearly didn’t know how to help you. He either told Luke about your conversations, causing the argument to grow worse because Luke claimed Jack had no business knowing about what’s happening in your relationship, or he would shrug his shoulders and say “just don’t yell at him when I’m trying to sleep. I need my beauty rest.”

You swat Quinn’s hand away, trying to smooth down your now tousled hair.

“I see you dressed the goon, tonight,” he points out Luke’s orange shirt.

You turn your head to see him talking with Cole.

“Believe it or not, it was his idea,” you think back to after you bought your dress, trying it on for Luke once you came home from shopping with your girls. He loved the way you looked in it, his eyes widening the second you emerged from your walk-in closet.

He swallowed thickly, his gravelly voice choking out a “Did they happen to have a matching shirt? Because if you’re wearing that, I’m going to need something to match so everyone knows you’re there with me, not up for grabs.”

You blush at the memory, looking back over to Quinn.

“I always knew he was whipped, but damn you’ve got him down bad, huh?” he shakes his head, smiling in amusement.

“Wrapped around my little finger,” you hold up your pinky, wiggling it at Quinn with a giggle.

You feel a pair of arms snake their way around your waist, a heavy object resting itself on top of your head.

“What’s wrapped around your little finger?” Luke asks, his chin bumping against your scalp as he talks.

“You, duh,” you reply, moving your head forward and craning your neck to look up at him.

He looks between you and his older brother before uttering out a “Oh one hundred percent. Couldn’t unravel myself if I even wanted to,” he lets go of you, stepping up to stand beside you.

Quinn just laughs, bringing Luke in for a hug.

After you make your way around to greet everyone, the lights are dimming and the atmosphere inside of the arena changes.

You love the hum of excitement in the air, finding Luke and standing in front of him. You hear the first notes of Overtime as Zach Bryan comes onto the stage, screaming as loud as you possibly can.

Luke has a content, amused smile on his face as you scream out the lyrics, jumping and dancing around as the beat allows.

As the concert goes on, you make the switch from dancing with Luke to dancing with Jack, attempt to get on Quinn’s shoulders to get Zach’s attention, and slinging your arm over Cole’s shoulder to sway back and forth with him during one of the slower songs.

When it comes time for Zach to sing Revival, your favorite song of his, you beg Luke to leave your secluded area to get closer to the stage, wanting to experience being in the crowd for this one particular song.

He looks at you apprehensively, eyeing the large sea of people on top of one another, barely any room between the bodies pressed together. He worries about losing you in the crowd, your small frame allowing you to get swept away easily.

You tug on his arm like a little kid, repeating “please, please, please,” over and over again, assuring him you’ll be fine.

Luke eventually gives in, letting his brothers know where you two are going, claiming you’ll meet back up with them after the concert.

Grabbing your hand, Luke leads you off of the small platform and into the crowd, pushing his way as far up to the front as his large body will allow him.

You stop just a row or two of people away from the stage where Zach had just climbed onto, adjusting his guitar and microphone before starting the song.

As the song rang out around you, you sang along to every word, joining the rowdy crowd as the chorus starts.

You start to jump around in the small space you have, enjoying every second, until Zach walks his way over to the small portion of stage in front of where you stand.

As soon as his figure stands over the crowd around you, bodies start pushing against one another, everyone trying to get as close to him as they can. You feel yourself being shifted towards the metal barricade, not being able to fight against the rush of people.

You start panicking, whipping your head from side to side to find Luke. All you can see around you are strangers, not being able to move your body to look behind you. You have absolutely no control over your own body anymore, being stuck in-between a girl slightly taller than you and a man that has at least a hundred pounds on you.

Squeaking out a “excuse me,” and “can you let me out please?” you try to make your exit from the suffocating situation. Your eyes turn frantic when you realize that no one can hear you or cares to hear you. Your breath picks up, heart pounding in your chest.

You can feel the tears pricking in your eyes, not being able to regulate your breathing anymore, gasping hot air into your lungs as fast as you can.

You’re about to let out a scream, begging someone to pay attention to you and let you out of the mess you’re in, when you feel a familiar hand slip its way into yours.

Whipping your head around, you catch a glimpse of curly hair behind you, not realizing that the body pressed against your back has been Luke this entire time. You figured you had lost him when you were surged forward, unable to see him anywhere around you.

Your breath starts to slow slightly, knowing you’re not alone in this crowd easing some of your nerves. The feeling of your heart pounding is still present, not wanting to be in this situation one second longer.

Luke attempts to tug your body back towards him, but the impenetrable wall of people around you prevents him from doing so.

You manage to wiggle your way in a circle somehow, now facing Luke.

He takes one look at your frightened face and knows he has to get you out of here, now.

Pulling you towards him, he cages you in with is arms, your cheek pressed to his chest. He starts walking backwards, his hockey roots coming in handy as he all but body checks people out of his way. The two of you finally make it to the back of the large crowd, Luke not letting go of you until you were back over in your original section.

Quinn was watching the whole thing from the small platform he was stood on, about to walk over and fish you out himself before he noticed Luke’s head slowly moving backwards, away from the stage.

He can see you’re still shaken, walking over to meet the two of you at the top of the ramp.

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Quinn asks, concerned about how frightened even Luke’s face looks right now.

“No, she’s fine. Just shaken up, I think. She got trapped between a random girl and some dude at least triple her size,” he tells Quinn, running his hand down your hair in soothing motions. Your hands were still clutching his t-shirt, not wanting to let go of him just yet.

Quinn stares at your trembling figure the whole time, knowing you don’t want to leave Luke’s embrace but wishing he could do something to help you.

“Let’s get her out of here and to the car, yeah?” Quinn suggests, picking up yours and Luke’s bag of merchandise off of the floor of the platform.

Luke just nods, leading you back down the ramp.

Quinn steps over and let’s everyone know to just meet them in the parking garage before following yours and Luke’s intertwined bodies towards the nearest exist.

Luke manages to get you up the stairs and out into the outer ring of the arena without letting you go. Both pairs of your feet moving in tandem, not once risking tripping over one another.

He leads you out of the doors and into the cool night air.

You finally allow yourself to leave his embrace, instantly feeling better in the openness of the outdoors. Never letting go of his hand, you continue to let him lead you to the large garage.

Luke’s BMW sits right where he parked it, the loud beep echoing in the dark garage as he unlocks it.

He opens the passenger door, lifting you slightly to sit you down on the leather seat. His hands come up to your cheeks, his thumbs wiping the stray hairs that were sticking to the damp skin under your eyes.

“All good now?” he asks you, the frantic look of your eyes now gone.

You nod, looking into his concerned eyes. “M’alright. Just got scared. Too many people,” you mumble out, leaning into Luke’s palm slightly. “Sorry I made us go out there. Just wanted to have fun.”

Luke leans his forehead against yours, shaking it back and forth slightly. “No, it’s not your fault. Just bad timing is all,” he assures you, knowing how upset you’re going to be when you realized you missed most of the last song.

He pulls his head back, standing back to his full height outside of the SUV.

You notice Quinn standing a few feet away, letting you and Luke have your space.

Frowning, you call out to the eldest Hughes. “You didn’t have to leave early too, Quinny.”

Quinn looks over when he hears you address him, walking closer to the vehicle.

“Ehh, show was almost over anyways,” he waves you off. “Had to make sure my favorite little munchkin was okay,” he shrugs, telling you its no big deal.

You smile at him, thankful you not only have your boyfriend to look out for you, but Quinn as well.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you. Both of you,” you look between the two brothers, only ever seeing how alike they look when they’re standing in front of you.

They both tell you it’s not necessary, the main priority being that you’re safe and sound outside of the arena.

“Fine, I guess that means neither of you want to stop for post-concert pancakes on the way to the lake, then?” you tease, watching both of their heads snap up. All three brothers’ secret love of sweets is something you use to your advantage, only ever having to mention how good ice creams sounds before Luke and Jack are ushering you out of the door and driving you to the nearest ice-cream shop.

“Well, I guess if you really just feel the need to do something nice for us…” Quinn trails off, making a smile break out on your face, unable to hide the laugh at the sudden switch up.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you continue to laugh at the pair, Luke leaning in to buckle your seatbelt for you as Quinn climbs in the backseat, sending a quick text to the rest of your group, telling them if they want to join in on the pancake outing, they need to be making their way out of the arena, and fast.

[prythianpages]

When I Kissed the Teacher | Cassian

summary: After shameless flirting and one drunken confession, you decide to finally own up to your feelings for Cassian.

warnings: fluff, some suggestiveness/reader thirsting for Cas bc who wouldn't??

a/n: @daycourtofficial suggested this song and idea so big shoutout to her! Though I did a poll and Az won (you can find his version here), I decided to also write a version for Cas as a huge thank you for following me! I just reached 1k ♥ For the sake of this fic, Nesta and Cas are just good friends.

This is part of my ABBA x ACOTAR series (masterlist) where I dedicate a song to a character (:

Cassian strolls along the hallway, a carefree whistle coming from his lips. A towel is draped casually over his shoulder, barely doing anything to cover his well-defined upper half. A satisfying workout has left his muscles pleasantly fatigued and a content smile on his face. He usually trains in the morning but unfortunately, he had to rearrange his schedule to accompany Azriel on trip to Windhaven.

A creaking sound halts his steps and he turns his head to find you, his favorite trainee, struggling to open the door that leads to the infamous ten-thousand steps. Cassian watches you struggle for a moment longer, suppressing a laugh at the way you huff out in exasperation, allowing your forehead to fall against the door in defeat.

“What are you doing?”

Your head whips around in response, a dizzying blur causing a momentary loss of balance. As your entire weight leans against the door, it finally yields with a creak. Both the house and Cassian spring to action. A sudden gust of wind sweeps through, slamming the door shut and sending you stumbling forward instead.

Cassian catches you in his arms, one hand securing the small of your back while the other cradles the back of your head. Seemingly unfazed by the dangerous fate you almost, quite literally, threw yourself into, you appear nonchalant as you pull back slightly.

"I'm going out.”

As you speak, Cassian catches the subtle scent of ripe red berries coming from your breath. He recognizes it as Mor’s favorite wine. His hazel eyes graze over your body, taking in your thin cami top and shorts with heart patterns that match the hearts on the fluffy slippers you wear.

“Are you drunk?” He asks, his voice warm with amusement.

You don’t answer him, seemingly distracted by his bare chest. A thin line of sweat makes the black ink of his tattoos glisten, enticing you to lean in and have a taste. If you had drank a bit more, perhaps, you would’ve. But for now, you're content to place your hands on his chest instead, heart fluttering at the sensation of the hard muscle beneath. 

“Mmm, you’re absolutely delicious. Has anyone told you, you should be shirtless more often?”

Cassian chuckles. He’s caught you staring at him during training, often flexing his muscles on purpose for you to give you a better show. And it’s no secret that he finds you attractive too, especially after you coaxed it out of him one morning.

“Get off that pretty ass of yours and give me fifty.”

Your mouth falls open but it’s not the fifty push ups you’re gasping over. “You think I’m pretty?”

His gaze lowers, trailing down your body appreciatively before lifting back up to meet your eyes again. His lips twitch upwards and there’s a sparkle in his hazel depths. “I think you’re many things, sweetheart. Doesn’t keep you from giving me fifty. On the floor. Now.”

Flirting is common between you two but even then, there’s no way you’d say those words sober to him. “Yup, you’re drunk,” Cassian says. He makes a mental note to chide Mor the next morning for letting you out of her sight.

“And you’re Cassian. My favorite teacher.” You grin lazily at him, a finger grazing a path over to where his heart beats. Your touch creates a ripple of warmth, prompting his heart to lurch forward, craving for more of it. 

Get it together, he thinks as he reminds himself that you’re drunk.

“Mr. Cassian. My Mr. Cassian. My Cassian.”

A flush of warmth paints his cheeks at your slur of words and he doesn’t care if you don’t mean those words the way he’d like you to. You probably won’t even remember tonight and it’s this thought that gives him the courage to reciprocate. His fingers grip your chin lightly, thumb sweeping over your cheek in a tender caress.

“Your Cassian,” he affirms gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. If only you knew how much he adored you... 

Hearts take shape in your eyes, softening your gaze.  You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer into your drunken embrace. Cassian responds, his hands securing beneath your knees, effortlessly lifting you. A playful giggle escapes you, only to be hushed when you notice him carrying you away from the door.

“No, Cas,” you shake your head at him. Attempting to squirm away, you insistently gesture back towards the door. Yet, his arms around you tighten, holding you in place. “We’re going the wrong way! Rita’s is that way!”

“We’re going to bed.”

Your squirming stops and you draw back, looking up at him with a flirtatious flutter of your eyelashes. “We are?”

“You–you’re going to bed. Your own bed, where you will sleep…alone,” Cassian finds himself stammering as he avoids your gaze.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you reply and he can hear the frown in your voice. “I want to be with you.”

“Cauldron boil me,” Cassian curses, quickening his steps. The faster he can get you to your room, the better.

When Cassian finally reaches your room, he thanks the house for opening the door for him. Your silence prompts him to assume you’ve fallen asleep. As he carries you to your bed, his eyes wander around your room, taking in the small details. His heart swells with warmth when he catches a glimpse of the book he had given you over training methods–his favorite book–sitting on your nightstand.

Cassian pulls the covers off your bed and feels you stir in his hold, arms and legs tightening around him as if you could sense his impending departure. He literally has to pry your grip off of him so he can lay you down on your bed. He tucks you in with such tenderness that it sobers you up for just a moment, eyes blinking open. “Can’t you stay?”

The pout you give him is endearing and tugs at his heartstrings.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

“But–”

He brushes your hair back with a soft expression on his face that would’ve had you melting, if you weren’t upset by his rejection. 

"Not when you’re like this.”

“But…,” you begin again. A pleading look fills your eyes and there’s a subtle wobble of your lips. “What if I tell you I love you?”

Cassian pauses. His eyes study your face in contemplation. He would love nothing more than to slip under the covers with you but he remains firm in his resolve. So with a soft pat to your head, he says, “tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart.”

**

“Tell me when you’re sober, sweetheart,” you mock Cassian’s voice with a scowl the next morning. Contrary to Cassian’s belief, you remembered everything. “Ugh! He might’ve well just told me he hates me!”

“Or maybe, I don’t know, hear me out,” Nesta begins, raising her hands before you could interrupt. She sits across from you on your bed, already dressed in her training leathers. “He wants you to confess to him when you’re sober.”

Emerie, who leans against your desk, giggles at the look on your face. “Don’t be rational, Nesta,” she says in a teasing tone. “He totally hates her.”

The door to your room creaks open and Gywn steps in with a slight frown. “Hurry up! We’re going to be late for our morning session,” she then looks at you, her frown deepening when she takes note of your disheveled state. “Y/n, what are you still doing in your pajamas?”

 “I’m not going today. Tell them I’m hungover,” you tell her with a grimace, pretending to be sick. Nesta rolls her eyes at your dramatics. “I think I’m going to throw up. You should go before I do.”

Gwyn glances toward Emerie, who had also been drinking with you and Mor last night. She then turns back to you with narrowed eyes. “Emerie seems just fine to me.”

Emerie shrinks back with a small blush. The two of you exchange a look. Yes, you had been drinking with Mor and Emerie last night. But you had done most of the drinking while your friend snuck off with the pretty blonde.

“Leave her be,” Emerie says as she stands up straight, covering for you the same way you had for her.  “I’m sure Cas will understand, given the state he found her in last night.”

“What? Don’t tell me you confessed your feelings while drunk,” Gwyn says with an amused giggle. As the silence stretches, her eyes widen, head turning to you. You're quick to avoid her gaze, prompting her to remark, "No wonder he's blushing like a fool today."

That makes your head perk up almost immediately, eyes finding hers only to see the playful glint in her eyes. Nesta and Emerie laugh while you fling one of your pillows at Gwyn. She catches it with ease and throws it back at you. Surrendering to the inevitable teasing, you let the pillow hit you, collapsing onto the comforting expanse of your bed, hoping the blankets might swallow you whole.

“Can you all just leave me be?” You groan. “I’d like to wallow in my own embarrassment alone.”

"Fine," Nesta sighs, patting your leg as she hops off your bed. "But don't think about skipping tomorrow's training!”

**

The next morning dawns, and you find yourself unable to face training, still grappling with the aftermath of your drunken confession to Cassian. Out of all the fish in the sea of Velaris, your heart chose to hyperfixate on him. Your teacher. 

As night falls, you're contemplating skipping training again. It's only another day, and with Friday approaching, the weekend promises a much-needed break. This extra time might be just what you need to gather the courage to face him once more.

Turning in for the night, you cast a glance towards your nightstand. There, beside the book Cassian lent you, sits an untouched hangover tonic. It appeared the morning after your first skipped training session. When you thanked your friends, they had only looked back at you in confusion. You didn’t have to guess who left it there for you after that.

With a sigh, you close your eyes. One of these days, you'll tell him you dream of him every night. Until then, you savor the bittersweet anticipation and allow sleep to pull you into its embrace.

In the sweet haven of your dream, you and Cassian stroll through the center of Velaris as the city shimmers around you. Cassian laughs, the sound echoing like a sweet melody. The two of you then find yourselves in a meadow bathed in moonlight. A sea of luminescent flowers surround you and as the wind blows around you softly, Cassian sneezes. It’s your turn to laugh then.

