#Going from a place I feel trapped in to a place where I can see the prettiest girl in the world?? And share meals and help around the place

[monstersholygrail]

Demon Priest knows you hate to beg, and he’d never be one to make you do so. No, not his blessing. His gift. His everything. He lives to serve you. Whatever you ask for he will acquire without hesitation. But that doesn’t mean he can’t make you admit how badly you need him in other ways.

He bends you over the alter, the church empty. But Demon Priest would worship you in front of the masses if only you’d let him. He rubs his cock along your dripping slit, mixing his precum with your slick. Your pussy throbs, senses tingling. He’s so close to where you need him most.

“Put in—hmm— put it in,” you moan, hips wiggling against his. His cock catches onto your entrance and you suck in a harsh breath. He chuckles lowly in your ear.

“Oh, you want something? Tell me what you want, precious dove,” he rasps, his voice sending sparks that go straight to your core. A long whine leaves you.

“You know what.”

“But I wanna hear you say it, my love. What would you like me to stuff inside you,” he starts, his voice turning into a rough growls as his claws dig into your hips.

A high pitched mewl tears from your throat and echos off the empty church walls. No one but him and God there to witness such a blessed sound.

“Your cock!” You shout in desperation, pussy clenching around the bit of his tip pressed against you.

“How bad you want it?” He asks darkly as he starts to push in.

You let out a long moan, pushing back to help suck in his cock but his claws keep you in your place. You’re stuck going at his pace and he goes as slow as he seems bearable. The warmth of your slick walls proving relief for the stinging pain in his feet.

“S-sooo bad,” you whine, feeling the way your body slowly stretches around his girth, accommodating such a dizzying size. Every vein brushes along your depths and your body pulses with need.

Demon Priest huffs out a growl with every breath as your tightness nearly suffocates him. He leans over you, his frame swallowing your plump body, surrounding you with him and only him. His hot breath fans your ear and you clench around him, only serving to make him snarl at you.

“Now what would you like? You know I live to serve my God,” he says, voice sounding more demonic by the second.

“M-move.”

“Move?” He asks, his voice almost playful as he starts pulling out of you. You immediately whine in protest, core clenching around him to keep him trapped inside. Demon Priest lightly scrapes along your belly to restrain himself, his jaw clenching.

“Fuck me, please!” You cry out and Demon Priest roars, slamming his cock inside you at full force.

A massive claw reaches and brings your head down onto the alter. Keeping you positioned perfectly for him as Demon Priest brutally fucks up into your sopping cunt. From your place on your alter you can only just see his true demonic form and your pussy ripples along his length, making his thrusts grow even rougher as he splits you open on his cock.

“As you so command, little dove,” he says deeply through broken moans.

His eyes flash and you know you’ve unleashed something within him that you can’t contain. At least not until he’s forced a few dozen orgasms out of your ruined pussy.

But it’s alright. There isn’t another service until next Sunday. And Demon Priest is going to take advantage of every second he has alone with you inside this holy sanctum, and yours.

[milliesbattleaxe]

more Mastermind analysis, while I think its infuriating I don't think its a mischaracterisation that Bee and Ozzie didn't say anything, bc:

They don't know the full situations. Even if Ozzie knows more, there's a lot of things neither of them know.

While they're outspoken and call people out, in this case, "standing up for what is right" would require them to put in question all of Hell's hierarchy, and Satan's right to pass this ruling in any measure.

The punishment of Stolas may be a "flick on the wrist" but not for these two. Hell is based on power, love these people we deem unworthy and you might lose it all.

While Andrealphus is lying about Blitzø's motifs, both him and Stolas always knew they were breaking Demon Law with this. What's illegal here is Blitzø's use of the grimoire/Stolas relinquishing of the grimoire. This is the entire reason why Stolas asked Ozzie for a crystal.

For Ozzie specifically, to admit he did this would be implicating himself and making him an accomplice.

Them singing "he is the law" implies Satan actually does have a right to pass on the judgements, what he was just lying about was being higher ranked than Lucifer. Furthermore, and like I already said, to question him is to question their own place and neither of them are willing to give it up. They benefit from it, they like benefiting from it. It's Stolas specifically the one who has a problem with Hell's Hierarchies, because he doesn't want to rule, he wants to know things.

This is purposeful in Stolas, as he's Blitzø's mirror and foil. Stolas doesn't want power, he wants to know things, and his entire character arc revolves around "is the power I have worth sacrificing my personhood? my true self?" Bee and Ozzie do not feel trapped in the system like Stolas does, they ENACT the system.

This doesn't make them "bad characters" this is not Oliver Cromwell's decree on the immorality of plays and theatre. This makes them compelling characters who might have conflicts with their own partners, LIKE IT SHOULD BE. Stolitz has always been canon, regardless of their status of together or not, they are their respective love interests, and their relationship is one of the most important components of the narrative. Therefore they have to have something that sets them apart from other couples in their situation, and its this. Bee and Ozzie may be dating Vortex and Fizz, and they love them I do not doubt this, but their relationships aren't challenges to the order in hell. Not really, not even if Ozzie fights Mammon about it.

If you also watch Hazbin, remember that Hell's hierarchy does not like being challenged and this is exactly why they don't take Charlie seriously. Because she is disputing their idea of "power" (both Heaven and Hell's tbh). Even Lucifer hates being challenged, despite being the "og rebel". The only person who can question him is Charlie, no one else can.

Like, think about it. Bee provides things, she is the great provider, Ozzie is a fair boss if a temperamental one who their employees know not to fuck around with, and does a lot of things for Fizz. But that's it. Not once it has been implied they're willing to go (metaphorically, existentially) where their partners come from. Stolas has. Stolas has been trying to know Blitzø in his entirety BEFORE Full Moon. He was doing it like ass, but he was.

Another thing is neither Bee nor Ozzie try to bring their partners to their level. They rule alone, they do not share their power. Stolas did, because while Stolas knows its illegal, he probably does not see it as wrong. And it makes sense given what we know of him and his realm. His realm is knowledge, he doesn't like knowledge because of power, he likes bc he just likes to learn things. He was like this BEFORE he knew what his role in the family was. Paimon even looks at him weird for knowing things and saying them aloud as if "sharing" his power by mentioning it near their butler. Stolas doesn't want to get in trouble but if he loves Blitzø why wouldn't he a) try to learn him exactly as he is (see All 2 U) and b) share ALL that he has with him. why wouldn't he give him ALL that he has.

If they decide to lean on this and show what conflicts it causes, and I think it will given how they're pulling Stella and Striker together, I am rubbing my hands eagerly to see where it goes. And also to see how Ozzie and Bee react and start acting, because there's still two entire seasons to see where they go as characters, their stories aren't yet done

[ifwbillie]

there for you (comfort) | b.e x fem!reader

a/n. feeling off so i wrote it and decided to post. thats TOTALLY how i feel. and english is NOT my first language so im really sorry for any mistakes. hope you like it tho ;))

you’re sitting on your bed, wrapped in the blanket like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling apart. your phone’s lying there, face down, but you know what’s on the screen. billie’s name lights up again, multiple missed calls and messages flooding in. a mixture of worry, love, and longing—her trying to reach out, trying to break through the silence. but it feels too heavy. everything’s too much. like you’re trapped in your own head, the weight of your thoughts suffocating you. you can’t bring yourself to respond to anyone, even her, even though you want to. it just feels like it’s all too much to carry right now. too exhausting to even type a single word.

billie’s been running around with interviews and work, barely a moment for herself. but every second she’s got, she’s pulling her phone out, checking, hoping, wishing for something—anything from you. she knows you need space, knows you pull away when it gets too hard, but the silence is driving her crazy. she can’t sit with it anymore. not with you feeling like this. she’s been wondering if you’re okay, hoping you’ll reach out, but when you don’t, the worry begins to settle in, heavy on her chest. she has to see you. she has to be there.

so, when her last interview wraps up, she’s out the door faster than anyone realizes. she doesn’t even wait. her mind is racing, her heart pounding with the need to be close to you. she gets in her car, driving fast, her hands gripping the wheel tightly as she fights to ignore the way her pulse quickens with every passing second. her thoughts are focused on one thing only—getting to you.

when she arrives at your place, she stands there for a moment, taking a deep breath. she’s not sure what to expect, but she knows you need her right now. she knocks softly on the door, her knuckles gentle against the wood. there’s a long pause, a beat where she wonders if you’ll even answer, but then the door creaks open. and there you are.

you look… broken. eyes red, shoulders slumped, the kind of tiredness that’s more than physical. it’s the kind of exhaustion that seeps into your soul, the kind that makes everything feel like too much. billie doesn’t hesitate. she steps inside, immediately closing the door behind her, and without saying a word, she wraps her arms around you, holding you tight. at first, you’re stiff, like you’re not sure what to do, but slowly, the tension in your body starts to melt. you can feel her warmth, her steadiness, and for the first time in days, you let yourself relax. she doesn’t ask questions. she doesn’t try to fix anything. she just holds you, like she’s trying to take on all the pain that’s weighing you down.