Cassian rolls his eyes at you and then reaches for your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. He pulls you into a dance with a smile that fills your heart with warmth and–

Your body stirs at the sudden loss of warmth and the soft smile that was on your lips morphs into a frown. Something seizes your ankles, yanking you down the bed. With a sudden jolt, your eyes fly open, and a scream escapes your throat. It takes a moment to recgonize the hazel eyes glaring down at you.

“I hope that dream of yours was beautiful because you’re about to have a nightmare of a training session,” Cassian huffs but there’s a teasing to his tone. “Come on, get up.”

Staring up at him in surprise, your heart flutters, still entangled in the remnants of the dream. Unsatisfied with your lack of response, Cassian leans forward and effortlessly picks you up, hoisting you over his shoulder. The trance shatters, and you protest, kicking and punching.

"Hey! Let me go!" you exclaim, your resistance met with Cassian's apparent indifference as he heads towards the door.

"At least let me freshen up and change!" you plea in exasperation. "You can't expect me to train in my pajamas!"

Cassian rolls his eyes because if you had woken up early like usual, you would’ve had more than enough time to change into something more comfortable for training. He doesn’t care. He just needs you to be there. On time.

“I’ll catch a cold or freeze to death on the rooftop!”

He pauses, his wings shuddering at the thought. While he doesn’t care about what you wear,  he does care about you. Setting you down, Cassian regards you with a stern expression, though his stomach flutters. He hadn’t seen you since that night.

“You have 5 minutes.”

Cassian watches as you spring into action, your hurried footsteps echoing through the room as you run toward your bathroom. He bites back the urge to laugh. He’d never seen you run so fast.

**

Cassian was not exaggerating when he said you were in for a nightmare of a training session. Much to your dismay, your friends were all under Azriel’s instruction for the morning, allowing Cassian’s attention to solely focus on you. Something you normally would’ve swooned over but given your current tension…

“You’re doing it wrong.”

You let out a huff and lower your sword, dragging the pointy edge along the gravel. A scowl taints your features. “I need a break.”

Cassian shakes his head at you. “Not until you get this move right.”

He moves to stand behind you, placing his hands at your waist. Suddenly, you're thankful for the vigorous activity Cassian pushed you into. It allows you to put full blame for your heavy breathing on the demanding training and not on the way Cassian’s warm breath tickles your ears as he instructs you on how to properly position yourself.

“Like this,” he tells you, using a knee to prod your legs further apart.

Your knees wobble and once again, you blame it on your exhausted muscles. Cassian chuckles, the hands on your waist helping hold you steady. “Are you drunk, y/n?” He teases.

You turn your head to glare at him. “I’m sober.”

Cassian raises an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

You toss your sword aside, freeing yourself from his hold, and spin around to face him. "And you want to know something else?"

Crossing his arms against his chest, Cassian's lips twitch upwards. He’s fully aware of the way your gaze momentarily dips down, catching the flex of his biceps. "What?" he prompts, the hint of a teasing smile playing on his face. 

Suddenly, the words die at your throat as you meet his gaze again. The intensity in his eyes rattles your nerves and you feel the courage slowly slipping away. Desperate to not let this moment slip through your fingers, you curl your fingers into his leathers and yank him down to your height. Choosing to show him instead, you lean forward and press your lips to his.

You pour out all your feelings into the kiss, heart quickening when he begins to reciprocate. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He’d dreamt of this moment just as much as you did and now that he had a taste, he didn’t want to stop.

Unfortunately, for him, the screams tearing through the training grounds have you pulling away. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Emerie and Gwyn, going wild and playfully tugging at Nesta’s arms while she laughs. Even Azriel indulges in a chuckle.

Blush creeps into your cheeks. You hold your breath as the world seems to stand still. However, instead of an awkward response, Cassian simply smiles, the flush of his cheeks matching yours and you feel like you can breathe again.

“I like you,” you finally confess, exhaling as your gaze dips downward. “Like might not even be sufficient enough at this point…"

Cassian's fingers gently grip your chin, coaxing your gaze back up to his. His thumb sweeps over your cheek in a tender caress—the same way it did on the night of your drunken confession. But this time, he doesn't hold back. He allows his thumb to trace the soft plush of your lips next.

And if the gleam in his hazel eyes was not enough to send you to the seventh heaven, his next words did.

“I’m falling for you too.” Cassian says with a fond smile.

Your lips lift into a smile of your own as you look back at him. But it's short lived. There's a flash of red and then Cassian is forcing your sword back into your hands.

"I thought we were done for today," you groan, knowing that you in fact were not done. You just hoped your confession would've distracted him enough.

The soft smile on Cassian's face is replaced with a smug smirk. "Not until you get this move right, sweetheart. In position. Go."

a/n: hope you all enjoyed this one! ❤️ idk how siphon powers work 100% but let's just roll with Cas's siphons being able to pick up a sword.

tagging: @hellodarling1357 , @kennedy-brooke, @scooobies

[starcurtain]

Hello! I just saw your latest post and you might have been referring to my ask if it was the one about Ratiorine's differing philosophies or of what philosophies they abide by (existentialism, absurdism, etc) then that's me! If you weren't referring to that I apologize for the confusion. Sending it off anon this time so maybe it doesn't disappear 🥲

Sorry for the ask disappearing the first time; I'm not sure what happened, and I was so sad because I had been carefully holding on to it to answer it! I'm glad you were able to resend.

I do have to say first that philosophy is not my area of expertise, so there may be much more qualified philosophy buffs out there who can answer this more accurately than me, but I'll give it a go with my personal understandings of the characters:

First, Ratio is the easier of the two I think. As many people have said, he's a good fit for existentialism. His entire shtick is basically believing in the power of the individual to improve and enrich their own life, to fight valiantly regardless of the hardships imposed by their life's circumstances, and to make themself into a better person by their own choices.

It's important to underscore that this means Ratio believes in self-determination, in the idea that people's lives are not foreordained but are actually actively shaped each day by personal decisions. Therefore, people have inherent freedom to decide the course of their own lives by accepting what they approve of, refusing to accept what they disapprove of, and harnessing their own individual power to ultimately achieve self-actualization.

Essentially, Ratio works under the impression that life is not guided by something as intangible as destiny, and no matter where you start off in life, what ultimately happens to you is within your control (or at least within the control of whoever controls you). This is likely a small part of why it grates on him so badly that he wasn't recognized by Nous, because the fact that one can dedicate everything to a goal and still not achieve that goal runs contrary to his central philosophy.

If he believes that people have the power to determine the course of their own lives, then what does it say about him, who fought so hard to do exactly as he claims even idiots can do--seize control his own fate--and yet didn't succeed? Are there some things outside of man's power? It's enough to make even a renowned doctor question himself, and Ratio decided to come out on the side of "It's a personal failing, not a flaw in my philosophy." He literally said "Skill issue" to himself.

Changing tack a tiny bit here, I think it's also important to emphasize that there is a difference between existentialism and nihilism even though these philosophies dovetail. Again, I'm not an expert in philosophy, so my understanding is very limited, but the basic idea of existentialism is that "existence comes before essence"--that is, things start as a blank slate and gain nature and meaning after the fact. We are not created by some grand design, nor is there any inherent "purpose for living." Things just exist because they exist.

This is where existentialism intersects with nihilism, at the starting point that existence is inherently meaningless. But, in my personal opinion, nihilism as a philosophy fails to move beyond that. Pure nihilism is ultimately self-defeating because it leaves us with no motivation to commit to growth. It's a philosophy antithetical to the continuation of life as we know it. Existence is meaningless and any meaning you personally derive from existence is also meaningless, so why bother attempting to derive any meaning at all? This complete apathy is the Device IX that Star Rail paints as so dangerous.

And Ratio is not this way at all. His philosophy absolutely reaffirms that life can have meaning, so long as people create that meaning for themselves. He simultaneously asserts that anything that people create is not meaningless ...which basically means that meaning itself cannot be meaningless. (If that makes any sense to anyone.)

Frankly, I would argue that this philosophy may be a core part of why Ratio has not been recognized by Nous so far, rather than simply his "being a good person." (Nous is a robotic AI super-computer, why would THEY care about the presence or lack of human empathy?) Ultimately, Ratio's central philosophy about people being capable of determining their own fates and purposes also applies to his understanding of knowledge--knowledge is not something which is inherent in certain beings from birth or limited to the purview of the "special" (geniuses), but is attainable by all people. People are not "born talented" or "born untalented," they are simply "educated" or "uneducated," with the only barrier between these categories being one's own personal willingness to change. The mundane can become the divine--if they work hard enough at it.

Thus, knowledge is not wealth to be hoarded, but a currency to be spent to enrich other members of humanity.

(By the way, completely random aside--it also surprises me that everyone relates Ratio to Alhaitham from Genshin when they literally have such a glaring fundamental discrepancy in their understanding of the concept of wisdom... But anyway, back on topic!)

Ratio may (sort of) respect the members of the Genius Society, may recognize their incredible knowledge and abilities, but at the heart of the matter lies a single all-important question: Does Ratio even really believe in "genius" as a distinction (other than as a concept to insult himself)? Does he truly believe there is barrier between brilliance and idiocy that "ordinary people" can never cross?

He speaks convincingly about geniuses being different from "the ordinary," but if his core belief is that people have the power to pull themselves up out of despair and achieve greatness through effort and self-development, rather than some form of luck or god-given talent at birth, then... do born "geniuses" even really exist? Is there really an insurmountable difference between brilliant and mundane?

If knowledge is the equalizer of all sentient beings, do we not all have at least the initial capacity to become geniuses?

I personally think this central distinction about the capacity for knowledge among all humanity is the actual deciding factor in Ratio's rejection from the Genius Society, because, at the end of the day... how do you become a member of the "Genius Society" when you fundamentally reject the distinction of "genius" as an exclusive category from the start?

Ratio wants to share knowledge and uplift everyone (even if he thinks most people are starting off at the rock bottom known as idiocy).

His mission is diametrically opposed to the concept of a "Genius Society" in the first place.

He wanted in to the cool kids club because he desperately craves validation and acceptance, but the philosophical values of the Genius Society are ultimately incompatible with his own. In short, he would have to cease to be "Veritas Ratio" to succeed in joining the geniuses.

Okay, okay, back to the original point again, and just one more note about Ratio: Even though existentialism also goes hand-in-hand with absurdism, I don't think Ratio is far enough down the philosophical rabbit hole to believe in the wider definition of absurdism. Although I think he does agree with the inherent meaninglessness of existence, I don't think he views existence itself as truly irrational and the universe as as manifestation of unknowable chaos. I think he'd at least like to imagine that there are some ontological principles and inherent laws governing the operations of reality, and I think he does believe that certain things can be predicted with the application of enough thought... He certainly seems to believe in some form of "objective truth," at the very least.

I think he'd at least like to believe the universe is semi-orderly, even if he might deep down admit this is also wishful thinking.

So, to me he reads as a strong metaphor for pure existentialism, with deliberate rejections to both nihilism's apathy and absurdism's lean toward solely subjective reality.

PHEW, this is already long and I still have a whole other character to talk about... I had more to say about this topic than I thought. Sorry for the long read!

Anyway... Aventurine.

I've seen all sorts of things thrown around for Aventurine's philosophy, and while I think he does inherit a bit of Acheron's absurdism by the end of 2.1, I actually don't think Aventurine is an absurdist, an existentialist, or a nihilist.

I think Aventurine is a struggling fatalist.

He doesn't like it. We see him actively question it, but ultimately, he does come back to the concept of destiny over and over.

First, I think it's important to draw a clear distinction between Ratio and Aventurine: Ratio's existentialism is a philosophy that technically works even in a theological vacuum. Nous doesn't have to exist for Ratio's philosophy to function. Ratio's belief in the self-determination of humanity is, in fact, somewhat opposed to belief in aeons in the first place, and only works because technically the aeons of Star Rail used to be human (or were originally human creations). It's essentially an atheist viewpoint.

But Aventurine is a religious character. Like, he's just... religious. That's a fact about him. Even though we do hear his doubts, at the end of the day, he actually believes in Gaiathra, and believing in a omniscient supernatural being that is not human in origin (is from outside the aeon system) comes with a whole set of philosophical foundations that most aeon-worshipping characters just don't have in Star Rail. (Sunday is the obvious exception here, by the way.)

Kakavasha's like the one practicing pagan in the middle of an atheist convention. Awkward.

Being more serious: Religion requires faith. Faith requires the ability to believe in things you cannot verify with empirical facts. To believe in things you can only feel, never see. The belief that a goddess is watching over you, blessing you, and guiding you requires you to also accept the idea that events in your life are not always in your own control--that some of what occurs to you is decided by powers beyond your comprehension.

In essence, faith requires belief in fate. And that leads to fatalism.

No matter how much he doesn't like it, no matter how much we see him struggle with it, Aventurine does actually seem to believe in the concept of fate. He believes that some events in life are destined to occur, that some things are outside of individuals' control, and that ultimately not everything can be changed.

This is the dead opposite of Ratio's mindset: No matter how hard we fight, how far we push ourselves... in the end, sometimes people fail. Sometimes the only answer to our endless struggles is that we die, as we were destined to, before ever achieving the greatness we sought or the futures we were promised.

As an aside, I don't think faith or religion are necessarily the only factors connecting Aventurine to this particular philosophy either. Even removing theological aspects from the conversation, his extreme focus on the gambling aesthetic suggests a strong connection to fatalism too--if not a goddess, then one's fate may as well be in the hands of luck itself, of the whims of the rolling dice--or the push and pull of "powers that be," those figures of authority in the room where it happens, who make their shady deals according to preset rules and expectations, every bet resulting in an ultimately predictable outcome.

(He keeps gambling and gambling, hoping that he'll get a different result than the one he knows is inevitable...)

This is, of course, an inherently pessimistic mindset, a perfect dark-mirror to Ratio's deep-down optimism. Fatalism puts humanity into a position of powerlessness. All hopes and dreams are given over to the goddess, by whose judgment and whims the actual events of one's life are decided. Pain and poverty are inevitable trials. Suffering and death are foreordained.

And yet Aventurine has to cling to this, as much as he doubts it, as much as he hates the idea that things in his life are beyond his power to control.

Because if fate doesn't exist... If it wasn't destiny, if the tragedies of his life weren't trials from the goddess, if things weren't supposed to go this way... Then every single thing in his life really is meaningless. Everything he suffered, everyone he loved and loss, his mother's and sister's sacrifices, the torment he went through--just sheer bad luck. All of it, completely and utterly meaningless.

How can you convince yourself to keep living, in the face of such supreme and all-encompassing Nihility?

This is the central struggle of Aventurine's character, the actual mental and emotional journey we see him undertaking from 2.0 to 2.1. He is literally on the precipice, swinging between a viewpoint that he hates--his fatalistic belief in destiny--and an entirely self-defeating philosophy--nihilism--whose only possible final outcome is suicide.

This is what his talk with Acheron at the end of 2.1 is all about. This is how she saves him. In that final cutscene, we witness Aventurine reach a mental compromise, managing to finally reconcile his necessary faith in the concept of destiny with the reality that life may truly begin meaningless--but beginning meaningless does not mean staying meaningless, and believing in destiny does not bar you from making your own choices or finding your own purpose in life.

Later on in Penacony's story, we literally see Acheron use Ratio's philosophy to reject the same nihility that crept into Aventurine's:

Acheron wards off nihility's apathy through an absurdism all her own, but one which manages to enclose both Ratio's and Aventurine's otherwise incompatible mindsets: We have no way of ever knowing for certain whether the events of our lives are fated or mere nonsense. We have no way of knowing if our choices are our own or foreordained. But we don't need to know this to find meaning and value in them. Whether life is nothing more than unpredictable chaos or a predetermined pattern of cause and effect, what matters is what you make of it.

Ultimately, I think that this post has really helped me recognize just how well Aventurine and Ratio work as philosophical foils.

They really are perfect opposites.

Aventurine's fatalism is deterministic, while Ratio's existentialism is self-deterministic. Aventurine's philosophy is inherently pessimistic; Ratio's is inherently optimistic. Ratio's philosophy operates on a core belief in the freedom of humanity to decide their own paths in life, while Aventurine hates but does ultimately believe that people aren't really in control, that even if no gods are guiding us, we can't rise above our own natures. Ratio's philosophy makes meaning from growth; Aventurine's makes meaning from loss...

And they both struggle with fundamental doubts in their own philosophies, core questions that are directly tied to their own lives. Aventurine worries that his faith might be misplaced, that destiny might not exist, and that everything he suffered might have been in pointless, empty vain. Ratio faces the crisis of recognizing that his core belief in the power of humankind to determine their own paths and make their own meaning might not actually apply to everyone--because it doesn't seem to apply to himself.

It's literally only by bridging this philosophical binary with Acheron's anti-Nihility absurdist rhetoric that we can reach some sort of healthy outcome. That's why it takes both Ratio's note and Acheron's comments to finally lead Aventurine to acceptance. Ratio probably needs a little bit of Aventurine's "If you didn't make it into the Genius Society, there's got to be a reason" mindset to finally reach some peace with his situation too.

I'm not even a philosophy expert and even I can see that there's really only one takeaway here: These two characters were totally written with each other in mind.

Aventurine and Ratio need each other on core metaphysical levels! 😂

It's so good guys. You can't see it, but I'm making chef's kisses, I promise.

[ihaveforgortoomany]

The American Dream explored through Schneider (spoilers mainly for Chapters One and Two)

Back again with Great Gatsby parallels with Reverse 1999, this analysis is inspired by the parallels seen in Chapter Six between characters like Isolda, Kakania and Marcus to the characters in Tosca; as well as how the nature of tragic plays are explored in said chapter.

Anyways here is a exploration of Schneider through the lens of the "American Dream" because while I love oranges I kinda wanna explore Schneider as a character more outside of the romantic angle (thats still here ofc but more on her motivations and development) .

What is the American Dream?

(Im not American, just someone who/ studied the Great Gatsby)

In short this is the idea that in the "New World"/ America, anyone can do anything as long as you worked hard for it - Gatsby embodies this idealism.

This idealism is notably disillusioned by the end of the 1920s known as the Jazz Age - a period known for Hedonism, Prohibition and the belief that society had become less moral. The Great Gatsby and Tender is the Night by Scot Fitzgerald is born from this pessimism of the 1920s.

So how does this relate to Schneider?

Schneider

Putting aside her flirtatious manner and being a literal mafia boss, she is a character that was forced to grow up very fast and provide for her family at a very young age of 11. The male voice hammers home how Schneider had taken on the mantle of the breadwinner for the Greco family and how she will go to every length to help and care for them, such as turning to the Foundation and the Manus.

Now cue the oranges

The American Dream and the nature of it being a myth is expressed in the storybook scene between Vertin and Baby Schneider, specially when they share that final big orange. Im pretty sure this scene the game sets to auto as baby Schneider talks about the New World and how the "God loves the world there" intercut with Schneider suffering and pleading - just like Vertin's illusion that idealised is not real.

Baby Schneider talking about the New World with so much hope and joy being cut by the older Schneider, now jaded by the rejection of the Foundation and now the Manus reinforcing the pessimism of the 1920s that concludes with the 1929 Wall St Crash.

The American Dream is a myth, it has always been: Schneider was denied salvation on the basis that she was human, denied by the Foundation, denied by the Manus once they found out her lie and is finally taken by the Storm because she could not be on the Ark/ the suitcase would not protect her.

(I wonder when Schneider realised no matter the outcome she would be reversed alongside her family, maybe the moment she told her mother to starting moving once she realised Forget Me Not was not going to hold the end of his bargain.

I mean like everyone I would of liked a playable Schneider or even more on her as a character than the crumbs we got. But I think it is more fascinating how we Don't. Know. Schneider. At. All. Purposefully we are left wondering who she is as a person with only less than 24 hours of knowing her.

We don't even know her actual name but shes left enough of an impression to

One - Trigger Vertin's deep sated trauma of the Breakaway Incident/ giving false hope of salvation for to fail

Two - Create a fandom wide trauma for oranges and haunt the narrative that we actively call a depressing moment oranges

Less than 24 hours Schneider gave us enough to never forget her.

[essenceeater]

Erron black trying to court s/o headcanons? 🫡

Erron Black Courting HC's

I LITERALLY LOVE YOU FINALLY SOMEONE REQUESTS ERRON! I love him so much, cowboys are just AUGHHHH 😫😫😫 This is probably the fastest request I've written!

Character: Erron Black.

Triggers: Mentions of guns, lmk if I missed anything.

Requested: Yes

🔓 Requests are open at the moment🔓

Link to rules

🐎 Erron Black would maintain his mysterious aura but gradually reveal his softer side to his S/O. He might leave little gifts or hidden notes around to pique his S/O's curiosity. He leaves small, enigmatic notes with cryptic messages, encouraging the reader to solve them, leading to secret meetups.

🐎 Occasionally, he sends them rare desert flowers or unique trinkets as tokens of his affection.

🐎 Erron challenges you occasionally to a shooting competition in a secluded area, setting up targets in creative and challenging ways.

🐎 He'd provide shooting lessons, standing closely behind the reader to guide their aim, creating a romantic tension. He just wants to impress you with his sharp shooting skills

"Let me show you how it's done," Erron stands behind, guiding his S/O's arm, both focusing their vision on the target in front of them. "Now, squeeze the trigger gently."

🐎 An adventure might involve a surprise horseback ride to a hidden oasis, complete with a picnic he prepared. I know this is Erron we are talking about but he's gonna try his damn best to make you happy.

🐎In perilous situations, Erron would shield the reader, using his skills to ensure their safety. He'd be damned if something happened to you. He'd go to great lengths to ensure his S/O's safety, showing his commitment and care.

"I can't stand to see anyone threaten you. I'll always keep you safe, no matter what."

🐎 Erron's morally ambiguous nature might lead to inner conflicts, as he tries to balance his loyalty to Outworld with his feelings for his lover. He doesn't want to scare you away or think he'd hurt you, but he's not going to give up his outlaw life, just keep you away from the dangers.

🐎 During quiet nights by a campfire, he definitely would tell you stories, some goofy, some intense. He might gradually open up to you about his past and the reasons for his outlaw lifestyle, creating a bond of trust and intimacy.

🐎 YOU CAN'T TELL ME HE WOULDN'T TRY TO CHARM HIS S/O WHILE COURTING THEMMMMM!! HE SO WOULDDDD.

🐎 Expect lots of playful banter and teasing from Erron as he tries to charm you. His wit and humor would be part of his courtship strategy. HOWEVER THEY ARE ALL SUPER CHEESY AND FUNNY. I love him but I feel like he'd be saying some of the most goofy shit possible with someone he genuinely likes.

🐎He would tease the reader with witty one-liners, creating a playful yet flirtatious dynamic.

🐎 Banter between them would be a recurring theme, adding humor to their interactions.

"You might want to be careful, sweetheart. I've been known to steal hearts." Erron said as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him as the two of you watched the stars.

"Oh really?" S/O chuckles as they rest their head against his shoulder. Rolling their eyes at his cheesy attempt to charm.

🐎This man is an outlaw, he's unpredictable.

🐎 What does this lead to?

🐎He might surprise the reader with unexpected acts of kindness or show up when they least expect it, keeping them on their toes. All of a sudden he's appearing at their doorstep with a homemade dinner and flowers in hand.

🐎 Unexpected visits during storms, when the reader least expects it, would be Erron's way of expressing his affection.

"I brought dinner. Hope you like it."

"You can cook?"

"A little something I picked up over the years. Just for you."

🐎 Erron Black would likely be a fan of slow burn, gradually building a connection and chemistry with his S/O, making the eventual romance more rewarding from his courting.

"I reckon I want to savor every moment with you, darlin'. No rush."

Essenceeater © 2023 ┃ do not copy, modify, steal, repost ANY of my content.

[misstrashchan]

So. What's the opposite of a sacrifice?

With the final episode looming it's a question we've been turning in our heads, so I wanted to give my best guess/analysis as to what it might be before Jon and Muna come to tear our hearts out in the final episode.

This is the question Hayward asks Paige, and later Carpenter, and it seems to be the underlying thematic statement of the series, in response to Carpenter's exposition in the first episode of the Silt Verses that introduces us to the fundamentals of the world and system they live in:

CARPENTER:

A god must feed.

A god must be fed.

This is a fact agreed upon across every territory in the Peninsula. And so, really, the only difference between the people born to the water and the people born to the land...

...is the precise nature of the sacrifice we need to make.

There is a God for anything in their world as long as there is someone believing in it. But all Gods need human sacrifices. A god must feed. A god must be fed.

These simple rules have been used as fascinating and horrifying metaphors of our modern society, and to explore themes of faith and sacrifice throughout the story.

And so the final question the last season proposes is if we can find a way to make something better, that can exist outside of this ultimately unsustainable exploitative system and the harm it inflicts upon ourselves and the world, when it has come to define so much of the way we live and how we think. And that means figuring out the opposite of a sacrifice, if they want to kill the idea, the lie, that is at the heart of their world.

At first I thought the opposite of a sacrifice, of offering up to the gods, was about killing your gods. Starving them out. Refusing to offer up anything. And that is part of it, I think. I mean it's literally been a repeating mantra of multiple characters this season once they've reached they're breaking points. Violence in revolution as a tool to overthrow oppresive systems is sometimes needed and necessary. But what about after? What kind of future or vision for a better world can there be? There needs to be something at the heart of that movement that isn't just about violence against their opressors, because you then define yourself in relation to them.

This is even illustrated in the Many Below god Paige created having predator and prey emeshed together, a movement defined by their resistance against the predators of the world, the beasts, cannot seperate themselves to meaningfully create a better future that exists outside of that dichotomy. I think Hayward realises that even earlier in S2:

HAYWARD:

There’s a hare in the grass, half-buried and bloodied.

A barn owl has latched onto its back, its talons driving deep into the flesh of the hare.

Both animals are dead.

Familiar black stone veins protrude from the carcass of the victim, twisting like branches, driving upwards into the predator’s skin.

Hare and owl are locked together, inseparably.

The god must have struck just as the prey died.

White crocus is flowering up from the two entwined bodies.

(Unhappily)

And suddenly I begin to feel deeply afraid.

It all makes me think of a dormouse, dead in the dirt, its ribs showing. Of rabbits, teeth chattering, hungering from their cages

I kick dust up over the corpses. Nudge them aside into the long grass so they can’t be seen from the path.

Paige doesn’t need to know about this, I tell myself.

There’s no sense in worrying her. Not yet.

Which then makes sense why he's the one proposing the question of what the opposite of a sacrifice is to Paige (and Carpenter), for this very reason.

I think the answer is pretty simple and yet, like most simple truths in this world, it's forgotten and overlooked or twisted as naïve.

Preservation. The opposite of a sacrifice is preservation. To better explain this let me use an example:

If someone who cared about you tells you you're working too hard at your thankless job, sacrificing your sleep, your time, your personal relationships, your physical and mental wellbeing, far past the point considered sane, they'd tell you to stop. To make sure you take care of yourself. Instead of endlessly feeding yourself into a machine to justify your existence.

Applied to the world of the Silt Verses, it's not just self preservation and caring for yourself. It's about caring for, protecting, and preserving the lives of those around you, that is the ultimate act of rebellion and political warfare, the first steps forward towards a better world. Caring for humanity.

Whenever our characters reach a breaking point of turning against their gods, there's a common thread of wanting to save their fellow man, and realising the inadequacy of a god's ability to do that. Whether that's somebody close to them (like Faulkner and Paige):

Or humanity as a whole (VAL and Shrue):

SHRUE:

Use them, pass them on, do not forget the suffering that keeps the engines of this world turning, forget the name of your god and cherish the name of your neighbour that was swallowed up by it-

Cherish your neighbour. Be kinder to one another.

This can even go back to Carpenter's rejection of the Trawler-Man back in S1, her fury at the fact those she loved had been eaten (her family) and would continue to be eaten (Faulkner).

CARPENTER:

(Yelling to the river)

It's over between us, you twin mouthed prick!

Do you hear me?

Does that stir you from your torpor? Pry the barnacles loose from your sodden ears?

My father and mother were Gregory and Sandra Glass. My grandmother was Adalina Glass. My brother was Em.

They died for you.

Every single one of them died for you and they thought it meant something.

My name is Carpenter. And I am still alive!

I have loved you for so long. I have tried to know you for so, so much longer.

And I'm done with you. Here and now. I'm not laying down my life for you.

I'm not dying, do you hear?

The same breaking point for Faulkner at turning against his parish and finally snapping is the idea of Carpenter being offered as a sacrifice, an offering returned, begging for her to live.

I must clarify this is my own interpretation of the question and themes the story proposes. I'm

I'm not sure we'll actually get a hard answer so much as different characters offering their own answers and us as the audience encouraged to think for ourselves what it might be. I think this is what Hayward's answer might be at least, anyway, because like me he's a corny motherfucker:

If a sacrifice is the idea that the most meaningful and transformative thing you can do is to give up your life, your sense of self, to die, then the opposite of that would be to try to keep on living, and finding meaning and transformation in that, surely?

[bulbabutt]

ok i wanna talk about tmnt 2007 and the way i think this is the best version of a leo and raph conflict, and also leo as a character

for context i've been talking about tmnt things kinda chronologically, so i'm gonna mention an unconditional understanding in 03 i bring that up in a previous post about that show and the family dynamics in it here if u want context for what i mean

i think this movie can really be appreciated for the place it has between adaptations, and the way character-wise everyone is more or less the same as they've always been but with a more interpersonal relationship as the focus. the main villain of this movie doesn't really matter, the conflict, the fights, that's not where the strength is (although, it is reflected in the conflict and ill get into that)

so tmnt 07 is one movie that kind of combines the 90s movies, 03, and mirage all in one place, and tonally is is similar to the show that will come after it, 12. if the 90s movies give us conflict between leo and raph, and 03 gives us the unconditional understanding between the two, 07 takes these two aspects and creates a story out of it. (debate in your own mind if this movie is a literal sequel to the 90s ones or not, its not that important)

the set up of this movie is we are in a post killing the shredder world. leo has been told by splinter to go get training elsewhere, there isn't much context for what happened to cause this, but i would bet its a similar cause to 03, where he had ptsd and lashed out at his father to which splinter sends him to his grandfather to get better advice than he thinks he can give him. the difference here is there is no grandfather hes sent to, he's sent on a journey of self discovery around the world to learn about it and himself.

the thing about leo as a character, and this goes for all leos, he's has a very black and white way of thinking. leo thinks he's been sent away because he's failing his family, that he's not a good enough leader. so he stays away for longer because he doesn't feel good enough. he finds a place where he can help and he does that. leo always needs a bad guy to fight, or else he's fighting his own demons. so he stays there for a long time. finding a place he can help quietly, never letting anyone see him, and becoming a legend to the locals because no one knows what's really going down.

april manages to track him down and tell him about whats going on with his brothers, how they're holding up without him and without being a team, and i think thats a good reminder for him that they miss him. he doesn't tell april but he finds a way home only after hearing about this. when he arrives and speaks to splinter, he says "i was so caught up in my own world i forgot about everyone else, i'm sorry i failed" he still doesn't feel like he's done anything of worth.

i'm gonna jump in here and say, you know how we all love rise raph? cuz hes the big brother and some traits that come from that are like being overprotective and taking on everyone else's problems and trying to handle emotions alone? well that's a trait thats usually leo's. but the difference with leo is sometimes that concept doesn't make you as likeable. sometimes it means you come off like a nagging mother hen who thinks they know best but in an arrogant way. sometimes it makes you mirror being a parent when no one asked you to be. leo's less of a passionate character than raph, hes more analytical and full of himself. he takes splinters lessons more seriously, and hes always trying to do whats best for everyone so they don't have to worry. this is something evident with 03 and 12, but its so specifically noticeable here because these traits make up the main conflict. i just want to bring that up so we start seeing leo as no different than some of our other favourite iterations.

splinter responds to his apology by saying "you owe me no apology, but perhaps you should talk to raphael, your absence has been particularly difficult for him, though he'll never admit it" but when leo greets him raph is brushing him off.

on raph's end, this is him being angry that leo left, and angry that hes back and everyone wants to pretend that he wasn't gone at all. as if the time he was gone didn't happen. hes lashing out because he too cant handle talking about these emotions. and hes lashing out by becoming a vigilante in his own right.

i see a lot of people misunderstand what raph is doing here, that "this is what the turtles always do" or "this is the same as what leo was doing how could he be mad" when that is not true. that's what casey does. its true that both leo and raph have been fighting bad guys on their own (as a way of dealing with their issues) but raphael has made himself a costume to disguise himself which means hes prepared to be seen. hes riding a motorcycle around, which is loud. this isn't stealthy, this is aggressive. his vigilante name is in the news. the turtles are ninjas, they silently help where they can and fade into the night and, very specifically, they work as a team. these turtles live in a dangerous world, what if something happened to him while no one else was around? they would never know because he never told anyone.

so raph is lashing out, and leo doesn't have a good way of dealing with it. he tries to slide back into being leader, doing what splinter says but he forgets how his brothers are, and with raph egging them on they get into fights they shouldn't. which leo specifically gets in trouble for, as the oldest brother, and as their leader. leo tries to be this better leader hes supposed to have learned to be, but it doesn't work and raph ends up back out there in his vigilante get up. leo tracks down said vigilante, and in his peak "leo knows best" moment, lectures him, not knowing its his brother. there's a scuffle, and the mask comes off. let me point out that casey knew this vigilante was raph but his own brother didn't, because leo has been gone that long.

so lets get into what this fight is really about. on the surface, its "wow you've been going out at night alone putting yourself in dangerous situations with no backup" and "so what you're just mad that i can do it without you" which leo would be right about. and this is the analytical leo, he really thinks that's all that's going on here. what hes missing is that raphael has missed him as a brother, and hes hurt that leonardo left and just came back no big deal. that he wants everything to be normal. raphael is always a character with big emotions and the only outlet he knows to express them is violence.

leo, who as we've established, went away to learn to be better for his family is angry that raph doesn't see that. he's mad raph doesn't appreciate the effort he went to, and he thinks he's just angry because he's not in charge. each brother sees the other as being arrogant.