she guides you to the couch, both of you sinking into the cushions. you sit close, and she doesn’t let go of your hand. instead, her fingers trace soft, slow circles on your palm, a grounding rhythm that’s meant to comfort. there’s no rush. no pressure to talk. she’s here, and that’s enough. she’s not going anywhere.

it’s you who breaks the silence first, your voice barely above a whisper. “i… i feel like i’m never enough, billie. like no matter what i do, i’ll always fall. i didn’t want to bother you with all of this… i just feel so tired of everything. i just want to disappear. i feel like nothing will ever be okay again.”

her hand tightens around yours, her grip steady and reassuring. her eyes soften, her face filled with compassion. “babe, you’re never a bother. never. do you hear me? i’m here because i love you. because you matter to me. i want to be here for you, all of you, not just the easy parts. i know it’s hard, but i promise you, you’re not alone in this. you don’t have to hide from me. you don’t have to be quiet. i’m here to listen, and i won’t leave you.”

she leans in, her voice gentle but filled with the weight of her words. “you don’t have to keep it all inside, okay? you don’t have to carry it all on your own. let me in, hm? let me see everything you’ve been hiding. i want to help. i want to show you that you don’t have to carry this burden alone.”

you feel the tears start to well up, the weight of everything pressing harder. you try to hold them back, but it’s impossible. one tear slips down your cheek, and you quickly try to wipe it away, embarrassed. but billie’s there, reaching up to gently brush it away, her touch soft and soothing.

“hey, it’s okay,” she whispers. “you don’t have to hide from me, not from me. i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. you’re safe with me, always.” she pauses for a moment, her hand brushing a stray tear from your cheek before continuing, her words soft but full of warmth. “it’s okay to be vulnerable, babe. i’ll never judge you or use it against you. i’m here to stay, and you don’t have to carry this on your own.”

you lean into her shoulder, your chest tightening as you finally let the flood of emotions out. “i just didn’t want you to see me like this. i didn’t want to be this weak.”

billie’s voice is soft but firm as she says, “then let me see all of you, sweetheart. let me see you—the strong and the broken, the happy and the sad. i want to be with you through it all. i’m not going anywhere. i’m not leaving, never. you’re stuck with me forever”

she holds you close, her warmth surrounding you, and slowly, the feeling of being overwhelmed starts to fade. she’s there, and that’s enough to make everything feel just a little more bearable.

as the evening wears on, you start to feel the exhaustion take over. you’re drained, emotionally and physically. billie watches you closely, sensing it before you even say a word. “hey, angel,” she murmurs. “you need rest. come on, close your eyes. let me help you, okay?”

she shifts so she’s lying beside you, keeping her arms around you as you close your eyes. “i’m not going anywhere until i see you resting. just sleep, love. i’m here. i’m right here.”

with billie’s comforting words surrounding you, you finally drift off to sleep, her hand still gently resting over yours, her presence a steady reminder that you’re never alone. as you sleep, billie stays close, watching over you until the steady rhythm of your breath tells her you’re resting peacefully.

“i love you,” she whispers softly as she watches you. and then, without hesitation, she leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “i’m here, always,” she murmurs.

[paige1722]

So Much for a Safe House

Summary: You go on a mission with 141 and end up taking shelter in an abandoned building. The place is haunted, and you are all trapped inside; creepy things are happening. (Ghost of War-inspired)

Callsign: Spark because it was all I could think of. (Backstory: accidentally left a metal spoon when trying to microwave noodles)

Warnings: scares(?)

Also, this is my first fanfic since my one-direction days, so please be kind. 

Chapter One: Shelter

In the freezing weather, you and your team hiked through the thick pile of snow to make your way to the abandoned house at the top of the mountain. Soap recalled seeing it on your way to the supposed enemy weapons cache in the middle of nowhere that turned out to be a dead end. Though when you all tried to radio command about the false information that it turned out just to be an empty plot of land in the dense snow-ridden forest, was when it was discovered that all forms of communication were not working; Ghost even tried scaling a tree with impressive speed, to see if a signal could be found that way but to no luck. 

“A few miles back, there was a house that looked to be abandoned. We could make our way back to it and come up with a plan there instead of standing around waiting to get hypothermia or become somethings next meal,” said Soap, his voice mumbled through the mask he wore to protect himself from the cold, making his accent more difficult to decipher. 

 Seeing no other option and rather than freezing to death, Price agreed that the best course of action would be to rendezvous there and wait for further instruction from Laswell, whenever the radio wanted to start working properly again.  

That is how you found yourself trudging through the thick snow in below-freezing temperatures for what seemed like 20 miles, but in reality was more like two. Once the abandoned house came into view, did you try to break the silence beside the occasional curse, that had fallen over your task force. You decided to theorize about the abandoned, dilapidated house that you could see in the distance, which quite honestly looked more like an asylum than a house. 

“So, where do you think they hid the bodies? The basement or maybe inside the walls?” 

Soap let out a breathless laugh, slowing his step to fall into line beside you, “Oh, definitely in the walls. It is like a given, right, horror movie 101.” Throwing an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you into his side and lowered his voice to sound more menacing, “The real question is, Bonnie, this far out, no one would be able to hear you scream.” 

Feeling a shiver go down your spine at the creepy comment, you turned your head to face Soap, seeing the crinkle by his eyes as he was smiling like an idiot underneath his mask. 

Rolling your eyes, you pushed him away, scoffing, “You spend too much time online, go and touch some grass.”

“Alright, you two, that is enough. We won’t be there long; just need to regroup and wait for the exfil.” Huffed Price from behind you both. 

“Sorry, Captain. Just trying to lighten the mood and distract myself from the fact that my entire body is becoming a popsicle,” you muttered while rubbing your hands up and down your arms, trying to get some feeling back in them. 

Gaz nodded in agreement, “I don’t care what is in the walls or the basement. As long as I can make a fire and get out of this snow, I will be happy.” 

Walking up to the house's main doors, you could see the state of disrepair everything was in huge holes could be seen on the roof where snow was falling in, busted windows, and rotting wood on the steps and door. Price grabbed the door handle, using his body to force it open. The door swings open, nearly falling off its hinges. Quickly, Ghost and Gaz march inside to sweep the area. Standing in the main foyer of the house, you got a clear view of just how run down this place had become; gusts of wind from the busted-out windows and holes throughout the house made an unsettling groaning occur. From where you, Soap, and Price were standing, you noticed that this place was actually a lot smaller on the inside than it seemed on the outside. There were only three rooms downstairs; it looked like a kitchen, dining area, and a small living room with stairs leading up the second floor right in front of the door. The stairs looked warped, like one wrong step, and you would quickly find out if there was actually a basement here or not. All that could be heard were your teammate's heavy footsteps and the groaning of the wood. You walked over to peer into the rooms Ghost had already cleared. From what you could see, the entire place was bare, except for the dining room, that had a few old wooden chairs that would probably break if you tried sitting on them, and a small dinner table. The kitchen had cabinet drawers that were barely hanging on its hinges with spider webs and a thick coating of dust on the counters.

“All clear up here,” Yelled Gaz, as he made his way back down the stairs, carefully planning where to step next.

 “Clear, first floor. Guys, come check this out.” yelled Ghost from the living room on your left. Side-eyeing Price, you all turn to make your way to where Ghost is waiting. The first thing you noticed was a massive fireplace; running excitedly and throwing your gear down next to Ghost’s, you stuck your head into the fireplace and looked up the chimney. “Let's make a fire before I become one with the snow.” 

Grabbing your shoulder and pulling you out from the fireplace, “First, you got to get out of the fireplace, Spark. Also, we need to find something for firewood. See what you can find while I get this cleared out and ready.” Ghost ordered. 

Looking around the barren room you were all currently in and not seeing anything useful but a raggedy carpet on the floor and scraps of cardboard piled in the corner, you make your way into the dining room. Seeing the old wooden chairs that had seen better days, “This will do, but first..” you grab one of the chairs and proceed to break it into pieces to use for the fire, by throwing it to the ground with as much force as you can muster. 

“Epic,” you say as you stare at the chair which has broken into smaller pieces, which allows you to be able to stomp on it, creating small sticks of wood that would be perfect for the fireplace. Reaching down to pick up the pieces to bring back to Ghost, a small notebook catches your eye, peeking out from underneath the dining room table. Grabbing the small red notebook and running your hand over the raised symbol on the cover in the shape of what looks to be an upside-down cross with a ‘c’ shape on the bottom, turning the book over in your hands to open it when you hear Gaz yelling, “Have you found anything yet, Spark? It’s bloody freezing in here!” 

“Yeah, I’m coming!” you replied quickly, shoving the notebook in your pocket to look at later, grabbing the remains of the chair, and running back into the room with the rest of your team. Walking into the room, you see that Gaz has joined Ghost in preparing the fireplace while Soap and Price are trying to secure the window with pieces of what looked like cardboard and duct tape, probably trying to keep the cold out. Once you reach the fireplace, you place the scraps of the chair inside while Gaz gets out his case of emergency lighter, which he mainly carried around for when Price lost his and wanted a cigar. He lights the piece of fabric Ghost is holding out to him to use as a firestarter; he places the lit fabric in the base of the wood, and you hold your breath, hoping it works. Seeing the wood slowly start burning and letting off a warm glow, you release the breath and finally relax, sitting back on your knees. 