this leads them to the big fight. no one can disagree that this is the best part of the movie (seriously watch the movie for this scene if you haven't seen it before) , but the real best part of it is that raphael wins. raph proves hes just as capable of a fighter as his brother, if not more-so. he uses those sais as they're supposed to be used, catching leo's swords and in a fit of rage he fucking breaks them, leaving leo defenceless and completely vulnerable to attack. you'd think he'd be smug that leo lost but he pauses, going through a lot of emotions in a moment, questioning what he's doing, why hes doing it. and leo finally looks his brother in the eye and sees raph going through something he didn't before, realizing raph hasn't been angry that he's back, but that he's angry that he ever left. they don't have a conversation, because raph cant handle all these emotions and he runs away, crying as he does. leo just watches him, taking it all in and realizing the error of his ways.

hearing leo scream turns raph around, but he's too late to help him, and this is where raph regrets his own actions because right then, leo is also proven right in his argument. because he gets kidnapped. if leo hadn't chased raph down, there is a very good chance that would have been raph being kidnapped. with no backup, with no one knowing what happened to him. that's why its important that the turtles are a team.

raph goes home full of guilt, and there's a good moment of showing how he cannot open up emotionally here, because he grunts, punches the wall, knocks over some weights and forces splinter to ask him what happened, because that's how raphael is. he laments to his father that he finally understands why leo is the better son, proving that to raph none of this was about their team, but about their family. conflating the two ideas in his head. splinter gives him a talk that mirrors what he said to leo when he returned earlier in the movie, encouraging him that he is a good son and brother. this shows that these brothers have very similar insecurities about their value to their family.

the rest of the movie plays out as you expect, they go save leo, they stop the bad guy, they reconcile and behave as the team they're supposed to be. but i just want to point out that the villains plot is mirrored in leo and raph's conflict. the 'villain' here is a brother who has been cursed to be immortal without his own siblings. for 3000 years he lived to regret his actions and decided to undo his curse, but he used the cursed stone versions of his siblings to do so. no communication, just thinking he knew better (which maybe he did) and lying about it. that caused them to lie to him right back, and try to overthrow him and destroy the world. this is just one family whose inner turmoil could have destroyed the world. you might say, oh that's not a very interesting turtles villain, but its not supposed to be. its not the focus.

this movie is all about the complicated relationship between a family, and i see so many people talk about it by trying to ask who's right and who's wrong. that's not how it works. life is more complicated than that, people are more complicated than that. its boring to look at this movie and just say "leo is wrong and raph is right" because that's not even how the characters see it. this movie is about leo and raph being mirrors of each other in their arrogance, in their insecurities, and in their stubborn pig-headed refusal to let the other know how they feel. splinter says as much at the start of the movie. this whole movie shows that without each other, they need to be fighting something so they don't get swept up by their own emotions, which they are both bad at processing. they are SUCH brothers. they are so similar emotionally, yet they have such a hard time understanding each other.

personally 07 leo is my favourite leo for his complexity, his flaws his strength, his growth. its sad we never got those sequel movies to get into the other brothers heads as much as we got into leo and raphs heads.

also nolan north and james arnold taylor gave the best vocal performances in this movie and they deserve all the credit for it.

[venomous-qwille]

hi qwille!!! I got questions for u! you have lots of characters planned out, and that’s super cool! but how do u usually go about that process? like all your characters are very unique, and I wonder about the design process, as well as how you make their personality distinct! how do you make character dynamics/relationships? because all the scenes I’ve read so far make the characters feel really organic, and mesh really well together! (sorry for all the questions! I’m super curious ^w^)

Hiya! Here is an answer I wrote for this question on discord recently ^^

I will try answer this as thoroughly as possible!

There was a LOT of kill your darlings involved in making characters for gitm. Originally I had a very long list of character ideas that I cut down and down based on the kind of things and themes they would give me the opportunity to write about. I love long ensemble cast stories, thinking back to ones I particularly enjoyed and the ways those characters gelled together helped me a lot. The most important thing when selecting characters was making sure they would give me something interesting to write about! I was also very keen on ones that let me explore the fics main theme of Family from a different angle. I'm not sure how helpful this all is! But yeah, I try to be pretty strict with myself about what I include. The only reason I would include two characters who were very very similar would be to emphasize a difference/divergence between them later on. Characters have to justify themselves by bringing something unique to the table, even if that thing is just a 'very different outlook on life' to the rest of the cast. Over time a lot of those character ideas became more fleshed out in my brain, and characters that were cut from the original shortlist made their way back in. They still have to be able to narratively justify themselves in order to earn a channel in the discord though!

For the gitm guys, while I dont have a literal sheet I fill out I do make sure to answer a couple of basic character work questions: What lie do they believe about themselves/the world? How does it impact the way they interact with others? What central theme do they embody most? What do they want more than anything else? How do they feel about humans? Who are they at their best and who are they at their worst? I found that by answering these sort of questions it helped me discover more about them, which creates more questions- rinse and repeat. The more questions I answered the further away they would get from each other in terms of similarities. The thing that really helped with the gitm boys, especially because their origins are so similar, was leaning in to how different their experiences were post-fazco. They are different people because the world has made them that way. Messing around with foils has been useful too! Characters are no fun in a vacuum, it's how they interact with others that makes them interesting. I like to create ones that will bring out the best and the worst in each other. I think about opposites a lot and I really like narrative symmetry- what lessons can the characters learn from each other? I find that stuff super exciting to read so I really wanted to include it. Some examples of character foils in gitm: Fool & Noon, Sombra & Sunspot, Misuta & Sol

When it comes to finding character voice, I do a lot of test drabbles (a couple of them are on this server), which I use to just fuck around until I find something that feels right. For instance- Sol was very very easy to find the voice of, where as Misuta took weeks of rewrites. Sometimes things take time. Spending this time figuring out their voices at the start really helps fic consistence in the long run, I think. Because of all that prep, I don't really have to do anything to 'get into character' when writing their dialogue (it's fairly second nature now).

In regards to coming up with a character's arc, I look at them and their themes and ask 'what the fuck happened to you, dude?' and then 'how has that entrenched a faulty world view on you?' 'what could you be driven to do because of that world view/misunderstanding?' 'what would it take to fix this world view/misunderstanding?' (the last question is the most important one!). Then voila, you have a very loose framework of a (hopepunk) character arc.

In regards to the actual planning of the fic/character arcs, I have a very big miro board (pic attached) that I use for all this! Most of the major character beats are marked out separately to plot beats etc etc. There are still a bunch of bits that only reside in my brain, but I do try to add them to my plan as soon as they become any kind of concrete. All of the characters also have a background chapter (or rather, a series of chapters that form a short story) attached to their arc, that will recontextualise everything you have learned about them so far! I am so deeply looking forward to dropping these (I already have quite a lot written).

I would say that- for your question on character relationships- the answer does come down to being really specific about what you include. Make sure characters are meaningfully different from eachother, give them goals and experiences that clash and then force them to live/work together in the same space. If you have put time into building your characters before that, then you just need to create opportunities for them to get into conflict and bring out the best/worst in eachother. I really do believe that characters are quite boring in a vacuum- which is why I put so much emphasis on including narrative foils ^^ Tyvm for the ask <3

[neontokyoo]

Could I request first kiss between halsin and tav? She has no experience and he decides to teach her. >///q///<

I apologize, I used AI to write this one because even I don’t know how to kiss. It’s one of those things where I just do it and don’t even have to think about it so I literally had to sit down and take notes so I could learn how to explain the process for the sake of the story. So I started writing on my own and then tumblr crashed and erased everything I had written down so I gave up because I ain’t playing these games today.

Anyway, I apologize in advance! If you want me to rewrite it and try again just let me know 😭

Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Genre: fluff

Summary: Halsin teaches his innocent virgin girlfriend how to kiss.

Warnings: I lost patience and took the small bits of my own writing I was able to save and made AI finish it. Perfection is not guaranteed, let me know if I need to fix anything that’s out of character or just doesn’t go with the bg3 setting.

Like this post? Join my community!

Under a sky dimmed by twilight, Halsin and Tav find a quiet spot in the forest, away from the world. The gentle hum of nature surrounds them, creating an intimate cocoon. Halsin looks at Tav with a mix of warmth and tenderness, sensing her nervousness. "If you’re willing," he says softly, "I’d like to guide you through this."

He reaches out, brushing a stray hair from her face. As he leans in, he pauses, giving Tav a chance to meet his gaze, ensuring she's comfortable. With a reassuring smile, he explains, "A kiss is a shared moment, a connection of hearts."

Halsin's fingertips linger on Tav's cheek, his touch gentle and nurturing. He closes the gap between them, their faces inches apart. His breath caresses her lips, warm and inviting. "First, close your eyes," he whispers, "Let your senses heighten, feel the anticipation."

Tav obeys, her lids fluttering shut. She can hear the beating of her heart, the rustling of leaves, and the soft rustling of his cloak. Halsin's breath brushes her lips once more as he continues, "Now, tilt your head, just slightly, to meet my lips."

As she follows his instruction, their lips meet in the softest caress. It's a feather-light touch, a promise of more to come. "Relax your mouth," Halsin directs her, "Let it open just a touch, to receive mine."

Tav complies, her lips parting ever so slightly. Halsin's lips press against hers, a tender dance of two souls seeking harmony. As they kiss, he coaxes her, "Gently, explore my mouth with your tongue. Taste me as I taste you."

Tav hesitates, then, with newfound courage, flicks her tongue out to touch his. Halsin's own tongue slides over hers, a gentle, loving stroke. The kiss deepens, their mouths entwining, a sweet dance of two hearts coming together.

As their lips part, Halsin lifts his head, their eyes locking once more. "You've done beautifully," he whispers, pride and love evident in his gaze. "A kiss, like nature, is a delicate balance. Treasure this moment, for it is a sacred one."

Tav's cheeks flush with a blush, her heart swelling with warmth. As they pull away from one another, the forest around them seems to hum in approval, the shadows and leaves bearing witness to their first, sweet kiss.

[celerydays]

Hi! I have been following you for some time and I notice you draw more and more Sebastian and Ominis doing stuff that makes me... uncomfortable.....

Sebastian and Ominis are best friends, why people are obsessed with drawing them into weird gay stuff? Seriously.... Why can't be friends.... without all Sebinis... Just stop it...

Normally I would delete messages or simply ignore the things that make me feel uncomfortable–

But, you're on anon and this is my ask inbox, so I can only assume you want an actual, public response. So alright. Fine.

Like I said: normally I would just remove odd, uncomfortable, or even outright rude messages without making a whole thing of it. I curate my own online experience and I try my best to live by that rule.

However, I've now gotten multiple unsolicited DMs over the course of a couple of months expressing the exact same sentiment (and nearly word-for-word as this ask, so I highly suspect I already know who you are). I have duly ignored or glossed over them hoping that the person/people would take the hint to simply stop engaging with the same message over and over again. But an anon ask is my last straw, I guess.

So if you are the same person as in my DMs, I'm finally giving you a response (and if you're not the same person – which I highly doubt – then I'm speaking to both of you).

Firstly, I want to say that I am sorry that your worldview is so limited that this is your stance and feelings on gay/queer ship content for Sebastian and Ominis.

Next, I ask that you please:

Don't make your homophobia anyone else's issue but your own. Don't come into DMs/ask inboxes/comments to make your discomfort with the content I create my problem. I don't know what you hoped to accomplish by sending this message but it's unlikely that you'll find the same feelings or sympathy from the person who is actively creating queer/sebinis content.

Curate your own online experience. Once again, do not make your content consumption anyone else's problem but your own. The "unfollow" button is there. Tumblr has a tag filtering system and I try to tag my art and content as accurately as possible. If you do not like something/it makes you uncomfortable, then do not continue to consume it. And if you still decide to stick around for whatever reason, then please keep your thoughts/opinions on this matter to yourself because I can promise that I don't actually care why you would continue to be here and looking at my art if it makes you unhappy.

Widen your worldview and try to reframe your perspective. Consider that Sebastian x Ominis is just as canon as Sebastian x f!MC or Ominis x f!MC. As much as we like to ship our various MCs with the canon characters, MC never actually amounts to canonically being confirmed as anything but being just friends with everyone. Using the "they are just best friends" / "why can't they just be portrayed only as friends" could literally be applied to just about any other non-canon/non-confirmed ship between friends regardless of gender. If even one of them, Ominis or Sebastian, was portrayed as cis female in canon, I would suspect that you would better "understand" why a ship between these two "friends" may exist. Then also consider a cis male MC; it's possible you may suddenly reframe all the interactions between Ominis x m!MC or Sebastian x m!MC in your head to be "totally platonic/friendly". Your issue is certainly not with their canon relationship vs. fandom portrayal (but I think we both know that).

Educate yourself. Go outside and meet and talk to people, I dunno. It is 2024 my dude. I don't even know how you're on Tumblr – the most queer-friendly social media site – with those kind of narrowed views and stigma.

I would like to finish by saying: I don't wish you the best. What I do wish is for you to learn, grow, and be better than this.

And also please stop sending me messages of this nature, because the next ask or DM I get like this, we're moving on to blocking at this point. And if your purpose was to get me to stop, I can tell you that these messages have only fueled the explicit sebinis smut maker in me. 😤

[leonawriter]

Thinking about the engine room again, and how the difference between Akechi living (wanting to live) and dying (being satisfied with this sort of end) isn't how invested he is in Joker, but how invested Joker is in him.

Although he instigated the confidant, and although in vanilla he constantly kept seeking Akira out, it's only in Royal's max confidant that he has the impetus to fight back.

Simple thing, right?

Because the reason is even stated earlier in the same scene, that Akechi would do "[anything] just so someone would want me around!" - so if he hasn't put the effort into creating a two-sided bond with Akira before this, he feels that this need is never going to be fulfilled, and effectively that no matter how much he himself wants anyone else, no one will care about him enough for his continued life to matter.

What keeps him around, gives him the will to fight and endure on, is quite literally the promise Akira makes him. That "I'll hold onto your glove" isn't just asking for a rematch, or the "no, don't go!" that in their situation wouldn't be weird; it's the culmination of their bond expressed like that, in a way that gets Akechi to realise that someone really does want him around the same way (better than, even) he'd been searching for in all the wrong places up to then.

It's down to Akechi asking for Akira's number, Akira keeping on meeting up, and neither of them giving up on the other even when it might have been easy to. I think it's important, really, that Akechi's the one who starts it off, because in a sense he's taking a leap of faith and hoping that it pays off, especially when he seems to "not have time for" other friendships.

I'm reminded of BSD Atsushi saying "People have to be told that it's alright for them to live," and how you as the player gave no option but to do so for Akechi if you've maxed his confidant. Joker WILL give him that reason to keep fighting, one way or another, if they're close enough for him to do so.

And Akechi will go from feeling like he might as well die in this place, to realising that... for whatever reason, in ways only they can understand, he hasn't been able to push even just this one person away from him. No matter what he's done, who he's hurt, what he's said. He doesn't just have words, but an understanding of Akira's character and experiences that back up him saying "I want you alive [for our rematch], isn't that enough of a reason to stay alive?"

And, judging by the view out of the train window in the true ending, it is.

[agoddamn]

Tales of Duviri is a storybook written by Euleria Entrati for the purpose of teaching children how to handle the manic flood of emotion that comes with Void exposure.

I pose a question: why does Euleria feel so strongly about this?

Her interactions with her own children are... let's call them wanting, and dialog implies that the negative aspects of their relationship--her denigrating, controlling nature, the distrust, etc--did not begin only after the Infestation brainrot set in.

We also know that she holds her father in extremely high esteem, but Albrecht did not think much of Tales of Duviri (see: him talking about his previous disdain for it in his own Duviri notes). Euleria put resources into writing Tales of Duviri instead of more traditional science, and Albrecht did not think much of it.

So why did Euleria write Tales of Duviri?

Let's rewind a step. Void exposure-induced mania, the whole thing Tales of Duviri is written to help manage.

How was that discovered and studied? It clearly was studied, enough to be a recognized condition and for the Orokin to build the iso vaults and for Euleria to write Tales of Duviri. But who would they have observed this mania in if Void research was an abandoned dead-end line of study?

Perhaps...the man obsessed with the Void who'd survived an unshielded Void dive?

Euleria had patient zero of Void mania sitting at her dinner table. Albrecht is the character who's undoubtedly had the most Void exposure.

Albrecht himself must have exhibited the Void mania and mood swings that Tales of Duviri exists to teach caution of.

And that's why Euleria wrote it; she had this gyroscope of a mood swing at home. She admired Albrecht too much to consciously deride his lack of control as irresponsible and so she channeled her energy into writing Tales of Duviri instead.

The emotion spirals of Duviri are loosely based off of what Euleria witnessed in the Entrati household and particularly Albrecht himself.

I don't believe that any courtier is a 1:1 translation of a member of the Entrati household, but more that their toxic interactions and dramatic heights reflected things that Euleria herself saw--or lived.

This reading of the Duviri characters and story--that they mean things to Euleria specifically--gives us a fun new lens to look at all of the chapters with.

For example, Mathila.

"Two children, and no memory of her husband. Poor Mathila."

Two children like Euleria herself, eh?

Mathila loved her husband. He also textually does not exist. He's not on the screen or in the text. He is a memory, and one that Mathila herself cannot even remember. There is no portrayal of their love.

Pivot to a writer's perspective. You need to write a loving relationship. You look to real life for inspiration, right? If you're a married woman needing to write a married woman in love, you naturally look to your own relationship.