“That should about do it. It’s not perfect, but it should help with the wind and snow.” Price said while clapping Soap on the back, “Now lets see if we can figure out what to do about the radio.” 

They both made their way in front of the fire as well, where everyone was now huddled together, waiting to unthaw from the harsh weather. 

Pulling out the radio, Price tried once again to reach Laswell, “Laswell, you copy.” crackling static was the only thing that could be heard in response. He grabbed the knob and tried changing the channel to the emergency line, “Laswell, you copy.” again, nothing could be heard. Sighing, he continued messing with the radio as Gaz tried to help, trying different ideas to make it work. 

Ghost had pulled over the gear thrown down and was rummaging through it, pulling out MRE rations, emergency blankets, and first aid; he looked like he was taking inventory of all the supplies we had with us and creating plots for us to sleep. As you move to make yourself more comfortable in front of the growing flames, you feel the small red notebook in your pocket. 

Pulling it back out again, Soap looks over, “Aye, what do you got there?” 

“Hmm, some sort of diary, I guess I found it in the dining room when I was getting the wood. It has this weird symbol on it.” flipping open the book, you and Soap start going through the pages, seeing lots of frantic scribbling that neither of you could decipher and pictures of what looked like some sort of creature, who only got more gore-filled as you filled through. It was difficult to make out the writing, but on some of the pages, it seemed to be pleas for help about needing to make ‘it’ stop and go away. 

You and Soap share a nervous glance, flipping to a new page; you let out a gasp. On the page was what looked to be a warning, ‘there is no way out, it has them, I can hear their screams, I am next….. Don’t let it in.’ 

Turning to look at Soap, you could feel your blood run cold, and you knew your fear could be seen on your face. Soap laughs nervously, saying, “It’s probably just some silly story trying to scare us.” Nodding in agreement, you closed the book and placed it back in your pocket, turning back to face the now roaring fire. 

Trying to distract yourself from the creepy notes and pictures, you start listening to your team-mates talking idly amongst themselves; whether it be trying to fix the radio or the supplies, you slip into one of the spots Ghost created and close your eyes, trying to clear your mind and catch a few minutes of sleep hoping everything would be fixed when you woke up. 

Price released an exasperated sigh, throwing his hands up in the air, “I don’t know why the bloody thing isn’t working. It is like something is interfering with our signal.” He sets the radio down near the gear, Ghost had set out.

 He walked over to where Ghost, Soap, and Gaz were sitting. He looked over to where you were sleeping near the fire to keep warm; turning back to look at his teammates, he rubbed his face, saying, “It seems we will just have to wait out the weather and head to the exfil point then and hopefully will be able to radio Laswell. In the meantime, why don’t we follow in Spark’s footsteps and get some sleep.” 

Ghost grabbed his gun, placed it in his lap, and moved to sit in the corner between the window and fireplace, “I’ll take the first watch. We still don’t know what’s out there.” 

“Or what is in here,” mumbled Soap as he and the others made their way near where you were sleeping to find a spot for themselves. 

Gaz cleared his throat, turning to Ghost, “Yeah, well, anyways, I’ll take next watch. Wake me up in two hours.” he laid down, pulling his toboggan to cover his eyes. Soap and Price following in suit. 

After about an hour and a half of nothing happening except the occasional groan from the house settling, Ghost notices the radio Price had placed near the gear begin to static; thinking that it might be command trying to get into touch with them, he makes a move to go over to it, but before he could get near it. A piercing sound comes from the radio, like a shrieking noise. 

Everyone startles awake, “what the fuck is going on?” you exclaimed, all eyes turning to Ghost for an explanation. 

“Hell, if I know, it was dead silent a minute ago, and now the bloody thing won’t stop making that noise. Somebody turn it off.” 

Gaz reaches for the radio and flips the switch on it to turn it off. When the noise stopped, a thundering bang was heard from above you all. It was so loud that it shook the walls, causing dust to fall down.

 Ghost reaches for his gun, as does the rest of you. Pointing your weapons towards the door, waiting to see if you could hear anything else or if it was just a noise an old house makes in the middle of a snowstorm. From behind you all, you hear the radio, which you could have sworn Gaz just turned off begin to crackle with life. Slowly turning around to look at the noise, a voice comes from the radio: “It is here now.” A cold wind came down from the chimney, extinguishing the fire and plummeting the room into darkness. 

[hungermakesmonsters]

Love, Sick Love

Chapter Thirteen

Plot summary : Working at one of the shadier bars in Brooklyn, you have one rule; don’t mess around with the patrons. Most of them are criminals, dangerous. None more so than Billy Russo, but Billy believes that rules are made to be broken. Especially your rule. One lapse in judgement is all it takes for Billy to decide that you’re his, and he’s never been the sort of man to take rejection well.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R 

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Smut with a capital S. All chapters will deal with dark and smutty themes, including but not limited to stalking. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story. 

Word Count : 5.8k

A/N : If you don't like cliffhangers, all I can say is I'm sorry...

CHAPTER ONE | CHAPTER TWO | CHAPTER THREE | CHAPTER FOUR | CHAPTER FIVE | CHAPTER SIX | CHAPTER SEVEN | CHAPTER EIGHT | CHAPTER NINE | CHAPTER TEN | CHAPTER ELEVEN | CHAPTER TWELVE

Master List

Chapter Thirteen

Then it’ll just be me and you.

Those words played over and over as you fell asleep that night. Some part of you knew you were setting yourself up for heartbreak if you dared to believe him, but a much louder part didn’t care. It had been so long since you’d had anyone in your life, so long since you’d trusted anyone. 

You’d never told anyone about your past before him, never told anyone what you’d done or what was done to you. No one else knew you like he did, and you were starting to think that you were the only one who really knew him. 

At least, no one else seemed to know this version of him.

This version of Billy was, for all intents and purposes, yours.

He was yours.

It was a terrifying thought and you still weren’t entirely sure how it had come to that. You hadn’t looked for it, hadn’t wanted it but, there you were, wrapped up in Billy’s arms, not wanting him to ever let go.

He fell asleep first which, given his injuries, wasn’t surprising. It was strange but, once you started thinking about it, you weren’t sure if Billy had actually slept in your bed since that first night he’d stayed. Usually you fell asleep first and always found him already awake when you woke.

Now, sleeping in your arms, he looked almost peaceful, the most at rest you’d ever really seen him. And it was nice (at least, when you willfully ignored the fact that he had stitches in his side, that you’d put there not thirty minutes before). Seeing him that way made things finally feel real between you, like a line had been irrevocably crossed, like you were in too deep to even think about backing out again.

You held him tight, wondering what the future might hold as you slowly drifted off.

It wasn’t until light was starting to peek through the window that you felt him stir and heard a broken mutter tear from his lips.

Your eyes opened and you lifted your head, looking at him and seeing that same pained expression on his face you’d seen the first time you caught him in the clutches of a nightmare. But this time you knew you couldn’t slip away and pretend you hadn’t seen anything - if only because you didn’t want to risk him thrashing about and tearing open his stitches.

“No -” he gasped, his whole body twitching. “No!”

“Billy,” you said, placing a hand on his shoulder and softly shaking him. “Hey, Billy, it’s just a dream. It’s okay.”

His eyes opened and he drew a sharp breath. For a moment he seemed lost, like he didn’t know where he was or maybe he thought he was still trapped in the dream, but then he saw you and his expression softened.

“Kitten?” His voice was scratchy, dry, and for reasons you didn’t entirely understand, hearing his morning voice made you feel warm inside.

“You were having a nightmare.”

Billy looked up at you, a flicker of defensiveness crossing his features, but he decided against denying what you’d seen.

“Did I wake you?” He asked, and you shrugged. “I’m sorry, kitten.”

You wanted to say something, to tell him it was okay or, at least, tell him you were glad you woke up before he could hurt himself, but Billy’s hand found your cheek and before you could even think, he was closing the distance to kiss you. And you sank into his lips, losing yourself in a sleepy but tender kiss, taking care not to agitate the already scabbed split lip.

When he finally pulled back, your fingers slipped through his hair, brushing it back away from his face.

“Thank you. For looking after me last night,” he said as his head dropped back onto the pillow.

“You don’t have to thank me, just promise me it’ll never happen again.”

“I promise. I - I’m gonna take care of things,” Billy said.

“What you said last night; that you were going to fix then and then it’d just be me and you...”

There was a question in there somewhere, you just weren’t sure how to ask it. Or, maybe you were too scared to ask it, too scared to think about a future that neither of you had really planned for.

“I think I might have to leave New York - at least for a little while - but I want you to come with me,” Billy answered.