And if you can't find anything to base that love off of? Well...move that character offscreen. Just tell about the loving relationship, don't show. Actually, do you even have anything to tell about? Well. Move the entire loving relationship offscreen, then. She's got amnesia. Nobody needs to talk about the love to sell it or make it feel real now. The narrator can simply mention it as a fact and it need not be challenged. Euleria doesn't have to imagine a loving family life between a husband and wife and their two children and question why that's hard for her. There. Problem fucking solved.

Another parallel that fairly started screaming at me once I started considering that the Duviri courtiers had meaning to Euleria specifically: Luscinia.

"I was created to be Sorrow, written into being, to serve as a lesson... can that change?"

Luscinia knows that she is a tool. As much as she dreams of being more, she knows very well that she is a tool--both a literal narrative element to teach a lesson and within the story itself Thrax's servant (his personal songbird).

Is there anyone in Euleria's life who might have some angst over their position as a tool? A servant who wants to escape the limited definitions of their role?

And so... here I am, back to my old role. The diligent servant. Albrecht would have smiled at that, I think.

Loid. It's Loid.

Luscinia: "This structure and I share much. Both of us once useful, both of us discarded, both of us now derelict. Both forgotten." Loid: "How might this relic make himself useful today?"

Both Luscinia and Loid are also capable of surprising amounts of ruthless violence. Luscinia has no hesitation telling you to kill the Dax or otherwise wreak vengeance on her jailers. Loid's Necramech lines feature him ranging from being excited for ensuing violence to coldly promising the Murmur regret.

The Duviri Tales were a subconscious form of therapy for Euleria herself as well, allowing her to write a story where emotional explosions were a problem that must be addressed rather than a social struggle to be suffered through at the whims of the more powerful.

[fttwts]

im so curious but if youre willing...what are you thoughts on sting's character? :>

You’ve just opened Pandora’s box by asking me this.

Thanks anon, you’ve just given me an excuse to rant.

I think at this point everyone’s aware of how amazing Sting’s character is. At least I hope so.

My issue is that this great and full of potential character is belittled and poorly developed by his own author.

Everything started going downhill after the Natsu VS Sting & Rogue during the GMG, honestly. I hope everyone can agree that fight was one of the worst, if not the worst fight of the whole series.

Sting is a complex character with emotional and psychological depth but no one seems to give a fuck about that and the fandom (and Mashima himself, honestly) just keeps portraying him as the over-friendly idiot Guild Master who cannot say anything without dickriding Natsu every two sentences.

But the point is, Sting literally is the better version of Natsu. He cares deeply for his guild mates and friends, he’s fun and sure of himself but not in the obnoxious way Natsu is, he expresses his insecurities and doubts about not being good enough as Master despite him being very confident in his abilities, and that just shows you how much more psychologically developed he is.

And all of that goes to waste, because every time Mashima writes a good character he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with them.

Sting’s magic is holy, divine, centered around light and purity, yet it gets downplayed as “oh yeah he can eat white things lol” ???

“White Dragon Slayer” does not make any fucking sense bro. Why not just make him the Holy Dragon Slayer? Was that so hard?

I hate how he’s thought of as ‘dumb’ by the majority of the fandom. He’s not fucking dumb. He’s smart and capable. His strategy on the last day of the GMG was solid and he could’ve easily won the games but of course Fairy Tail has to always get everything.

And apparently everyone keeps forgetting that he fucking killed a man?? He literally murdered Jiemma. Something that has rarely happened in this manga. He took his place as Guild Master by executing him and putting an end to his tyranny. Something as deep and impactful as that gets completely shadowed in order to make Fairy Tail look good. It’s not fair.

And the fact that he seemed so chill about Future Rogue murdering him? I think that should’ve at least created some tension between him and Rogue because it’s just normal. Instead, Sting’s thoughts about that whole situation aren’t even addressed. Which is infuriating, considering that he’s a major part of it.

Sometimes I wish I could just rewrite this whole fucking manga myself.

My point is, I love Sting. I love his depth, his magic, his complexity. But I fucking hate how he gets downplayed over and over again by Mashima and the fandom in order to make more boring and shallow characters shine.

[therhythmafterthesummer]

A Mutually Beneficial Agreement (M) ~Bang Chan | [2/3]

Pairing: Demon!Chan x AFAB.Reader Themes: Supernatural AU | Angst | Smut | Some fluff Word Count: ~14k | AO3 Synopsis: Your favourite demon seemed to be full of surprises, some you could more than get used to, but others that… you weren’t sure you could get used to at all. [You can find part 1 of this story here]. Warnings: religious themes · pet names · alcohol consumption · harassment (it’s kinda mild but still yucky) · corporate bullshit · there’s a lot of focus on the reader’s feet, but not in that way · graphic depictions of intercourse (smut warnings under the cut).

Author’s Note: because i am incapable of being normal, here’s a part 2 to what was supposed to be a fun little one shot. especial thanks to @notastraykid and @decembermoonskz for reading this before anyone else and sharing their very valuable feedback with me💜

Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.

< Part 1 | Part 3 >

Smut Warnings: literal monster cock · oral [F.Rec] · rimming [F.Rec] · unprotected penetration [piv] (the reader is presumed to be on birth control) · lack of aftercare (due to unforeseen events. you know i don’t write my Christophers like that, but i figured i should give a warning for those of you that get triggered or feel yucky after reading something like this).

Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.

The marble wall was cool against your back, a complete contrast to the heat against your torso. A thin sheen of sweat was starting to coat your skin, enough that the friction produced between your back and the wall with each movement was starting to become uncomfortable, but, being honest, it was hard to register it. It was hard to care about it at all.

The place was cool around you, yet you were burning up. You couldn’t keep your eyes open, all you could do was hold onto his shoulders, trusting him enough to not let you fall while he held you in his arms and took you wholly, right there against the wall, right here on sacred land.

There were pants and heavy breaths and quiet moans mingling with the sound of frogs croaking somewhere outside. They were always loud at this time of the night, loud enough that you could hear their symphony in here.

Plush lips were attached to your collarbone, gently nibbling and sucking on the thin skin. The attention alone easily pulled desperate whines out of your mouth, but, coupled with his calculated thrusts, it all had your mind completely melting into a puddle.

You clawed at his back, sometimes ruffling the dark feathers under your fingertips. He’d always shiver whenever you touched him here, especially towards the base of the appendages. 

He was so good.

He was so, so good, and you just loved him so much. More than you’d ever loved the sun. 

You were convinced meeting him was the best thing to ever happen to you. He was warm and caring and just absolutely everything. He’d become your everything. 

His presence soothed you, his displays of affection made you feel full, he managed to satisfy you in ways you’d only ever dreamt of, and he simply made you feel things you’d never felt before.

How could you possibly need anything else? 

You didn’t.

You just needed him.

His pace was relentless, his tail wrapped around your thigh, just because it could, and you vaguely realised you’d been caressing one of the horns on his head along with his feathered appendages. His wings enveloped you both, shielding you from the outside world, they provided a warm, safe cocoon just for the two of you.

Against everything you’d been taught, against every single belief you’d been indoctrinated into, you simply adored him. 

When he pulled away from your neck, you couldn’t help but open your eyes. He looked at you like you were the sun. Like he adored you. 

Staring into that gentle brown, you could feel that pool of arousal in the pit of your stomach steadily filling up, you could feel yourself falling deeper and deeper into this seemingly endless lake of lov–

Your body jolted at the sound of your alarm.

You hated alarms. You needed them, but you always hated them. Sleep was precious to you, it let you disconnect from the world around you, it recharged you, which was exactly what you had needed before you took this nap earlier this afternoon.

Tonight was important, so of course you set up your alarm, even if you hated it. You couldn’t just sleep it off and miss everything, not after weeks and weeks of planning.

As you sat up on your bed and stretched your limbs, you could feel warmth all around you. You dreamt often, several times a week since the day you gained awareness. However, you could never remember your dreams. Whenever you woke up, it seemed like that feeling of warmth was all you had left.

It almost made you feel… sad. Or, maybe a better word to describe the emotion you felt would be melancholy. Why you felt this way, though, you weren’t sure.

No point in dwelling on it. Tonight was the big company event you’d been waiting to attend for months now. You were hoping to do some networking, to make acquaintances with some of the higher-ups, so you had to look and act your absolute best to achieve that.

A good scrubbing, and a scalding-hot shower later, you stood in front of your bed, staring at the two outfits you had splayed out on top of your duvet. A bright red dress, very short, very… slutty. It would certainly drive attention to yourself, which was kind of what you wanted, but would that be the type of attention you needed? Your friend had told you any attention was good attention, but was it really?

The other dress was a bit more modest. Royal blue, with the tiniest bit of sparkles sprinkled all throughout. It wasn’t as short, but it had a slit that was high enough to drive attention, while also sitting low enough for it to not be too much. It was honestly your preferred option. You’d worn it before, you knew you looked good in it, and you felt fairly comfortable wearing it.

So you did.

Eye make-up to match and a lipstick to contrast adorned your face. You started putting on your jewellery, trying on different options to make sure you wore the most suitable accessories.

As you did, the energy in your room shifted. The air got thick, in that exact way that made you dizzy, that almost made your knees buck under the pressure.

“Oh? Going somewhere, pretty thing?”

Of course Chris would choose the worst possible night to appear in your bedroom… Of course just his presence and the sound of his voice would light up your insides like a Christmas tree.

“I am”, you replied simply, fastening your earrings before you finally turned to look at him.

Chris sat cross-legged on your bed, barefoot, clad in that flowy, hanbok-like, silky suit he always wore. The colour matched his eyes, black, barely even reflecting light.

Placing his hands behind him, Chris leaned back and looked at you. You could feel his gaze trailing your form, from the crown of your head to the tip of your toes.

He seemed to be fixated on the silver ring you’d put on one of your toes for a moment, right before he returned his eyes to yours and offered you a smirk.

“You look good”, his tail unravelled from where it'd been resting around his waist, and the tip of it started to mindlessly trace the side of his thigh.

A smile spread across your face. “You think so?”

With a slow twirl, you offered him the full three-sixty view of your outfit. By the time you were looking at him again, his tail had fully wrapped around his thigh.

“I do. It’s a shame that such a pretty dress will be torn to pieces soon”.

You clicked your tongue at him disapprovingly, placing your hands on your hips. “This was an expensive dress, you know? Unless you can replace it, I won’t give you consent to do it”.

As the words left your mouth, a pout formed on Chris’ lips. It honestly made him look… adorable. What an odd gesture for a demon to make, but you had long since stopped trying to understand his ways.

“So it’s your work thing, huh?” Chris un-crossed his legs, letting them fall from the edge of your bed to plant his feet on the floor. While he was still leaning on his hands, with his legs spread like this, a small–and very horny–part of your brain started urging you to get on your knees. But you just… ignored it.

It still surprised you that Chris remembered these things. You vaguely recalled telling him about this a couple of weeks ago, right before you fell asleep after hours and hours of letting him have his way with you. Sometimes, the things he remembered about you made you wonder what he did when he wasn’t here. Did he just have a supernatural photographic memory, or did he truly care? You never really got the courage to ask…

“Mm. Tonight’s the big event”, you briefly looked at the clock on your bedside table. You had to leave soon, otherwise you might get stuck in traffic, which could possibly ruin your plans for the night.

Chris just hummed in acknowledgement, but he didn’t say anything else. You didn’t, either. You simply walked towards your bed, and, ignoring that sudden urge to straddle him and settle yourself on his lap, you sat down next to him before you reached for your heels.

The heels matched your jewellery, they weren’t necessarily comfortable, but they certainly went well with this dress. You slipped one of them on, and just before you started wrapping the long straps around your heel, Chris moved.

“Let me”, he mumbled, kneeling in front of you and taking the straps out of your hands.

It was honestly insane how the mere contact of his fingers on yours made your heart skip a beat. You supposed it made sense, considering who he was, or, more accurately, what he was, considering what you often did together… 

Slowly, gently, Chris started wrapping the straps around your heel, making his way up your leg. You just looked at him, alternating your focus between the horns protruding from his skull, to the features of his face, and to his hands diligently working your heels.

“Tonight I might not be… I might not have enough energy for, uh… Y’know”, for you to fuck me until I can’t remember my name, would’ve been an accurate statement, but you honestly felt like saying it out loud would trigger something. It wouldn’t have been the first time you missed an appointment you had because you’d said something similar…

Chris chuckled, finally tying a knot to keep the straps in place just below your knee. Thankfully, he’d used enough pressure for them to be secure around your leg, but not enough to cut your circulation. 

His attention shifted to the other leg. Holding your ankle, he eased the matching heel on your foot before he started repeating the motions with the straps of this one. 

Chris was working very slowly. Almost as if he was dragging out the moment…

You realised he was, in fact, stalling, the moment you felt his lips on your shin. Saliva started pooling in your mouth at the sight and the feel of his lips on your skin. His eyes were closed, but he was somehow still performing his task with ease, all as he pressed lingering kisses up your shin, until he reached your knee.

For a moment, your subconscious was screaming at you, telling you to open your legs and let him ease himself right in between them, but, not only could you not let that happen right now, it also didn’t seem like that was Chris’ goal. On the contrary, his lips stopped at your knee, right before he opened his eyes and looked up at you.

If you looked hard enough, you could’ve sworn you could see stars swimming in the endless darkness that were his eyes.

“It’s okay, sweetheart”, his lips brushed against your skin with every word, and, somehow, that was the moment you started to feel your cheeks heating up. “I’ll be honest, it’s not like I’m thrilled about it, especially not after seeing you like this, all dolled up… But it’s fine. You’ve got your own life to live, after all”.

A gentle smile made its way to his face. It seemed to contrast with his overall look, with his horns and the void in his eyes and just his aura in general… But, somehow, it still felt genuine. It always did with Chris.

You swallowed the saliva that had pooled in your mouth, and it wasn’t until Chris looked away from your face to focus on tying the straps of your heel, that you were finally able to look away from him to check the clock.

You sighed. “I have to go”.

With one final kiss to your shin, Chris finally let go of your leg and stood up from the floor. He offered his hand to you, you simply took it and let him pull you up from the bed before his arm wrapped around your waist and his tail found your thigh. 

You held your breath in anticipation, closing your eyes only when his free hand found your cheek. 

You felt his plush lips on your forehead, and, for a moment, you could’ve sworn you had started trembling.

Chris was so warm. His closeness made you dizzy, the way his tail tightened on your thigh made your mind wander, it made you remember what it could do, what he could do to you… 

Before you knew it, your hands were buried in his hair, and your lips were on his, savouring the taste of him on your tongue. Sweet, but not overly so. Just perfect, like the flavour had been crafted specifically to your own tastes. Chris’ hold on your body tightened, and the moment his tongue made contact with your lips you simply let him in, because why wouldn’t you? 

You figured a small treat couldn’t hurt… As long as you didn’t let him get you out of your dress, as long as you managed to pull yourself away from him within the next five minutes, it should be fine. You deserved this much.

A few moments passed. Moments where all you could register was both halves of his tongue and his lips and his warmth. But then he pulled away from your lips. You mindlessly chased after him, because you just wanted more. You really, really deserved it. You needed it.

Chris just pulled back a bit more, fixing his eyes on your lips before he pressed his thumb to your lower lip. He swiped over the plump, moist flesh, and his eyebrows furrowed the tiniest bit.

“This is some good-ass lipstick. Not even a single smudge…”

He sounded genuinely annoyed by it, and it honestly made you chuckle. “Maybe they should add demon-proof as a selling point”.

Chris chuckled at that. With a shake of his head, he returned his gaze to your eyes, just as he pushed his thumb inside your mouth. You gladly accepted it, gently sucking it further in as you slowly ran your tongue over the pad of it. 

“I’ll drop by later to check in on you anyway, alright?”

You hummed in agreement, letting his thumb fall out of your mouth. He could drop by at any time, regardless of how inconvenient it could be. Honestly, you wanted him to drop by… You just hoped you did have enough energy left later in the evening.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but whatever he was going to say died on his tongue, cut off by the shrill of one of your trillion alarms resonating in your bedroom. 

With a deep breath, you finally let go of him. His tail loosened from where it’d been holding onto your thigh, finally moving away from you completely as you started to walk away. It left the faint imprint of snakeskin behind, and the area started to redden as well. Quite noticeably, if you might add.

You weren’t sure if you were mad about it or not.

With one final look at yourself in the mirror to fix your hair and make sure your make-up had, in fact, not smudged, you finally took your clutch from where you’d placed it on your dresser hours ago. 

“I’ll see you later, then”, was the last thing you told Chris before you left your room, trying to ignore the odd–and completely out of place–empty feeling that started to settle in the pit of your stomach.

Two hours into the event were enough to remind you why you usually didn’t attend these things. Yes, you’d managed to make yourself known to some important people, you’d done exactly what you came here to do, but you were starting to wonder if it had been worth the hassle at all.

Your lower back was screaming at you, your feet ached, and suddenly sitting at the bar and drinking a few cocktails sounded like the only possible thing that could keep you from ripping your jewellery and heels off of your body. The music blaring through the speakers didn’t help one bit, it seemed like happy hour had started, and people were going absolutely crazy on the dancefloor.

Good for them.

Not good for your overstimulated senses, though. 

You hoped that at the very least, the next time you applied for a higher position, you wouldn’t have to go through so many hoops to get it. You were good at your job, better than some of the people in power in this company, but ultimately, knowing someone important would always give you the upper hand.

It was detrimental to your financial independence. More money meant less time paying that debt that seemed to always be looming over your head. If only your mother hadn’t done what she did, maybe you wouldn’t have to be working here at all…

“Can I offer you a drink, pretty thing?”

You felt your skin crawl at the voice resonating next to you. Turning your head, you found your sleazy co-worker deep into your personal space. He reeked of alcohol and tobacco, and you honestly hated it.

You hated him in general. He was always inappropriate, misogynistic, and condescending. Unfortunately, the man was kind of smart, as in, there was no physical proof of his unacceptable behaviour, which was exactly why Human Resources never took you seriously when you reported him.

Swaying the glass in your hand the tiniest bit, you silently let him know you already had a drink. You hoped he’d take the hint, but clearly, he didn’t. He stood over you, with that disgusting smile on his face, waiting for your answer.

“No, thank you. I’m drinking something already”, you took a sip of your drink, trying to ignore his existence altogether.

“What about a dance? Mm?” He placed his clammy hand on your bare shoulder. God, you wanted it gone immediately. “I’m sure this lovely dress you’re wearing would look great on the dancefloor”.

You were two seconds away from throwing your drink at him. For a brief moment, you debated on doing it. On one hand, you’d give him a very assertive message, maybe it would stop him from making advances at you altogether. But, on the other hand, that’d cause a scene, and you weren’t sure you were ready for that kind of attention. It could jeopardise the good impressions you’d made tonight…

“Ah, there you are. Everything alright, sweetheart?”

Your eyes widened in shock, and your head snapped in the direction of the familiar voice. The shock wasn’t only due to his presence, it wouldn’t have been the first time that Chris randomly popped up around you when you were out and about, but, usually, he appeared only for you to see. 

Looking at him right now, it was clear that this wasn’t one of those cases. 

His hand found the small of your back, the gentle warmth emanating from his palm was a complete contrast to the stuffy feeling of your co-worker’s hand on your shoulder. Even if Chris looked different, there was no denying who he was, there was just no doubt in your mind. You could feel the familiar feeling of butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you stared at him, even when he looked this… normal.

There were no horns on his head, and his hair had been straightened. There was no tail dragging behind him, and, most shockingly, there was no darkness in his eyes, they were just… brown. Regular brown eyes, like any other man could have.

But… Chris wasn’t any other man.

“Who the hell are you?” After giving Chris a once over, and after noticing the undeniable proximity he had to you, your co-worker removed his hand from your body, but not without letting his fingertips graze your skin as he did.

The motion was repulsive, like the rest of him was. It had you almost gagging, but you tried your best to contain yourself, you didn’t particularly feel like displaying any emotion that could be used against you. Because, even if he was the harasser, you knew he was more than capable of turning any blame on you.

Chris offered the man a friendly smile, one that, quite honestly, didn’t really reach his eyes. “Oh, I’m just the plus one”, he gestured to you with his head, moving his hand from the small of your back to instead wrap his arm around your waist.

You’d learnt with time that Chris was a very… territorial creature. You supposed it made sense that he’d consider you part of said territory, all things considered.

“I–I didn’t know you had a boyfriend”, your co-worker looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, it almost felt like he was reprimanding you, like he was implying you had somehow cheated on him for having a ‘boyfriend’.

Chris wasn’t your boyfriend, though. He was… He definitely was… Well, he was someone in your life, that much was certain.

Before you could even speak, Chris had opened his mouth. “We like to keep things private, and between friends only”.

Your co-worker just scoffed, mumbling something to himself. Chris took the opportunity to speak again. “Fancy a drink? What do you like? Vodka? Whiskey?”

The man was clearly taken aback, but he answered anyway. “Rum”.

“Rum it is, then”, Chris signalled the bartender and asked for two glasses of rum, all without removing his arm from your body. If anything, he seemed to be getting even closer to you.

You almost wanted to roll your eyes. What an absurd exchange this all was… You’d never been too fond of overprotective men getting into your business, but, you’d have to admit… It felt a bit different when that overprotection came from someone like Chris.

They both started talking about nonsensical things. Topics you weren’t really interested in. You honestly preferred for it to be this way, you’d come to the bar to try and enjoy some peace, after all. At least, the music had started to lower in volume, and the songs being played seemed to be getting slower and calmer as the minutes went by.

When the bartender came back with Chris’ order, the demon finally let go of your waist so he could take both glasses in his hands. You blinked a bit as you watched him give one of the glasses to your co-worker. For a moment, you could’ve sworn the liquid had turnt much darker than the one in Chris’ glass.

You didn’t have enough time to focus on it too much, though. Your co-worker downed the rum in one ungracious gulp, making you scrunch your nose in distaste. 

Chris gave you a small smile before he returned his eyes to the man in front of you both, taking a single sip of his drink. His eyes were different than usual, but you could see mischief dancing in them.

For a moment, you wished his attention was on you again, instead of that idiot stumbling in front of you.

After a few more words that you didn’t quite hear, your co-worker finally said his goodbyes.

Good fucking riddance… 

The friendly mask crumbled off of Chris’ face as soon as the man started to walk away. He stared daggers at his back until he got lost in the sea of people. You supposed you shared the sentiment, but that didn’t really make any of this make one bit of sense.

“Done showing your feathers, you all-mighty peacock?” You couldn’t help but say before you brought your glass to your lips to take a sip.

Chris’ eyes returned to yours, chuckling as he brought his hand to your shoulder, to place it right where your co-worker had earlier. Your body’s reaction was completely different this time around, though. A shiver threatened to rush up your spine, but not out of disgust. Quite the opposite, actually.

“What? You know very well this doesn’t even come close to me showing my feathers”, Chris’ fingers found your ear, he caressed your earlobe with his thumb and index finger, further agitating the flying critters in your belly. “Besides, that would imply I felt threatened by that guy. If anything, his vibe just pissed me off”. 

“Fair enough”, you shrugged, drinking what was left of your cocktail before you settled the glass on the bar. “Now, enlighten me, please. Why the hell are you here?”

Chris looked at you for a few seconds, before a smile spread on his lips. “Dance with me and I’ll tell you”.

Your eyes went wide in surprise. It seemed like that was Chris’ mission tonight, to completely surprise you. 

The music had finally settled to slower rhythms, you glanced at the dancefloor, only to find couples dancing to the intimate tunes. It was nowhere near as packed as it’d been before you came to the bar, but there were still enough people that you would blend in just fine, so you figured there was no harm in humouring him. “Fine. Let’s dance, then”.

Chris offered his hand to you, which you accepted. He guided you to the dancefloor, leaving his barely touched glass of rum completely forgotten on the wooden surface of the bar.

Your feet were still aching, but you felt fine enough to handle a couple of dances. Deep down, you genuinely just wanted to enjoy this one in a million opportunity. This wasn’t something you did often. When would you ever get the chance again to dance with someone you were so intimately connected to?

As soon as you made it to the dancefloor, Chris placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you flush against his body. You just followed his movement, moulding yourself to his body, holding onto his shoulder and his hand as if they would be the only thing to keep you swaying your hips to the gentle music.

He was always so goddamn warm… His presence enticed you, just like it always did. Even with this… odd look of his, you could still feel the effect his energy had on you.

“You look so weird”, you mumbled in his ear as you continued to follow the music. Chris chuckled softly, lowering his hand the tiniest bit on your lower back. “Don’t get me wrong, you still look handsome. But… ‘suppose I’ve gotten used to seeing your true form”.

“You think I look handsome in my true form?” There was a teasing lilt in his words, and, somehow, it amused you.

“‘Course I do. Wouldn’t let you fuck me if it weren’t the case”.

You felt Chris’ sharp intake of breath next to your ear, and his hands tightened their hold around you. “Don’t make me think about fucking you, pretty. I might end up taking you right here if you do”.

You scoffed a bit, with no real malicious intent in the gesture. “Be honest with me, do you need me to bring attention to it for you to think about fucking me?”

“Ah, you caught me”, Chris chuckled softly. As you danced, he pressed a lingering kiss on your cheek, right before he mumbled, “Maybe I think about you a little too much”.

Those simple words immediately kick-started your heartbeat. How foolish of you to let his words affect you like this… Chris was a demon. The demon you’d summoned in a moment of weakness. He was just that, nothing more. “Is that so?”

“Mm…” Chris’ hum vibrated against your cheek, it almost felt like it was penetrating into your skin and rattling your insides. 

There was barely any space between your bodies, you occasionally looked around you to make sure no one was paying too much attention to you, but for the most part the only thing you could truly focus on was the melody floating in the air, and Chris’ presence all over you. 

“Why do you think I keep coming back for more?”

That had you inhaling a shaky breath.

This was nothing.

It meant nothing at all.

It was just Chris playing into your deepest desires, giving you what you needed, what you’d asked for from him. You were well aware of that, but… sometimes, you kind of wanted to believe there was truly more to it.

“Is that why you’re here tonight, then?” Your lips ghosted over his skin when you asked the question, just because you had wanted them to. You wanted to feel his smooth, heated skin, and if you couldn’t have your hands on his bare body because of his perfectly tailored deep blue, almost black suit, you might as well make do with his cheek.

“Pretty much. I was already up here, so I decided to stick around”, you were sure Chris was close to straight up placing his hand on your bum with how he kept moving it a bit further down as time passed, but, at this point, you didn’t care about stopping him at all. “As creepy as it might sound, on the days that I can, I find myself around you quite often. I just never make my presence known”.

You pulled yourself away from him a bit so you could look him in the eyes, completely perplexed. 

Chris chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t worry, pet. I only do it in public places. I don’t follow you to private spaces, and if you’re at home, I just show myself”.

“As if that makes it any better, creep”, with a smirk on your face, you scoffed, tightening your hold on his shoulder as he kept guiding you in your dance.

Chris didn’t have any remark to bite back, he just smiled at you, in that way that turned his eyes into little crescents. Cute…

As you looked at him, in his tailored suit, wearing that small flower brooch which suspiciously matched the colour of your dress, with that slit in his eyebrow and his brown, very human-looking eyes, you couldn’t help but feel like you were missing something. Like there was a little gremlin in the back of your mind trying to hand you a piece of information, but it couldn’t quite find it.

“This look of yours… You look familiar”, your eyes jumped all over his face, taking in his features.

His very handsome features…

Chris blinked a bit in silence before he replied to you. “‘Course I do. I’m… well, me”.

“You do. But, y’know… That’s not what I mean”.

Chris just shrugged. “I just look like every other guy out there, probably”.

Every other guy just wouldn’t look this… this good. Besides, he did look like himself somehow, just without his demonic traits. Same face structure, same body built, but even then, there was something in his eyes that felt… oddly familiar.

You didn’t say anything else, just hummed to acknowledge him before you leaned into him to rest your cheek on his shoulder as you continued to dance.

You spent a handful of songs more on the dancefloor, until you just couldn’t ignore the many different parts of your body that were bothering you. After a simple ‘Chris… My feet hurt…’ your unexpected companion for the night took you to the closest surface you could sit on. 

Twenty minutes later, and after saying your final goodbyes to your bosses and any other relevant person you’d interacted with that night, you were in the back of an uber. With none other than Chris himself, as if he even needed a car to get places.

“Haven’t been inside one of these in decades…” Chris mumbled in your ear, just loud enough for you to hear.

You hummed to let him know you’d heard him, but it was hard to tell him anything when one of his hands had found its way into the slit of your dress, and he’d boldly placed it on your bare thigh. The way his lips pressed slow, gentle kisses on your neck, certainly didn’t make it any better.

Oh, how easy it was for him to rile you up… Sometimes he didn’t even need to do anything. A simple kiss on your pulse-point was all it took for heat to gather in the pit of your stomach.

You could tell he had no intention of dragging his hand further up your thigh than it was necessary. He simply caressed your skin up to a certain point on your inner thigh, and then squeezed a bit on his way down, again and again…

The sound of taps brought your eyes away from the sight of Chris’ hand to instead look right in front of you, where the driver was tapping a plastic board hanging from her seat. ‘No sexual activities on the backseat. The driver of this car reserves the right to deny service’.

“Oh, don’t worry, ma’am”, you tried your best to steady your voice as Chris kept kissing your neck and your shoulder, completely unbothered. “He just gets a little clingy and handsy after drinking, but he’s mostly harmless”.

A lie, but a lie you had to say to this woman. Because how else could you explain any of Chris’ habits to this stranger you would probably never see again?

The woman in front of the wheel sighed, tiredly. “Men, am I right?”

“Damn right…” You replied simply, returning your attention to Chris’ hand that seemed to be groping you with a bit more force now, but still not reaching any indecent territory.

Mostly harmless, hm? Is that so, baby?

Oh, no…

Dealing with his touch was one thing, but dealing with his touch while he spoke right into your thoughts required a completely different level of self-restraint.

With a deep breath, you crossed one leg over the other, not only trapping his hand between your thighs in hopes of hindering his movements, but also trying to get some relief from the ache that had been steadily building between your legs.

Chris’ hold on your thigh tightened all of a sudden, almost, almost making you squeal out loud. You should be given a fucking prize for how well you kept that sound inside of you.

Mmm… Wanna keep my hand stuck right here? I don’t want it to, though. If only it could be my head clamped between your thighs right now instead… Wouldn’t you like that, little human?

You closed your eyes as you felt Chris’ lips press a kiss behind your ear. With a deep breath, and a tight hold on the seat’s edge, you tried your best to keep yourself aware of your surroundings. If you gave into temptation, you just knew you wouldn’t want to be taken out of the headspace Chris would pull you into.

This was going to be a long, long ride home…

Walking into your building, hand in hand with Chris, with a human-looking Chris, was certainly not something you could say you did every day. 

What was even more unusual, was being inside the dingy, crammed lift of your way-too-old building, grabbing a fistfull of Chris’ dark hair as his lips and his tongue danced slowly against yours.

It was all so, so weird… not only the feeling of a totally normal tongue that you weren’t used to. It didn’t feel bad or wrong in any way, but it almost felt like… like you were coming home with someone after a date.

Whatever it was that happened tonight, certainly wasn’t a date. It was nowhere near close to being a date… You needed to remind yourself that Chris was not someone you’d gone on a date with. But, honestly, it was a bit hard to convince your brain of that when he held you so close by the waist, when his lips moulded so perfectly against yours that you barely heard the lift reach your floor.

Before you knew it, Chris had scooped you in his arms. You couldn’t help but yelp in surprise as you held onto his shoulders for dear life. “What’s this for?”

Chris shrugged, stepping out of the lift and walking down the corridor towards your door. “You said your feet hurt”.

You didn’t say anything, just stared at his side profile until he finally reached the door to your home. Only then did he turn to look at you, almost blinding you with the smile on his lips.

Chris… he was just way too handsome, something as simple as a smile, regardless of how he looked, was enough to have your cheeks heating up.

How silly of you…

But even more silly, was how you leaned in to press a soft kiss on his cheek, mumbling a quiet ‘Thank you’ before he finally placed you on your feet so you could open the door.

The moment your feet touched the ground you were reminded of just how much they hurt. Curse this pretty, but uncomfortable footwear…

Regardless, once you’d wiped your heels on your doormat enough times to not feel guilty about stepping into your home with shoes on–because there was just no way you could undo all these straps standing right outside your door–you simply got your keys, unlocked the front door and walked into your flat, with Chris following soon after.

When he stepped out of his shoes, they just dissolved into a dark mist, and as he took his suit jacket off, this one did, too. The motion left him shirtless, because why would he wear a shirt under his suit, when he could spend the entire night with a good chunk of his chest exposed, right?

“I’m gonna just… take my make-up off and have a quick shower”, you turned away from him and started making your way to the bathroom.

“Oh, let me help you”.

You looked back at him again, with one of your eyebrows arched on your face, questioningly. Chris just brought his hands up, giving you one of his signature wolfish grins that made your heart flutter a bit in your chest.

“Got no ulterior motives. Promise”.

He sounded genuine, like he honestly wasn’t trying to just get into your knickers. So, after a moment of consideration, you hummed in agreement, resuming your walk.

“Did you get what I suggested last time?” He asked once you were both within the echoey walls of your bathroom.

“I did. It’s already inside the shower”.

After your last… encounter, Chris had insisted you got a shower stool. ‘I can’t keep cleaning you up on the toilet like a savage! Get one of those shower stools, it’ll be easier for both of us…’ so you did. You’d admit you’d already used it, people truly disregarded how much easier it was to take a shower after a long day when you could just sit down to do it. 

Chris’ hands found your hips, and he gently caressed the swell of them as you stood in front of him. “Good. Turn around”.

You did as asked, and, slowly, he started to unzip your dress. As he did, he walked further into your personal space, not fully pressing his body to yours, but enough that his body heat enveloped you.

You could feel his lips ghost the skin of the nape of your neck before he placed a lingering kiss on it. The gesture made you swallow, it made you feel tingly all over, enough that you kind of wanted to ignore how sore you already were from the long night. You could surely survive a round…

“I’m… I’m gonna remove the glamour”, Chris mumbled against your skin, just as he finished unzipping your dress, and brought his hands to your shoulders, sliding them right under the straps. “Just giving you a heads-up”.

“Why? You think I’ll get scared?” you chuckled, just as your dress fell to the floor, leaving you in just your heels and your underwear. You carefully stepped out of it, and kicked it somewhere far from the shower’s entrance.