Of course, you knew the rational response was to tell him no, to tell him he was being insane. You couldn’t just pack up your life and leave town with a guy you hardly knew, a criminal, a wanted murderer. But the words wouldn’t come and, instead, you fell into an uneasy silence.

“Is that a no?” He asked after a few awkward seconds.

“It’s... I don’t know...”

You braced yourself, expecting - you weren’t even sure what. Anger? Disappointment? But when had Billy ever really shown you anything like that? When had he ever tried to force you to do anything? Never. Even through his stalking of you and all his talk of changing your mind, it was his actions, not his words that helped you change your mind about him.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to decide right away,” he answered.

The next half an hour was spent in his arms dozing and trading more lazy kisses until, finally, your empty stomach started to grumble and you decided that you really should make sure Billy ate something.

Setting foot in the kitchen reminded you of the events of the night before and the mess you hadn’t cleaned up; the first aid kit and bloody towels still on the floor. 

Without a word, Billy started to tidy up as you headed for the coffee. It struck you that you hadn’t asked how he was, if his injuries were hurting. And, even after having that realisation, you didn’t ask. It wasn’t that you didn’t care or didn’t want to know, you just... didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to remember having to sew up what you were pretty certain was a knife wound.

You filled the coffee pot and set about making pancakes. While you were no Martha Stewart, you knew your way around a frying pan well enough to make enough pancakes for you and Billy to share.

“This is nice,” he said, smiling softly across the table as you ate.

“Yeah,” you agreed. Because it was, even if it was also a strange thing to be experiencing with him for the first time.

“Only thing that would make it better is a view,” he said, continuing when you shot him a questioning look, “mountains or maybe a lake. Or a place on the coast. A little cabin in the middle of nowhere, with a porch where we could sit and have breakfast.”

You couldn't stop the smirk that spread across your lips.

“What?” He asked, fighting off a smirk of his own.

“I don’t know, it just seems very... domestic for both of us.”

Billy let out a laugh and you barely stifled yours by lifting your coffee mug to your lips. You didn’t want to admit it but it sounded nice, like something you could want.

“I think...” he started before, uncharacteristically trailing off, almost seeming uncertain of himself for a second, “... I think I’d like something domestic. I mean... if it was with you...”

Again, you found your lips covered by your mug, not sure if the smile on your lips was genuine or nervous. His words had butterflies taking flight in your stomach. With anyone else, you’d assume it was just a line, but Billy seemed so uncertain that he was even capable of that and you knew he wasn’t just saying it.

After breakfast, you found him an old sweatshirt, a big thing you’d bought for yourself from the menswear department to wear during last winter. The dark red suited him, and you had half a mind to tell him to keep it.

Then, your sweet and domestic morning was over. Billy was heading towards the door, still looking somewhat worse for where but, instead of walking out the door, he stopped and turned to you.

“Thank you,” he said, “for everything. I know you never asked for any of this...”

You took a step forward, confused by the sudden change in him.

“Being with you, being able to be like... like this, I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy before,” he continued. “I don’t remember ever feeling like I belonged before you, not even with Frank and his family. So, thank you.”

For a few seconds you stood in a stunned sort of silence, and Billy seemed to take that silence to mean that you had nothing to say. Panic rattled in your chest as he started to turn towards the door.

“Wait,” you said, already starting to clear the distance between you as Billy stopped and turned back towards you. “Why does this feel like goodbye?”

Before you could think to stop yourself or bring yourself to care, your fingers were around his wrist, holding him, stopping him from just walking out and leaving things like that.

“Careful, kitten. I might start thinking you’re falling for me,” he responded with a gentle smile, completely dodging the question.

The panic continued to grow as he gave a little tug against your grip, like he was trying to slip away from you, and you just couldn’t fight the feeling that it might be the last time that you ever saw him. Your mind raced over everything he’d said, about how you could be together... after he fixed things. After he took care of things.

You’d been so stuck on the you and me part of things that you hadn’t even considered what needed to be fixed and how he was going to go about it, but now there was no stopping the sinking sensation in your gut.

Unconsciously, your fingers tightened around his wrist.

“Don’t go,” you pleaded. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to -”

He cut you off with a kiss, his body desperately crashing into yours. Your fingers tangled in the fabric of the red sweater and, before you knew what you were doing, you had started pulling him back into the apartment and towards your bedroom.

“I’ve been waiting months for you to ask me to stay. For you to want me to stay,” he muttered against your lips, not giving you a chance to respond to his confession before pulling you into another devouring kiss.

His hands pulled at your clothes, as yours did his, both finally giving in to the need that had been building since the first night you’d shared together. Your fingers ran down his bare chest, over the bandages, to his jeans, tugging open the fastenings, eliciting an eager sound from Billy, while he was busy trying to pull your slip over your head.

An awkward shuffle ensued as he kicked out of his boots, and he let out a low groan against your lips as your hand gripped his cock, starting to stroke and letting out an eager sound of your own as you felt him grow hard.

All you knew in that moment was that you wanted him. You craved him, hungered for him, feeling as you felt yesterday morning. You wanted to hold him tight, claw at his skin and make a place for yourself beneath his ribs.

It felt like the floodgates had opened, that all the thoughts and feelings you’d spent years denying yourself, years telling yourself that you could have, were all rushing to the surface.

You pushed Billy backwards onto the bed and followed him down, swallowing down any complaints he might have with another kiss. Suddenly you were put in mind of that moment weeks ago, when you'd accused him fucking you like you only existed for his pleasure. In retrospect you hated that you'd said it, that you'd dare to even think it because, even now, as he kissed you and held you, you knew that he had your pleasure in mind just as much as his own.

Right then, you were the one who wanted to fuck Billy and have him that way, you need for him overwhelming any other more rational thought.

Your lips pulled from his, trailing a searing path from his lips, along his jaw and down his neck. He groaned as you sank lower, as you dragged lips and tongue over his chest and stomach, doing your best to avoid his bandages, moving to settle yourself between his legs.

“Did I die last night?” He muttered. “Because I think I've gone to heaven.”

You might have laughed if you weren't at eye level with his cock. Your hand slipped around him again and gave a squeeze, pulling another groan from him. Billy bit his lip as he looked at you and you could tell he was craving the exact same thing as you. 

Slowly, you started to move your hand, stroking his shaft, feeling him grow harder still. Your eyes dropped, taking in the sight of him and the way his cock was already leaking for you.

Leaning you ran your tongue up him from root to tip. The sound that spilled from him had your thighs clenching. Never in your life had a man made such a desperate sound for you, and you found yourself wanting more. You wanted everything. Every desperate look, every weak and eager moan. The way his breath caught and the way he said your name like you were all he was capable of thinking about.

It made you feel powerful and in control, it made you feel strong in a way you’d never experience before. And if you could turn a man like Billy to putty with just a swipe of your tongue, well, you quickly came to wonder just what else you could do.

Parting your lips, you kept your eyes on him as you took him into your mouth. Billy inhaled sharply, swearing as your lips slowly slipped down the length of his cock to where your hand still rested.

You’d always enjoyed doing this, always enjoyed knowing that you could control a man’s pleasure and decide just how much you wanted to please him and how; hard and fast to blow his mind, or slow and sensual to make sure he came back for more. But, with Billy, you found that you wanted both. You wanted everything.

You wanted to drive him crazy, for him to have an experience like no other, but you also wanted him to come back. No. Not come back. You wanted him to stay.

A soft moan was muffled by his cock as you started to move, not too fast but fast enough to really get him going, fast enough to make him think you were pushing him towards sweet oblivion.

Your hand gripped his thigh and you were almost surprised when one of his own hands covered yours, like he just needed to touch you. Turning your hand, you took hold of his hand, and let slip another moan when you felt his other hand lightly gripping your hair.

He wasn’t used to this, you decided. Billy obviously wasn’t used to giving up control, and that he was giving it up to you had to mean something. For a second you faltered, remembering that he was just like you, that he had been hurt too, and you wondered if the loss of power in the situation was making him uncomfortable. But one look at Billy told you that he was anything but uncomfortable.

After a few minutes your mouth pulled away from him, though your hand continued to stroke his spit-slicked cock.

“Are you enjoying this?” You asked in the most sultry voice you could manage, smirking up at him.

Billy seemed to struggle for an answer for a moment, left so scattered and unfocused by your actions.

“Yeah, kitten. I’m really fucking enjoying it,” he said breathlessly.

“Good.”

You let him slip between your lips again, this time using your tongue, tracing the vein on the underside of his cock as you sank lower and lower. Your hand moved out of the way and you tried to relax your throat, taking him as deep as you could, blinking back tears when he nudged the back of your throat.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

His hips moved seemingly of their own accord, bucking upwards,forcing more of his length into your mouth, pushing his tip down the back of your throat. You whined at the sensation but didn’t pull back.

“Fuck... I’m close,” he groaned.

Those words from any other man would have marked the end, you’d have pulled away and made sure to finish him with your hand, but this was Billy. Whatever there was between you, you didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want to leave things feeling only half finished. So, you doubled down, starting to bob your head faster while you continued to tease him with your tongue.