“Dunno… You’d been seeing me as just a regular guy for a couple of hours”, Chris expertly undid the clasps of your bra. He removed it carefully before you heard the unmistakable thud of it landing on top of fabric–on top of your dress, you presumed. “It could be kinda jarring to suddenly see me with… well, my add-ons”.

You chuckled again, bringing your hands to your breasts to gently fondle them, trying to ease some of that uncomfortable feeling that lingered after having worn a bra for too many hours.

As if his demon form could do anything other than arouse you at this point… These days, just the sight of him made you salivate like a dog; it was practically a pavlovian response at this point. 

You remained facing away from him as he slid your panties down your legs. He, obviously, didn’t waste the opportunity to place some kisses on your buttocks on his way down, a motion that was steadily turning your brain into putty.

However, he truly didn’t seem to have any… sinful intentions. Chris just asked you to lift your feet so he could take your underwear and throw it on the pile of clothes that had gathered by the entrance of the room. 

When his hands were on your waist, you finally turned to face him. 

There they were again… those eyes of his that were seemingly endless, dark and void like the night’s sky. His tail calmly swayed behind him, mindlessly dragging on the tiled floor, and his horns… You honestly felt like they just complemented his features so well.

Maybe you were just a sinful little human like he always told you…

Chris stood there, just looking at you, holding your waist while you took him in. The suit trousers were gone, he was dressed only in the silky slacks he usually wore, with his chest still on full display for your ogling eyes.

You brought your hands to his arms, feeling his skin under your fingertips as you dragged them all the way to his shoulders, where they stopped briefly before you brought them to his chest.

For a moment, you could’ve sworn his skin was getting redder wherever you touched him, but you figured it might’ve been the lighting in your bathroom.

You removed your hands from his chest only to cup his cheeks. You used them to move his head all sorts of ways. Left, right, up, down… admiring every single one of his features from every angle you could think of. He let you, of course. He always did. Chris often let you play around with his body however you wanted, and if you ever did something he didn’t like, he’d just stop you and tell you. That was part of your agreement, after all…

When you finally straightened his head so you could look directly into his eyes, you started stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “See? Not scared”.

Chris grinned at you. He bent his knees and interlocked his arms under your backside to lift you off the ground before he started walking. “Not very smart of you, is it?”

The shower door opened on its own, and Chris stepped inside with you in his arms, just so he could place you on the shower stool you’d gotten upon his request.

“You wouldn’t hurt me”, you said matter-of-factly, and, as the words left your mouth, you realised you genuinely believed them.

Chris laughed at that, reaching for the showerhead to get it off of its holder before he knelt in front of you. “Are you sure about that, pet?”

He placed the showerhead on the floor, then started undoing the straps of your heels, very, very slowly…

“If you wanted to hurt me, you would’ve done so when I let you shove your monstrous cock up my ass”, you watched as he finally removed one of your heels, and dropped it in the air for it to float out of the shower before he started undoing the other one.

“Just like I told you earlier, don’t make me think about my cock up your ass, pretty human. Not unless you want me to do it right here, right now”, he replied simply before he instructed you to take off all your jewellery while he worked your remaining heel off of you. 

You took everything off as requested. As soon as you were finished, Chris had already taken your heel and your toe ring off. He opened his palm for you to place all your accessories in, and, once you did, he just dropped them in the air for them to float out of the shower as well. 

Once he’d taken the showerhead in his hand, the tap opened on its own, it seemed to be moving behind you to adjust the temperature, while Chris let the water run over his free hand. When he’d clearly deemed it to be the right temperature, he took a hold of one of your heels and started wetting your feet. 

You couldn’t help but close your eyes and hum as soon as the water touched your skin. The warm temperature was highly appreciated, it was certainly helping ease the dull ache that you’d been feeling after standing in those stupid heels for so many hours.

Chris repeated the motions with your other foot, until your skin was wet enough to his standards, you supposed. The water flow stopped when the tap closed behind you. Your shower-gel floated from the shower caddy to his hand, so he simply uncapped it and squeezed some of the contents in his palms.

He lathered the gel between his hands a bit before he brought them to one of your feet. With gentle motions, Chris massaged your foot, working the suds on your skin.

You really, really appreciated it. It seemed to be further easing the pain, but, as you looked at him, you just couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Have you got a thing for feet?”

Chris bursted out laughing as soon as the words left your mouth, and he looked up at your face without stopping the motions of his hands. “Not particularly. You don’t think I would’ve done something about that already if I did, darling?”

You smiled at him, shrugging. “Dunno. You seem to be pretty focused on them tonight”.

Chris shook his head a bit before he returned his attention to your feet, gently placing the one in his hands on the floor before he took the other to repeat the motions. “You’ve been wearing open shoes all night, sweetheart. I’m just making sure you’re cleaned up thoroughly”.

You supposed you couldn’t argue with that. After all, you had stepped in quite the number of sticky puddles at the event, so this was probably a good idea.

As he finished up lathering your feet, and even a bit further up your legs, you were suddenly curious about something, so you asked, “Do you do this to the other people that are summoning you?”

You’d never really asked Chris about this… You’d think about it sometimes, though. How many people might be just… enjoying his company. You tried to always push the question to the deepest recesses of your mind, since it always made an uncomfortable feeling settle in the pit of your stomach. 

Which was a bit dumb on your part.

Chris wasn’t yours, that much you knew. You didn’t think he could even be yours in the first place. He was, after all, a demon.

Would you even want that? What would you even do with a demon? Other than fucking, that was.

It was a thought you honestly didn’t want to entertain. You didn’t think you had the right mind to even think about that possibility right now.

He was quiet for a moment, mindlessly massaging your calves. With a deep breath, Chris shrugged, right before he reached for the showerhead. “I only let myself be summoned by one person at a time. Last time I was summoned, I might have. But there weren’t showerheads like these back then, so it wasn’t this easy”.

Your jaw went slack. Back then, he said? Back then?!

“When was the last time someone summoned you before I did?” You just couldn’t keep the surprise from your voice, it was noticeable enough that it made Chris look up at you, while he blindly rinsed your lower legs.

“Dunno, maybe a handful of centuries ago?” He replied simply, like it was nothing.

“Centuries?!”

“That’s what I said, darling. Yes”, he chuckled, just as he stood up. “I’m gonna get you all wet alright?”

He was clearly amused by what he said, like a young boy would be after telling a dirty joke. You barely had any time to react before he was pointing the showerhead at your face, making you squeal in surprise and snapping you out of your stupor.

“Chris!” You tried to cover your face with one hand while blindly reaching for his hand.

“What?” He was… he was giggling. It wasn’t the first time you heard him giggle, but he didn’t do it as often, and, being honest, it was contagious.

“Oh, stop it! Gimme–gimme the showerhead!” You were now giggling yourself. Had it been anyone else, you might’ve been annoyed, but with Chris, you were just… amused.

Maybe you were more tired than you thought.

“Nuh-uh!”

There was a bit of back and forth, until you abruptly stood up from the stool and managed to get the showerhead from his hand. You turned it against him, making him gasp as he got drenched.

“My slacks!”

“Now you care about your slacks? They were already wet when you were touching my feet like a weirdo”, you were just teasing him, of course. You were sure the smirk on your face was enough for him to know.

For a brief moment, you saw his slacks evaporate into dark mist like the rest of his clothes had done earlier. Just for a brief moment, because almost immediately after, the showerhead disappeared from your hand and your chest was pressed to the cold tiles of your shower’s walls, so suddenly it made you gasp. 

You felt the loud smack on your buttock before you heard it. The sound bounced off of the walls, joining the unexpected moan that came out of your mouth. 

“Behave, gorgeous. Hm?” Chris was still chuckling, holding your buttock tightly in one hand, while he held the showerhead in the other, pointing the water flow at your lower back.

You turned your head to look at him, as much as you could without fully turning your body. “You started it”.

“Mm… Fair enough”, Chris pressed a brief kiss on your shoulder, before he pulled himself away from your space–as much as he could within the space of your shower. “Sit back down. We’re not finished”.

You turned around and offered him a smile before you leaned in. After pressing a quick kiss on his cheek, you brought your lips close to his ear. “Yes, sir”.

Before he could retaliate, you simply did as asked, and sat down on your stool, batting your lashes at him in feigned innocence. Chris just scoffed, and knelt in front of you once again. Right then, your make-up remover balm and gel floated inside the shower, and right into your lap. 

“Do your pretty face, I’ll take care of the rest, yeah?”

You hummed, opening the balm’s container and gathering the needed amount so you could start your skin care routine. It was kind of amusing to see him right now. Still kneeling, sometimes going into a crouch, fully naked, half-hard as he diligently lathered you up, but not really making any advances.

You weren’t really surprised, honestly. You’d already told him earlier in the evening that you probably wouldn’t be up for it, so unless you explicitly told him, you knew he wouldn’t make a real move

Even after the playful encounter, though, and as you kept cleansing your face, Chris’ words still lingered in your mind. A handful of centuries ago, he’d said… 

Demons didn’t mix with other demons, not sexually, at least. That was something Chris told you once in passing. If that was true, and he hadn’t been summoned by a human in centuries, Would that mean you were the first person he’d laid with in centuries?

That was, if he hadn’t found himself entangled with a different being altogether… There was a small part of you that doubted that was the case, though. Or, more accurately, that wished that was the case.

But why? Why would that small part of you wish for that? It was foolish on your part, for sure…

Chris wasn’t yours. You had to constantly remind yourself of that fact. He couldn’t be. You couldn’t mix… like that.

When you were finally fully cleaned up and refreshed, Chris helped you towel dry your hair and the rest of your body. It was way past midnight, and the long evening was certainly catching up to you.

After he brushed your hair and you got into your fluffiest pyjamas, you were finally tucked into bed. Chris simply laid down next to you on top of the covers, propping his head on his hand as he looked at you.

His hair was slightly damp still, but steadily drying in a messy pattern of curls that seemed to be further swallowing the base of his horns.

“You look better with curly hair”, you mindlessly mumbled, with your eyes barely open.

Chris smiled at you. “You didn’t like my straightened hair earlier? I thought it’d be a nice change”. 

You hummed, shaking your head slightly from side to side. “T’was fine. I just like your curly hair so much more”.

“I’ll keep it in mind”, scooting closer to you, he draped an arm over your waist to pull you to him.

“You do as you prefer, though”.

“I don’t have a preference”, Chris mumbled, just before he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead.

The lamp on your bedside table switched off, and your eyes finally closed fully. Chris seemed to snuggle even closer, lifting your head a bit so he could bring an arm under your head to curl it around your shoulders.

“Thank you for your company tonight”, you whispered the words against the skin of his neck, where you had buried your face as soon as he’d pulled you close.

“It was my pleasure, pretty thing”, Chris’ other hand slowly caressed your back, further relaxing every muscle of your body. “Thank you for letting me keep you company”.

You hummed, pressing a brief kiss on his neck. “M’sorry if we didn’t… Y’know…”

Chris chuckled softly at that, and if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought he sounded incredulous. “That’s nothing to be sorry for”.

Silence stretched for a few moments, all you could hear was his steady breathing, faint voices from the party happening in the house in front of your building, and the odd car passing. You could practically feel your body fully relax, being lulled to sleep by Chris’ warmth.

Just before you fell asleep, you vaguely heard Chris mumble against your hair.

“With a bit of luck, I’ll be back in a couple of nights…”

Attending that company event all those weeks ago certainly worked in your favour. You’d had an interview a couple of days ago, and the odds were certainly promising. Nothing was certain yet, though. You never believed anything told to you at work unless it was written down on an email, but you held some hope.

Unfortunately, you’d also had a nasty encounter with the debt collectors… You’d managed to pay them part of the money your mother had owed them, but they were trying to increase interests. You still weren’t sure how you managed to leave that place without being shot, considering the nasty words you spat at them.

They did increase the interest, but to a much lower percentage than the one originally proposed, which you supposed was… not good, but also not bad.

The events of the week had caught up to you, which was why you were grateful that it was Friday night, that you were lying comfortably on your bed, and that you had your favourite demon’s head between your legs.

Chris always provided much needed relief. You didn’t want to think about the corporate world or what your mother had done to get you so deep in this mess… Sometimes, it was almost like he knew you’d been needing exactly this, to be so lost in your pleasure that you were numb, that you couldn’t even remember what had you so wound up in the first place.

It kind of made sense, since that had been your original arrangement… It was exactly the reason why you’d sought him out in the first place, or part of it, at least.

Something seemed different lately, though. 

The other night, after the company event, it’d been the first time Chris had just… stayed with you without engaging in any sexual activity, which puzzled you. Not only that, but, after that night, that started happening more frequently.

It wasn’t like you were mad about it. You realised you didn’t need to have sex with him to get that feeling of relief after meeting with him, which was fine. Maybe more than fine. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder why he wouldn’t make a move sometimes.

You’d been meaning to ask him about it, but you hadn’t really built the courage to do it. You weren’t even sure why you needed to hype yourself up to do it in the first place.

Tonight, though, you didn’t want to think about that.

You doubted you could even think about anything at all when Chris had you just… like this.

His tongue diligently worked you up, the two halves of the appendage danced around your clit so deliciously you could barely keep your eyes open, and the texture of it further enhanced those jolts of pleasure running up and down your spine. Chris’ name would occasionally escape from between your lips as a breathless whisper, and you could practically see him rut into the bed as it did.

Bringing both of your hands to his head, you took a hold of each horn with a firm grip. Chris’ eyebrows furrowed, he moaned, positively heating you up further. You saw his eyes close when you started to gently stroke the base of his horns, softly dragging your fingertips from where they started protruding from his head, before your attention shifted and you caught a couple of his dark strands between your fingers.

His tail thrashed, swishing from side to side before it shot to your ankle. It wrapped around your limb, slowly climbing up a bit before it tightened its hold, and he used it to move your leg further towards your chest. You weren’t really sure who was being louder right now, his grunts and moans sent vibrations through you, his quickening tongue had you trembling with need, and you were so, so ready to finally get your relief…

Chris’ tongue moved further down, licking at your entrance briefly before it found its way to your ass. You couldn’t help but mewl under his motions, fully aroused by the feel of that wet muscle on your sensitive skin, of his nose catching at your entrance. His own noises of pleasure fueled you, it made you believe that Chris enjoyed being right here as much as you did. 

“Chris… I’m… I’m so close–” Your sentence cut short when he returned his tongue to your cunt, when he pushed his forked tongue within your walls and his nose started to nudge your sensitive nub. 

With his arms under your thighs, his hands on your hips, gripping you tightly, Chris kept you pressed to the bed, preventing you from pulling away from him. The grip of his tail on your lower leg tightened, your grip on his horns tightened as well. He was fully submerged in you and that heaven between your legs, and, before you could even let him know, you were trembling with the strength of your release.

It didn’t matter how much you writhed and whined, he just interlocked his fingers over your tummy and kept you right where he wanted, making your mind go numb under the motions of his lips and his forked tongue.

Stars…

All you could see were stars.

Stars and feathers and soft gentle light…

As you came down from your high, Chris finally relented a bit. He pressed the flat of his tongue against your clit, giving you slow, gentle licks that helped prolong your pleasure. He was so good to you, better than you could’ve ever expected. He always knew what to do, how to make you feel good, and every time you laid on your bed with him like this, you were reminded of that fact.

You finally let go of his horns, and started tracing the elegant curve of one of them with your fingertips. Your other hand remained mindlessly playing with his curls, almost tenderly, and Chris just hummed, sounding just immensely satisfied.

He finally removed himself from your centre, but he stayed right there, with his hands still holding you down as he left kisses on your inner thighs. As he did, you couldn’t help but stare at his back from where you were still somewhat propped on your pillows.

You were barely capable of focusing your tired eyes on it, but you honestly couldn’t help but feel curious again. You always did whenever you looked at him, whenever you saw the scarred tissue running parallel to his spine. ‘It happened a few millennia ago. They were left behind after my wings were ripped off of my body’, he’d told you once, but he didn’t elaborate further. If anything, he’d avoided the topic altogether after that.

He had finally stopped licking at your core, which you appreciated. Right now wasn’t a moment for overstimulation, and he seemed to have caught up on that very quickly. As he pressed kisses on your inner thighs, you couldn’t help but bring your foot to his back, barely applying pressure with the ball of it on one of his scars.

Chris’ whole body jolted, his lips immediately detached from your skin with a gasp, and, in the blink of an eye, he was on top of you. With both hands pressed to the mattress at either side of your head, he looked down at you.

You swallowed, suddenly transfixed by the darkness in his eyes. 

“Does it… Does it hurt?” Your voice was barely a whisper, gentle, and, even to your ears, it sounded like you cared. You supposed you did. It was hard not to care when your protective walls were down, when you’d bared yourself to this demon above you so many times, in more ways than one.

Chris shook his head, licking his lips. “Doesn’t really hurt anymore. It’s just… this tingly feeling…”

He readjusted his position, so he could properly kneel between your legs. His tail had loosened its grip, it ran gently up and down your calf in tandem with the tip of his cock on your folds. You held your breath in anticipation, bringing one of your hands to hold one of his wrists, and the other to cup his cheek.

Taking a deep breath, Chris closed his eyes, keeping the slow, teasing motions of his length between your legs. He turned his head the tiniest bit, and placed small pecks of his lips on the palm of your hand.

He was, truly, the oddest demon you’d ever met.

Not like you’d met any demon other than Chris, but he just didn’t fit the idea you had of someone like him.

With his lips still pressed to your palm, with his eyes still closed, he finally plunged himself right into you. You couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. Even if it wasn’t the first time he’d been inside you tonight, the suddenness of it all caught you off guard.

Only when he was fully sheathed within your warmth did he open his eyes. They were dark, endless pools of black like they’d always been, lustful, sinful, but… there was something else there. Something that made you shiver under his heavy gaze.

“F–Fuck…” You swore under your breath, dizzy with the feel of the ridges and bumps of his monstrous cock stimulating your walls. “So big…”

Chris chuckled, lowering himself to his elbows so he could briefly claim your mouth in a sensual kiss. 

“That’s what you’d asked for, no? A big monster cock to fuck you stupid”, he mumbled the words against your lips, just as he started to move, slowly, almost teasingly rocking his hips. In and out, in and out… “That’s why I’m here. Isn’t it, pet?”

You whined, closing your eyes and further pushing your head against the pillow. You could feel your mind turning hazy once again, lost in the feel of Chris in you, on you, all over you…

“Isn’t it?” Chris repeated his question, a bit lower this time, barely even audible over the squelching sounds that started to resonate in your room.

Was that the only reason? A big monster cock?

You’d convinced yourself that had been exactly it, but now, you weren’t so sure.

Your body had a tendency to act on its own around Chris, to do things without receiving the proper, logical signal from your brain, which was probably why you found yourself shaking your head before you could stop it. He didn’t say anything about it, though. He just kissed you. Kissed you like he needed you to keep breathing.

His hips sped up, his weight fell further on you, his firm chest rubbed against yours with how close you were. You wrapped your limbs around him, heels interlocked around his torso and your hands palm flat on his back to keep him in place. You needed him closer, as close as he could be. You wanted him to crawl inside your skin, to become one single soul. 

Although, you supposed his lack of one made it a bit difficult.

That was alright…

Yours could be plenty for both.

You could feel the tip of his tail dragging up and down the back of your thigh, enticing you, provoking you. Chris was grunting in your kiss, pushing his tongue against yours, tugging your lips with his teeth, and you figured this was as close as you could be.

That was fine.

At least, for now.

Your hands found the scarred skin of his back, and you gently traced the outline of it with your fingertips. Chris seemed to have started trembling under your tender motions, his lips disconnected from yours, and his heavy breaths filled your senses when he rested his forehead on yours.

“Do you… Do you regret it?” You asked between broken moans, tightening your legs further around him.

Chris shook his head, and he started to thrust harder into you, further pulling desperate sounds out of your mouth. “Would do it all over again…”

You shivered as soon as the words left his mouth, your walls clenched hard around his length, and Chris swore under his breath. 

Dragging your hands down his back, they found the base of his tail, and it stiffened up into the air as soon as you touched it. Chris whined, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, being mindful to keep his horns out of the way.

You were barely coherent under his quickening motions, unable to produce any sound that wasn’t his name or those that manifested your pleasure. Leaving one hand at the thick base of his tail, stroking the area, you brought your other hand to one of his horns, gently caressing the keratin. Chris’ hips stuttered, his previously controlled thrusts turned into an uncoordinated tempo, and his desperate moans and pleas of your name became more frequent. 

“Fuck. Fuck, fuck, if you–if you keep doing that, I’m gonna–gonna come…” Chris mumbled, but despite his words, his hips didn’t stop. 

With your mouth next to his ear, making sure he could hear every single moan, every single sigh coming out of your mouth, you whispered. “…Good”.

His pace was brutal, erratic, his cock brushed all those incredibly sensitive areas within you, just like you needed it to, and when his tail found its way between your bodies for the tapered tip to stimulate your clit, your eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head.

For you, my love… I’d do it all over again…

Chris’ thoughts slipped into yours, just as a broken whimper escaped his throat and he finally let himself go within your walls.

You weren’t sure if it’d been the motions of his tail, or the feeling of his cock repeatedly splitting you open, or the words he’d poured into your mind, but before you knew it, blinding hot pleasure overtook every single one of your senses. Was there anything else in this world that wasn’t Chris and his tail and his horns and his cum inside you?

At this very moment, you really couldn’t come up with anything off the top of your head, you could barely form a single coherent thought.

A few breaths passed, just before Chris’ lips found yours. He pressed pecks on your lips, and your hands simply buried in his hair to keep him close as you left kisses of your own on his lips. Tired kisses, yes. But kisses nonetheless.

Kisses that just seemed to perfectly finish your seemingly never-ending night of nothing but warmth and intimacy.

When he pulled away, he started pressing slow pecks on your cheeks, finishing off with a final, lingering one on your forehead before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you.

There was a moment where all that could be heard were heavy breaths, and the swish of Chris’ tail on your bed sheets. You were basking in that post-orgasmic bliss, enjoying the satisfying aches of your body.

You felt light, but full. 

Full of Chris.

Both physically and spiritually.

There was a small smile on your lips as you enjoyed those last blissful moments…

But then your eyebrows furrowed.

Opening your eyes, you stared at the ceiling for a moment. Something was weighing heavy in your mind, like your brain was trying to tell you something that you couldn’t quite hear, or that you couldn’t quite comprehend.

Propping yourself on your elbow, you looked at Chris. His eyes were almost closed, he even looked relaxed, but as he took in the look on your face, his entire expression shifted.

He looked worried, concerned…

“What’s wrong, pet?” He propped himself on his elbow as well to get to your level, and you immediately sat down fully, ignoring the feeling of foreign fluids coming out of your body.

“What was that about… about you doing it all over again for me?”

Chris’ eyes widened. He remained silent for a few moments, but then you saw his Adam’s apple bob, and his eyes started jumping all over your face for a while. For a long, quiet while.

He wouldn’t say anything, you didn’t think you’d ever seen him this paralysed before. Chris wasn’t someone that just got paralysed. He was a demon, for crying out loud…

“Chris?”

His expression shifted once again, to one of complete neutrality. Like he’d never even shown emotion in the first place.

“It was just… Y’know, a heat of the moment thing”, he stood up from the bed, abruptly, breaking eye-contact for a moment before he tried to pull you into his arms. “Don’t look too deeply into it. C’mon, let’s go to the shower”.

You moved away from his reach a bit, which made him frown.

You didn’t buy it.

For some reason, you just didn’t buy it. Chris was an honest being, he’d always been. Sometimes you’d wondered if he’d been deceiving you for real like all those priests your mother followed would say, but you never truly felt like he was lying. And as you heard him speak just now, you realised that you’d been correct.

Because, right now, he was lying. You could just tell he was, he sounded so insincere, like not even he could believe what he was saying.

You arched an eyebrow, just looking at him, not saying anything, not moving from where you were sitting on the bed. Chris’ eyes fixed on your hand, and only then did you realise you’d been gripping the bed sheets in a tight fist.

“It’s nothing. You know I ramble a lot, it was just one of those things I say sometimes. C’mon…”

Chris did ramble a lot, and he did say a lot of things in general when you were having sex, but they were always things that made sense within the context, things he thought, things that always felt like he meant them. That, coupled with the fact that he just wouldn’t look at your face, was enough to further trigger the alarms in your brain.

“You didn’t just say it. You thought it”, you saw him swallow again, you could see and hear his tail relentlessly moving behind him, hitting the floor, your bedside table, a chair… “Chris, look me in the eyes and tell me again it was just a heat of the moment thing”.

He remained quiet, unmoving, completely frozen on the spot. There were not only alarms in your brain now, but anxiety was also quickly building within you, although you didn’t quite understand why.

“What do I have to do with the fact that someone ripped off your wings?” 

Chris finally reacted. He brought a hand to his hair, ruffled it as a tired sigh fell from his lips. “This is… It’s not… I mean, it just slipped out of my head, but it’s not like, you know…”

Now he was truly rambling, and it just irked you. “No. No, I don’t know”.

“Let me just… I need to clean you up, okay? You need to drink something, we can talk about this later–”

“No”, you said firmly, tightening your grip on the bed sheets under you. “You’re hiding something from me. You’re lying to me. You’ve never lied to me. Why? Why are you lying?”

Chris sighed, turning his back to you and walking towards your open window. He held onto the frame, but he didn’t move further.

You stared at the scars on his back. The original wound must’ve been deep, traumatic to the skin, leaving keloids behind upon healing. He had other scars, too, but none stood out quite like those two did.

You stood up from the bed on unsteady legs, and made your way to the window. The aches in your body you usually enjoyed so much were just inconvenient like this, which reminded you why Chris was the one to take you in his arms everywhere after hours of nothing but sex.

Chris let go of the window’s frame, and instead brought both hands to his head, where he gripped his hair and the base of his horns as he mumbled to himself. “Shit… I should’ve been more careful… This wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

“What wasn’t supposed to be?” You reached for his back. The moment your fingertips touched his scars he immediately whipped around to face you, looking at you with a deep frown on his face. “God, would you just say something?”

“Don’t!” Closing his eyes tightly, Chris held his head in his hands, shaking it from side to side. You took a step back at the tone of his voice. He’d been loud, louder than he’d ever spoken to you. “Don’t say Her name. This is all Her fucking fault. If She had just let me do what I wanted, we wouldn’t be like this”.

“Who’s she?” You were beyond confused, raising the tone of your voice in response to his own increase in volume.

“God!” Chris said it like it was a name. Not an expression of frustration, or confusion. It was a name. He was talking about God as if they were someone, as if she was someone. “You wanna know why I was thinking what I was thinking?! Because She took you away from me! And when I tried to get you back, She turned me into this!” He gestured to his eyes with two of his fingers, as if that made this make sense at all.

Chris didn’t seem like he was thinking, he was just talking, rambling, venting, rendering you speechless in the process.

“If She had let me just get you back we wouldn’t have to be in this endless, agonising cycle. She always let’s you fucking die, and I always have to watch! I’ve seen you die more times than I have fingers on my hands. I’ve had to wait centuries for you. Sometimes even millenniums! All on my own, because She just loves to play with us like we’re her little figurines. She just loves to see me suffer, to make you suffer, just because I wouldn’t do exactly what She wanted me to do! Do I wish She wouldn’t have taken my wings? Yes. Yes, I do! But even then, I’d do what I did again! And again, and again, and again! I couldn’t just do nothing”.

You stood there, speechless, trembling, confused out of your mind. Before you could open your mouth Chris swore, a loud, aggressive, ‘Fuck!’ that had all items on your vanity flying onto the floor. Once again, he brought his hands to his head, resting his palms on his forehead as he fell to the floor, curling in on himself as he crouched.

There was silence for a while. It was deafening, suffocating, you felt like your legs, too, were about to give out, and you barely even registered your own voice coming out of your mouth.

“What… What are you saying?”

It was barely above a whisper, but Chris looked up at you anyway. His eyes were nothing but a black void, and yet, you could see his feelings painted all over his face… Pain, despair…

When he stood up from the floor, his hands were immediately on your cheeks, so fast you barely had time to react. “You were meant to be with me forever. I promised you a forever… But not like this. It wasn’t supposed to be like this”.

With trembling hands, you reached for his own that cupped your face, and pulled them off of you before you started walking backwards.

“You’re not making any sense. What the hell are you talking about…?” Your ears started to ring, your head started to hurt, and your vision spun.

“I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have let it slip like it was nothing, I know I should’ve told you, but I’m a fucking coward and can never bring myself to”, Chris tried to walk closer to you, but you immediately walked away.

The back of your knees hit your mattress, and you immediately stumbled and fell ass-first on it. Your hands were shaking, the ringing in your ears seemed to intensify, and your chest started to feel heavy. “You… You should’ve told me what? I don’t understand a single thing, Chris. What the fuck are you talking about?”

Chris remained rooted on the spot, looking at you like standing right there was hurting him. “I’m not just a demon. I wasn’t even always a demon… My wings, my soul… God took them away from me because I tried to get you back from the underworld many, many years ago”.

Your lower lip started to wobble, your chest felt tight. Was he saying that… he lost his wings because of you? But that didn’t make any sense whatsoever to you. Chris just kept talking, rambling like he often did.

“Why do you think you’ve always been fascinated by the occult? It doesn’t make sense considering your background, does it? But you are. You always sought out that which was beyond, you’ve always been looking for me”, Chris walked closer to the bed, and your eyes remained fixed on his eyes, lost in the darkness. In the darkness that apparently had been your fault…

“I was one of God’s angels, you know? An obedient little servant… Always ready to do whatever She asked of me. That changed when I met you. Not this you, but the you in your first life. Since then, I am bound to you, I promised you I would be, and we are. But God just can’t let me have what I want… Because of what I did, because She banished me to the underworld, I can only leave it whenever you are looking for me”.

Chris laughed, but it wasn’t a humorous laugh, more one caused by absurdity, one that left a bitter taste on your tongue. “If your bond is so strong, then I’m sure you’d have no problem waiting for the call… That’s what She told me then. And… I suppose She was right. It doesn’t matter if it takes you centuries to be reborn. You always look for me. Whenever you reincarnate into a human, you always look for me”.

“N–No. I wasn’t– I didn’t…” This wasn’t what you’d been trying to do when you had decided to summon a demon… How could you be looking for Chris, when you didn’t even know him? You were calling to any demon… weren’t you? You were sure you’d been doing just that, which was why it was so hard for your brain to fully understand what he was telling you. “How could I? I didn’t know you before that”.

“You did!” Chris’ voice boomed in your room, the loudest, most aggressive you’d ever heard it. It made you jump on the spot, the way the darkness in his eyes started shifting, swirling into erratic patterns, the way his tail thrashed behind him, all of it combined made you feel uneasy. Especially when he was walking, getting closer to your bed. “You do! Listen to me–!”

“Stop it!” You raised one of your hands, with your palm facing him. Chris froze on the spot, just before he could climb into your bed. “Just… just stop shouting!”

Slowly, Chris’ expression changed. From that angry, frowning demon, to a look of shock, then concern. “I didn’t–I didn’t mean to–”

“Stop talking for a second, would you?!” You brought your hands to your face, and applied pressure on your eye sockets with your fingertips.

Your head was throbbing, overworked from trying to fully understand what Chris was telling you. Suddenly, you felt like crying. The tight feeling in your chest was suffocating you, his presence was suffocating you, and, before you knew it, you were sobbing, having a full on meltdown right then and there.

“Love, listen–”

“No! What do I have to listen to?! Huh?!” You could barely see him through your blurry vision, only able to barely make out the shape of his body and his tail anxiously moving behind him. “That it’s my fault that you’re like this right now?! That I’m somehow trapped in a cycle with you?! What the fuck is this about?! That just doesn’t make sense, Chris! You’re lying!”

“I’m not lying! I can give you all the details you want, but not… not like this, not right now. You need to calm down and–”

“I need to calm down?! Me?!” You scoffed, followed by quite possibly the most pathetic sob you’d ever heard. You were sure your head was about to explode, the ringing in your ears got even louder, and you just needed to breathe. “This isn’t what I wanted… It’s not what I was looking for… Please just… just leave”.

“What?! No. No, no, I can’t–!” Chris was scrambling, once again trying to get on your bed, trying to get close to you.

“I said leave, Christopher!” You couldn’t recognise your own voice coming out of your mouth, you could barely understand where you were, where was up, where was down… The world was spinning, your whole body started to hurt, and all you wanted to do was lay down and cry. Alone, in silence.

“No, no, no, please! Don’t use my name for this, it’s not fair! I can’t just leave you like this!” The air around you started to shift, like there was a strong current coming from the window, it had goosebumps rising on your flesh, it almost made you tremble.

“Please leave me alone, Christopher. I just… Whatever this is, I just… I just can’t–”

Chris fell to his knees, clutching his chest. His body was taut, like he was fighting that strong blow raking your bedroom, like it was taking every single bit of power he had to remain right there.

Between gasps, Chris crawled to the side of your bed. He tried to reach out to you, but you just couldn’t let him get any closer, you couldn’t, so you shuffled backwards, sobbing as you watched his hand fall on the edge of your mattress and gripping it tightly.

You could barely make out the features of his face, but you could tell he was looking right at you. 

“I know… I know it’s hard, but, please…” He looked like he was in excruciating pain, like he was about to rip your mattress with how tightly he was holding onto it. “Please, call for me. Whenever you’re ready, just call for me. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait–”

Chris’ form quickly evaporated into dark mist. The air in your room went back to normal, rather abruptly. The sudden shift had you collapsing on your bed and gasping for air.

It was all so much.

Whatever just happened, was just too much for you. 

The pain in your head intensified, you felt like the weight of the world had been placed on your chest, but, worst of all, you felt just so incredibly cold. So, so cold. Unbearably cold. So you reached for your bed sheets and threw them on your body to try and warm yourself up.

You spent a long time curled up under the bed sheets, with your face buried in one of your pillows while you just cried your heart out. You were hurting all over somehow. Emotionally, physically, spiritually… 

It wasn’t until your body had exhausted all remaining energy fuel within yourself that you eventually stopped crying. And as you laid there, dealing with all the different aches and pains of your body, just as you were about to pass out for the night, you finally understood why Chris had always been so insistent on aftercare.

It was, in fact, a very integral part of the act of sex. If you’d let him do it before this whole thing exploded, maybe you wouldn’t be feeling like a beaten up, empty tin can.

< Part 1 | Part 3 >

Author’s notex2: i am so sorry. the third and final part is currently being planned.

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