Billy gave a grunt and one final warning, that you chose to ignore, before you felt him pulse and spill in your mouth. You stayed where you were, watching him as his eyes closed and his chest shuddered. It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You didn’t pull back until he was done, swallowing down every last drop before letting his cock fall from your lips.

The look on his face quickly became one of sheer astonishment.

“You are so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his hand giving yours a squeeze.

“I know.” A smirk spread across your lips.

You waited a moment before slowly crawling back up the bed, over his body, keeping his hand in your as you did. Lingering over him, you lips inches from his you found yourself getting lost in his dark eyes wondering what a future with him would hold and if everyone morning could be like this one.

“You’re thinking too much,” Billy said, lifting his head, closing the distance so he could kiss you.

“How do you know?” You muttered into the kiss.

“I can hear the cogs turning,” he answered, his lips pulling into a smile against yours.

A laugh escaped you, and you felt a warmth spread through your whole body, a feeling of happiness, of belonging that you weren’t sure you’d ever really felt before.

“Maybe you should do something about it,” you told him before gently nipping his bottom lip, still trying to be mindful of his freshly scabbed-over split lip.

You expected a joke, or some sort of response, instead Billy flipped you onto your back, kissing you deeply, roughly, giving you a glimpse of the dominance you knew was lurking beneath the surface just waiting to be released.

He pressed himself between your thighs as he kissed you, his cock still hard. A whine spilled from you and your back arched, betraying your desperation as Billy’s lips began to move down your neck. He mirrored your previous actions, though he took far more time descending your body, letting his lips and tongue explore your breasts, teasing each nipple into an aching, hardened peak before continuing downwards.

Billy shot you a playful look before running his tongue around your navel, giving you a hint of what was to come.

Yes, you thought to yourself, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips and tongue against your core again. You were already wet for him, already feeling needy and so ready for anything that would follow.

His teeth nipped at your hips before he started to suck a love bite into your skin.

“Mine,” he said.

And you didn’t dare correct him.

By the time he was between your lips, close enough that you could feel his hot breath on your sensitive flesh, you were already trembling.

You held your breath and stared down at him, and an eager plea managed to escape you; “please, Billy.”

Billy obliged.

You moaned as fingers parted your folds and he lowered his head.

There was no slow and gentle teasing, there was no gradual build up - it would have been pointless anyway, you already felt halfway to orgasm before he’d even touched you

He started with long strokes along your slit and up to your clit, letting out hungry, filthy groans at the taste of your arousal.

The rhythm of his tongue was relentless, pulling breathy moans from you with every swipe. He ate  pussy like a starving man, a man possessed of a hunger he just couldn’t sate. The thought might have made you laugh at any other time, but the only sounds you were capable of making were those mewling moans that made you sound just as hungry as him.

Fingers dipped inside you, eagerly curling, already knowing exactly how to touch you. In the few times that you’d allowed him to do this, Billy had already learned you inside and out, and there was no doubt in your mind that, this time, this was just foreplay.

Billy was going to fuck you again.

“Billy,” you gasped and writhed under his attention, your fingers tangling in his hair as you ground your hips against his face. “Fuck, that feels so good...”

You couldn’t see it but you were sure you felt his lips pull into a smirk against you.

Whether he’d intended to or not, there was no doubt in your mind that Billy had ruined you for anyone but him. Your toes curled and your grip on his hair tightened. You barely even realised it but you were letting out desperate whines and moans, crying his name and begging him not to stop.

Soon enough pressure was coiling inside you, and you were pushed closer and closer to the edge by his fingers and tongue. The moment he nipped at your throbbing clitwith his teeth, you were a goner, panting and gasping between your cries as you came undone. Your whole body shook from it, violent tremors sparking from your core and racing you and down your spine. 

You continued to shudder and shiver beneath him as he moved back up the bed, his fingers gripping your chin lightly, forcing you to look at him. His lips and chin were wet, covered in your arousal, and there was no sexier sight in your mind.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He asked.

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation. 

But Billy didn’t move, instead he seemed to be caught in some thought that he couldn’t quite escape from.

“I don’t want it to be just about my pleasure,” he told you.

Something inside you ached, hurt that he remembered those words you’d spoken to him in anger. You shook your head.

“It’s not - it won’t be,” you said. “I want this, Billy. I want you. The real you.”

You wanted the dominant Billy, the one that made you question your boundaries, the one that made you feel alive and possessed, the Billy who made you feel like no one else ever could.

He still didn’t move, so you reached between your bodies and took his cock in your hands, teasing the tip between your folds.

“Please, Billy - fuck, I need you...”

It sounded desperate, pathetic even, but there was no lie in the words. You did need him. You needed this - whatever the fuck this even was.

His free hand gripping your hip and, before you could even think, his hips were moving. You cried out as his cock filled you in one hard thrust, your back arching up to meet him.

“Fuck,” you moaned, pressing your head back against the pillow, as far as his grip on your chin would allow.

“I knew you liked it rough,” he said, smirking down at you.

It took you a couple of seconds to get over the fact that he was buried to the hilt inside you, and to get used to the feeling, but not as long as you might have thought.

“Are you gonna tease me or fuck me?” You answered back, your playful challenge letting him know that you wanted him to fuck you. You wanted him to do what he wanted.

The fingers on your hip tightened, holding you in place as he moved a little, giving a couple of slow, shallow thrusts, before almost pulling out of you completely. You breath caught in your chest but was quickly expelled as he slammed into you again.

Your arms wrapped around him and held on for dear life as Billy started to fuck you, the hard and fast motion of his cock inside you, more than enough to have you letting out whines and moans of pleasure, your eyes quickly threatening to roll back in your head.

Months of frustration came to the fore and, despite how overwhelmed you felt, your hips started to move, bucking up to meet his every thrust. You felt indestructible in that moment, completely unbreakable.

He kissed you, dominating your mouth while he fucked you senseless. And you let him. No, you encouraged him. You wanted it, needed it, craved it. There was no going back, not after this.

“Oh fuck - fuck!”

It crept up on you from nowhere, driven to another orgasm by him and everything he was doing to you. Your thighs trembled violently against his and your back bowed off the bed, but Billy didn’t slow even for a moment. He fucked you through the heights of your pleasure before hish hands started to pull at your legs, pulling them upwards, bending you beneath him so your ass and lower back were no longer on the bed.

As he continued to move inside you, you felt him sinking deeper, an awkward mixture of pleasure and almost-discomfort filling you as the tip of his cock nudged your cervix. 

“Fuck,” he grunted, “your mine, kitten.”

You didn’t have the chance to answer. Any thought you might have had was cut short the moment you felt his cock hit that special, sensitive spot inside you. His name spilled from your lips as a plea and a prayer, begging him for more of the same. And Billy didn’t disappoint.

He easily forced you to come again, leaving you sopping wet around him, enough that every movement filled the room with a slick sound that might have embarrassed you with any other man. But, with the look on Billy’s face, you were anything but embarrassed. In fact, you were almost proud of the effect you were having on him.

His thrusts became rougher and more stilted and you could tell her was chasing his end as your walls continued to flutter and pulse around him. But that wasn’t enough for Billy.

“Billy!” You cried out as you felt his thumb against your clit, rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves as he continued to fuck you.

“One more, kitten,” he groaned through gritted teeth. “Need you to come one more time.”

Not that you had much say in the matter. If you’d been able to speak, you would have sworn until you were blue in the face that you couldn’t come again, but less than a minute later, you felt that coiling tension again.

Your whole body tensed, every muscle seeming ready to snap as you came for him again, your pussy clenching around his cock so tight that Billy swore. And, a moment later, he was following you over the edge and into oblivion.

It wasn’t until he came that you realised he wasn’t wearing a condom but by then it was too late and you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. You were too fucked-out to even thinking about it beyond knowing you’d need to get the morning after pill. He continued to move, hips jerking roughly against yours, forcing himself into the deepest part of you as he emptied himself. You barely realised that you were moaning his name, over and over, clinging to him and holding him tight, losing yourself in the feelings that you’d spent months denying.

“You’re mine,” he grunted as he finally stilled inside you, his cock buried deep.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t deny it.

In some ways you knew it was true.

He lowered your legs and practically collapsed on top of you, trailing lazy and wet kisses over every inch of skin his mouth came across, while you wrapped your arms tightly around him. You closed your eyes, basking in the afterglow, enjoying the sudden stillness, and the feeling of your bodies still intimately joined.

“You okay?” He asked softly, nuzzling his face against your neck, not seeming to care that you felt like a sweaty and gross mess after all of that.

You gave a gentle hum in response, which clearly wasn’t enough for Billy. His head lifted and he looked at you before he repeated the question.

“Yeah, Billy, I’m good,” you told him.

“It wasn’t... too much?”

Again, something ached inside you. You hated that you were the cause of his doubts and insecurities.

“Billy, I - “ you shook your head, “- no, it wasn’t too much. It was just enough. It was... amazing.”

He smiled as you reached for him, cupping his cheek and tenderly running your thumb over his scarred skin. You leaned up to press a chaste and tender kiss to his lips, smiling softly as the gentle sound that escaped him.

“Good. I only ever want to make you happy.”

“Then stay with me,” you said, remembering exactly what had brought you to this moment in the first place.

“I - I will, but there’s something I have to do first.”

You couldn’t believe that that was the conversation you were having, especially while he was still buried inside you.

“Can - can you just hold me for a little while?” You asked.

There was obviously no point in trying to stop him from leaving, but you knew that you could slow his departure, even if it was just for a little while. Billy didn’t give an answer, instead he slowly pulled out of you, leaving you to feel that slow trickle of his cum between your legs while he settled beside you and gathered you up in his arms.

Somehow, despite everything, you managed to drift off for a little while, held safely in his arms.

But the perfect moment couldn’t last forever.

Billy roused you after forty or so minutes, telling you that he needed to go. You both moved slowly as you got out of bed, dressing as if it was the last thing you wanted to do. Then, you found yourself at the door again, this time in Billy’s arms, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’ll be back. Then we can decide what comes next,” he said.

You nodded but found yourself lost for words until the door was open and he was stepping though. “Be careful, Billy. Please.”

For a second, he paused, no doubt because of the tremor in your voice, but instead of stepping back into the apartment and restarting the whole process all over again, Billy nodded.

Then he was gone.

Fighting, inexplicable tears, you closed the door and headed to the bathroom to shower before ending up back in bed, laying and staring up at the ceiling for a couple of hours until your phone started to vibrate.

“Jenna, what’s -” you started, but Jenna didn’t give you a chance to speak.

“Don’t come into work tonight.”

“What? Why?” Your heart started to pound nervously beneath your ribs.

“The Homeland Agent has been back, asking about Billy... and asking about you,” Jenna said, a seldom heard worry in her voice.

“What about me?”

“I don’t know, Sam said someone - some agent - was asking questions, wanting to know your full name, where you lived, stuff like that.”

Fuck. You felt your chest tighten, your lungs already feeling like they were on fire.

“What did he tell her?” You dared to ask, though you dreaded the answer.

“That he didn’t know - ‘cause he doesn’t, right? He only knows what you’ve told him.”

Thank fuck for that. One of the many reasons you’d taken the job at Sam’s was that he didn’t ask questions; he didn’t care who you were or where you were from as long as you could pull a pint and wouldn’t dip your fingers into the register.

“Fuck, Jenna, what am I gonna do?” You asked, voice trembling, betraying your fear.

“I don’t know, just - just hang tight for a few days, I’ll tell Sam you had a family emergency out of state or something,” Jenna  offered.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just - just be safe, okay?”

“I will.”

The call ended, leaving you filled with dread and panic. Immediately, you tried to call Billy, but there was no response.

You thought about grabbing your bag from the wardrobe and leaving everything behind but, for the first time in your life, you felt like you had real reasons to stay; Billy and Jenna. 

There was no resting, no sitting still as the afternoon gave way to evening. Jenna texted you to let you know that Sam thought you were in Oregon with family, helping arrange a funeral but, other than that, you heard nothing. You tried Billy a few more times but got no answer.

Every noise outside had you on your feet, expecting a knock at the door - or for someone to knock down the door - but it never came.

By the time your phone did ring, you were so fraught that you almost jumped out of your skin.

Billy. It was Billy.

“Billy, I tried to call, Agent Madani is -”

Something stopped you, some horrible noise; a sharp but struggled intake of breath.

“Billy?”

“Kitten, I -” he started, his voice sounding weak, like he was in pain, “- I... I’m sorry.”

Already there were tears in the corners of your eyes and your mind started to race over every worst case scenario you could think of.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on, Billy?”

“It’s all fucked up, I - I thought I could reason with him...”

“Frank? You went to see Frank?”

There was no point trying to hide the panic you were feeling. Every time you’d seen Billy after run-ins with Frank, he’d been left a mess.

“I wanted an end to it but -” he let out a hiss of pain.

“Billy, what’s wrong?” you asked again, desperate for an answer that would assuage all your fears.

“Kitten, I - I think I’m dying...”

End Note : Okay, so, this chapter got longer than intended (lbr it's because of all the smut) so next week will be the last full chapter, but there is also an epilogue planned. I'd say I'm sorry about the cliffhanger ending, but we all know by now that I enjoy leaving you hanging for a week.

As always your comments/likes/reblogs/asks/general screaming is always cherished and appreciated. I hope you all have an amazing weekend!

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters! If tagging doesn't work for some reason (aka Tumblr being dumb) I post most Fridays around 7:30 gmt (and on AO3 at some point in the hours after).

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[follows-the-bees]

How the flipping of Cas' tie in The Man Who Would Be King (6.20) is used to show Castiel's mindset/allegiance

The Cas-centric episode of TMWWBK is the only episode from Cas' perspective, where he speaks directly to the camera, to the audience, but he is actually praying to his father. This entire season Cas has been off and now we find out why. His tie is used to help tell this.

First, we must note Cas' tie has been loose around his neck from the beginning (Lazarus Rising) but along the way, it gets turned backwards as well as he falls from grace.

So let's not go in the order of the scenes in the episode but in more chronological order/places.

The flashbacks.

Heaven

First, we know Cas went back to heaven. He tries to explain freedom and free will to the angels. His tie is backwards during this time. He still thinks he can convince them. He still has free will and no decisions have been made.

Raphael

Raphael calls Cas to a meeting. Asks his allegiance for the civil war. Now, Cas has to take action, make a decision. He decides to go against Raphael. He recruits an army against Raphael. Tie is still backwards.

Crowley (First)

When Crowley first comes to Cas, he, while invisible, is watching Dean rake leaves. His tie is still backwards. He is still thinking about Dean and Sam, not having made up his mind on recruiting Dean. He decides against it, lets Dean have his freedom.

Crowley recruits Cas as his partner, to open purgatory in order to win against Raphael and stop the civil war. Cas' tie is now forward and tighter around his neck. This shows his first steps down the path to Purgatory and the souls.

Present/flashbacks

Cas comes to save the Winchesters this whole season. One scene he said "he has no choice. I did it to protect the boys. Or protect myself. I don't know anymore." After overhearing Dean, Sam, and Bobby's convo that would lead to Crowley and their hidden plan.

He covers his tracks by killing the demons and wiping the place clean. While his motivations are blurring at this point, he still is doing it for selfish reasons, a cover up, so the tie is forward and tight.

The next scene though, Cas makes another choice. He reveals himself to help them. When Crowley sends his demons, his tie has flipped backwards again. He is going against Crowley and the plan and choosing the Winchesters. And as he says "For a brief moment I was me again."

Unfortunately in this moment, he unknowingly reveals that he was spying on Bobby and the brothers. This causes the Winchesters to go on the defense. So when Cas shows up again, he is trapped in the hell fire. His tie is still backwards though. He didn't know they knew.

Crowley (Second)

The two current convos where he talks to Crowley, fights with him over it. He only sees Crowley after Crowley has tried to hurt the Winchesters. Cas is conflicted. He doesn't know what is right. His tie is noticable conflicted as well.

The first scene he sees Crowley, it's facing front. But the second scene it is facing backwards. This scene though, he pushes Crowley against the wall and threatens him if he "touches a hair on their head, I'll tear it all down. Our arrangement. Everything."

We are left with this devastating shot. Cas tells the Winchesters and Bobby to run. To save them. He chooses them once again. His friends. But there is now a rift due to the miscommunication of this season.

Through all the hurt feelings, the miscommunication, decisions have to be made. Cas continues on with the plan and still protecting his friends, and working with Crowley reluctantly. Tie still backwards.

Crowley to Cas:"What are you Castiel? What exactly are you willing to do?"

Cas tries one more time to talk to Dean. But there are too many hurt feelings that any real communication isn't going to happen. Cas has decided to continue his plan no matter what. He does try to explain to Dean and tells him it's because OF him.

Dean doesn't listen and instead just tells him to stop what he's doing. Cas can't. And their rift is official.

Noticably, Cas' tie is now forward.

Present

Now we are at the prayer again. A bookend. Cas has been retelling all of this. He is asking for a sign if what he has chosen is the right path. And he's decided he will do what it takes.

Cas' tie is forward during this speech.

Castiel's tie flips back and forth based on his mindset with the plan of getting the souls out of purgatory to stop the civil war. As the season goes on, he becomes more conflicted with the plan because he becomes closer to the Winchesters again.

The flipping of the tie is used to show his mindset. Cas is using his free will to make decisions without anyone's guidance for the first time. But he doesn't know if it's right. And with Dean and co against him he turns to his father as a last resort.

[xenwrites]

Some theories and speculation for upcoming episodes!

- Stolas depression arc but WORSE™️

- Stolas is gonna wake up to Blitz making him breakfast and doting on him like he always wanted but he's so fucked up from what happened that he can't see it as a sign of love and affection.

- Blitz becoming a rising star, finally, FINALLY getting acknowlegement, money, fame. Then, ego. At some point he'll get so lost in the adoration that he'll start to lose a piece of himself until he hurts someone he cares about (or goes too far) and it draws him back.

- Blitz becoming so busy at work that Stolas spends hours alone in his apartment, just, looking at everything. Snooping a little, when he isn't depressed on the couch. Lonely and isolated while Blitz is happy and unaware, knowing Stolas will be waiting for him at home. Knowing they have time and a chance now. (They don't. Not yet.)

- Stolas will stay with Blitz for a little while but eventually Vassago will show up, and offer him a place to stay that's more suited to his station. (After making sure to look down on Blitz's apartment, with distaste at the photos and the decorations Stolas has come to find charming.)

- Stolas, at his lowest point and feeling that the reason Blitz is doting on him is out of pity and not affection, will accept as to not be a burden and to self flaggilate.

- Blitz is gonna come home excited and maybe with a present for Stolas, or with plans to ask him on a date. Only to find a letter with beautiful calligraphy thanking him for his hospitality and apologizing for being a burden.

- They're gonna miss the hell out of each other.

- Rumors will abound about Stolas and Vassago and Blitz who, having learned love and self sacrifice, and trying not to be selfish, will have to stand back, grit his teeth, and smile like he's happy for him, maybe even say that, despite the pining and ache and jealousy.

- Stolas will take this as confirmation that Blitz doesn't have feelings for him and never will.

- Vassago will, on paper, be the perfect partner for Stolas. Sooo much in common! And so kind and affectionate but Stolas can NOT stop thinking about Blitz.

- To the point where all Vassagos courting attempts fly over his head, which Vassago loses patience with *very* quickly.

- This leads to dark horse villian Vassago with a grudge against Blitz. (Maybe a teamup with Andrealphus who wants Stolas out of the picture entirely not just for 100 years)

- The two of them set a trap which leads to the scene in the trailer with Stolas on the ground and his arm around Blitz, who's brandishing a dagger against Andrealphus.

- The fight is a set up, where Vassago was supposed to "rescue" Stolas (and win his love!) but he's bird blocked by Blitz who saves Stolas instead.

- That fight ends with Blitz and Stolas making out (and acknowledging their feelings for each other) ((but probably not because thats one of the central character conflicts in the show and I doubt they'd resolve it so quickly. Not unless there's going to be a whole other B plot with Stolas as a member of Imp and the show going on instead of just ending entirely with Stolas working there, dating Blitz, both of them finally on even ground. Which is how I think the show will ultimately end.))

But these are just my theories and headcannons and tbh Vizi is incredible at subverting my expectations and making me eat my words so!!!! We'll see!!!!!!

[arthurhillmastermind]

George Clarke replied to your story.

2,172 words. Green circle. Red Circle. what’s the difference?

It all started a few weeks ago when George had posted a random Instagram Story asking fans to add him to their close friends lists so he could rank them for a YouTube video—“best, funniest, cringiest, whatever,” he’d promised with that ridiculous smile. Your group chat had of course collectively lost their minds.

“Oh my God, we have to do this,” someone had declared, already tagging him in a story.

You’d rolled your eyes at first. Sure, George was funny, creative, and admittedly attractive, but you weren’t about to feed his ego by crafting some elaborate story just for his amusement. Still, in the chaos of everyone else freaking out, you’d ended up adding him anyway. Not to make the cut for his video—you didn’t post anything remotely funny or interesting enough—but just to shut the groupchat up. And honestly, you forgot to remove him after.

Then came the thirst trap.

It wasn’t even planned. You’d been bored, playing around with some poses, when your friends dared you to post something from the many photos you’d sent them, a simple selfie where the light hits your face and hair in the perfect way, just to mess with people. It had been a joke, like everything else on your close friends, and you’d captioned it, “This one’s for just you ;)” to really sell the bit.

No one actually expected him to see it.

But George Clarke, the man with an unbelievably high screen time, saw everything. The notification came in mere minutes after you posted it. GeorgeClarkeey replied to your story

“Me?” one word. That was all it took.

“Girls” You typed very quickly

Cue the group chat imploding.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” your friend types back know the message “Girls” meant something had happened.

“George replied to my story”

“HE WHAT?”

“He’s going to think it’s serious.”

“Can we talk about how he responded in record time???”

“He’s going to make this a thing. I feel it in my soul.”

The replies came in at record speed. Sure enough, George wasn’t done yet.

Another message popped up while you were still processing the first: “Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

You groaned, tossing your phone onto your bed. What the hell was going on? George Clarke had a talent for this shit, and now you were directly in the middle of it. Of course it wasn’t specifically for him. It was a joke, a dumb joke fueled by group chat dares and late-night boredom. But now George Clarke was in your DMs, actually engaging, and you had no idea how to navigate this.

You sat down on your bed , unlocking your phone to stare at his messages through your notifications like they might explode if you opened them. What the hell were you supposed to say to that?

“Me?”

“Wait. That was for me, right? Like… actually?”

It wasn’t for him. Not really. But at the same time, it wasn’t not for him, and there was no universe in which you could explain that without sounding ridiculous.

Your phone buzzed again.

“Take your time, I’ll just sit here wondering 😏.”

You groaned, throwing your head back. Why was he like this? Why couldn’t he just scroll past like a normal person? Better yet, why did you still have him on your close friends list in the first place?

The group chat, of course, was zero help.

“Just say it was for him. What’s the harm?”

“Tell him it’s a metaphor. Keep him guessing.”

“Confess your undying love and ask him to follow while you’re at it.”

You sighed, finally flopping onto your bed and opening the messages.

“What if it was?” you typed, hesitating for a moment before hitting send.

Immediately, your heart dropped into your stomach. What had you just done? Before you could spiral too deeply into regret over your reply, another notification popped up on your screen.

GeorgeClarkey started following you.

You froze. What the actual fuck was going on? Was this some elaborate joke for his video? Was he about to screenshot your profile and blast you to his friends and his followers as part of his next roast video?

Panic set in almost immediately. You scrambled to your profile, fingers flying as you opened your highlights. What did I even have on there? Your close friends was one thing, but your highlights were public.

The first highlight was fine. A sunset. Very normal. The second was a random dog you’d seen on a walk. Also fine. The third? Oh God, the third. A blurry photo of your face captioned, “Why am I like this?”

You cringed, hitting the delete button, but before you could delete anything else, another notification lit up your phone.

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story:

“Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Your group chat exploded before you could even blink.

“HE FOLLOWED YOU?!”

“Shut up. He did not.”

“Bestie, you’re famous now.”

“Oh my God he did! i checked his profile! Did he post anything? Has he said anything else?”

You ignored them, heart pounding as you stared at the notification. This couldn’t be real. George Clarke, internet golden boy who had every teenage girl in a chokehold, was actually engaging with you.

What the hell were you going to do?

You stared at George’s message, your mind racing: “Ok but…jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?”

Before you could fully process it, your fingers moved almost instinctively, opening the group chat. You switched to voice notes because typing just wasn’t fast enough to convey the absolute thoughts in your head.

“Guys,” you hissed into the mic, pacing your room. “What the actual fuck is going on? George Clarke just messaged me again. AGAIN. And he said—wait, no, let me read this. He said, ‘Ok but… jokes aside be honest. Is this about me?’”

You paused, pacing more furiously as all your friends started typing back.

“I don’t know what to say!” you continued in the next voice note, your voice slightly higher now. “Like, do I admit it? Do I deny it? Do I block him and change my name? HELP ME.”

The replies came in almost instantly:

“Post the screenshot right now.”

“Oh my God, you’re in a rom-com.”

“Say it was about him and see what happens. Do it for the plot.”

“Voice note us back with the drama or don’t bother replying at all.”

You rolled your eyes, even as you hit record again.

“Okay, fine. I’ll reply. But if this ends with me being clowned in one of his videos, you’re all accomplices.”

With one final deep breath, you typed out:

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. What’s it to you?”

Your thumb hovered for a second, but then you hit send, immediately regretting it as your phone buzzed with another notification.

“Oh, it’s something to me. 😉”

You groaned, sending yet another voice note to the group chat.

“I AM GOING TO SCREAM. He just said it’s ‘something to him.’ WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?”

Your friends weren’t helping, their replies now a chaotic mix of screaming voice notes and unhinged texts.

“He’s into you, bestie.”

“We’re living for this. Keep us updated.”

“I’m adding popcorn to my grocery list.”

Whatever George was playing at, it was… kind of fun.

You stared at his message: “Oh, it’s something to me. ����”

Your heart thudded as you typed out a response, fingers moving on autopilot: “How come?”

For a second, you debated deleting it. Was that too straightforward? Too bold? But before you could overthink it, the message was already sent.

The group chat was on fire.

“WHAT DID YOU SAY???”

“Tell me you asked him why. PLEASE.”

“I’m pacing my room like it’s my drama, what is happening???”

You sent a quick voice note: “I asked him how come. Like, if he’s going to be cryptic, I’m making him work for it. I can’t just let him drop a winky face and get away with it.”

Your phone buzzed before the group could reply. Another message from George.

“Because now I’m curious. Was it really for me?”

You blinked at your screen. Curious? Curious?! Why did he have to phrase it like that? Like this wasn’t a throwaway Instagram post but some grand mystery he needed to solve.

You hit record on another voice note.

“GUYS. He said he’s curious. What the hell does that mean?!” you whispered furiously. “I’m spiraling. Do I double down? Do I back out? Help.”

The replies were just as unhinged as before.

“Double down. Always double down.”

“Tell him it’s his fault for making you curious too.”

“Can we just talk about how into this he clearly is? Like, bestie, he’s invested.”

You shook your head, biting your lip as you typed your next message.

“Maybe it was. Maybe it wasn’t. But now I’m curious—what if it was?”

Your thumb hovered for a moment before you hit send, already bracing for whatever chaos George Clarke was about to unleash next.

The notification popped up almost immediately:

GeorgeClarkey: “Well, if it wasn’t, how come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?”

Your jaw dropped. Oh, he was good. Too good. George Clarke wasn’t just playing along—he was winning.

You immediately switched to the group chat, hitting record on a voice note.

“Guys. He’s onto me. He said—and I quote—‘How come I’m on your close friends and none of my friends are?’” You paused, your voice rising in pitch. “WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT?”

The group chat blew up in record time.

“HE SAID WHAT?!”

“Oh my God, this man is flirting.”

“Deflect. Blame it on the algorithm. Lie if you have to.”

“No, no, you need to hit him back with something. Don’t let him win!”

You sent another voice note, pacing your room as you spoke.

“I don’t even know why he’s still on my close friends! It’s not like I planned this—he asked to be added for that stupid video, and I just forgot to take him off. But if I tell him that, he’s going to think I’m some kind of idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list!”

One of your friends sent a voice note back, barely able to contain their laughter.

“Bestie, you are an idiot who forgot George Clarke was on their list. But now you’ve got him interested, so lean in. Own it. Say something mysterious.”

You sighed, staring at George’s message for a long moment before typing:

“Guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

Your heart was racing as you hit send, half-expecting him to call your bluff immediately. Instead, the little typing bubble appeared almost instantly.

“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”

You practically screamed, sending another voice note to the group chat.

“Guys. GUYS. He’s not just flirting. He’s doubling down. What do I do now?!”

The replies came back rapid-fire:

“Marry him.”

“This is officially fanfiction territory.”

“No, seriously, keep him on the hook. This is your moment.”

You didn’t George’s last message—“Don’t mind if I do. 😏”—because honestly, you needed a minute to think. Or maybe several. So instead of spiraling over how to respond, you stuck to your plan.

Ignoring the little red dot on his message thread, you switched to Instagram stories and posted something casual to your story: a cozy shot of your coffee on the table, framed by the warm tones of a London café from last weekend. The kind of post you always shared on quiet afternoons. You added the café’s location tag for good measure, captioning it simply: Need this.

The group chat was, of course, waiting.

“Update: just posted,” you said in a voice note, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s a café pic. Totally chill, very me. If he reacts to this, I’ll… I don’t know, scream.”

You barely had time to put your phone down before it buzzed with a new notification:

GeorgeClarkey replied to your story.

Your heart jumped as you opened it.

“Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?”

You sat there, staring at the message like it was in a foreign language. George wasn’t just reacting—he was flirting. Again.

“GUYS,” you hissed into a new voice note, pacing your room. “He replied. And get this—he said, ‘Good taste. But why didn’t you invite me?’ Like, is this man serious?!”

The chat erupted in chaos.

“Shut up, he did NOT.”

“He’s basically asking for a date. I’m calling it.”

“You better reply, right now.”

But you weren’t ready to give in that easily. Typing back too quickly would make it seem like you were waiting for him (which you definitely weren’t). So instead, you left his message on read, letting him sit with it while you debated your next move.

Another voice note: “I’m ignoring him for now. Let’s see if he doubles down.”

And honestly, you weren’t sure what thrilled you more: the fact that George Clarke had replied, or the fact that he was now waiting on you.

———————————————————————-

a/n my first george fic! there will be a part two! the formatting hasn’t worked the way it should have but i’ll work on it!

would like to thank George Clarke for seeing my close friends which then let to @pretendyoucantseeme who gave me the idea and @authortelevision for supporting the delusions. love you both😂

if you wanna be tagged in part 2 please let me know! 

[pleasantspark]

Rewriting Hazbin Hotel: Masquerade

Welcome to my series on how I would rewrite the episodes, starting with the most infamously horrendous episode: EP4.

Since this would be a Angel Dust centered Episode, it would heavily talk about AD's backstory in the Mafia, his relationship with his parents, and siblings.

Then it comes to the circumstances to his death how he felt trapped and with no one to help him. And he ended up overdosing.

This episode is supposed to be serious so songs like 'Poison' and 'Loser Baby' are cut from the episode.

Angel Dust obviously will be torn between working for Val and maintaining his rehab treatment, he will obviously end up making excuses for both Charlie and Val to go between the places.

This causes issues where he ends up exhausting all his options and he will be forced to admit he was lying to Charlie, he has to beg her to NOT confront Val, as the Hotel was his only safe haven callback to the line "This hotel is, my Atlantis" from Addict. Because the worse thing for any victim is to have the knowledge that their abuser knows where their safe place is.

Charlie promises Angel Dust she won't tell anyone. But after a couple of incidents and being forced to actually intervene she has to.

Angel Dust begs, and begs, but Charlie being the pilot peak version puts her foot down, she drags her ass over to the Vees Tower (With Angel Dust holding onto her leg begging to NOT do it.)

She confronts Val initially with AD silently overlooking. And when Val catches on that Charlie is here to take his best paying worker. He immediately pretends to be kind and masks his cruelty. (Most people forget the part of an abuser often has them pretending to be nice in order to keep anyone from suspecting a damn thing. That's why most abusers are unfortunately able to not be persecuted because of lack of evidence.) Charlie is still suspicious but can't prod any further because Val announces he has to "award" AD for his friend coming over, which tricks Charlie enough to leave.

Behind close doors Val's other side comes out, he demands to know why the fuck he brought the Princess here, why she's all up in his grill. Basically unleashing an actual true threat. Angel Dust pleads with Val, but to no avail. He's unable to get over it.

After the second traumatizing experience, he comes back into the hotel, and the first thing he sees is alcohol, he's more inclined to indulge in something he deems as a safe coping mechanism, and he does it.

Husk in this episode is made likeable by force, he's concerned about Angel Dust going over the amount of alcohol. And as a responsible bartender was forced to cut him off.

Addictions are hard to quit, so when Husk was taking the ONLY thing he can use to cope he immediately swears at Husk and made him upset.

This is where the "Fake it til you make it" insult comes in, he gets heated and accidentally offends Angie, but before he can properly apologize Angel Dust runs off.

He doesn't run off to the club, but to his bedroom which is also a place he can consider home. It contains images of his family and some of the Hotel.

Angel Dust is also suicidal, I feel like it was stated he was just sick and tired of abuse but not outwardly depressed or suicidal. He convinces himself through all these self hate thoughts was the way he was going to deal with it.

He wanted to end it all, feeling alone, trapped between the fabric of reality. Trapped in a reality.

Then Husk comes in. He asks to have a chat as a bartender to patron.

Husk tells Angel Dust a story about a Demon who was a low class sinner, with no real goal. Who was essentially someone that didn't mark himself properly in Hell, he ended up becoming a powerful Overlord because managing to defeat a particularly powerful Overlord at the time.

Husk mentions this exact Overlord as someone in the third person. Then he mentions this Overlord lost it all on bad decisions and pure greed, before having his soul taken, in this entire dialogue, he finally admits the identity of the Overlord was him.

He mentions that he doesn't know the feeling of being SA'd by his Boss, and will never compare something as serious as that, to himself. He's fully aware that he was once an Overlord, and that he can't just compare his own situation to someone who was barely given a chance to succeed in Hell other than being someone to be used and abused.

But he could rest knowing that he's there to lend an ear. He even said that being stuck in a position to Angel's is a fate he will not force upon anyone not even his worse enemy (Alastor foreshadowing. Because how would he know Al is being on a leash?)

That is my rewrite

[dualnaturedscientist]

Patricia's face was drained of color. If she had blood, it would've run cold. "The Unspoken Ones? That's not good." Everyone looked at Patricia because of what had said. "Do you know of them?" Evangeline inquired. "I've read about them somewhat. I know that if they ever attempt to bring the unspoken ones into this realm, everything will cease to exist." Evangeline nodded at that. "She is correct. Once their feet touch the ground, all of life will be deceased. There won't be any survivors. Myra has been using these poor unfortunate souls for something horrible. Sacrifices to the Unspoken Ones. Myra and Drake became high-ranking acolytes. They made a deal to become immortal. Myra had done so many years ago. Drake had done so not that long ago. They were planning on using these unlucky as sacrifices to The Unspoken Ones. I had no idea about this until it was much too late. I was trying to get to you, and that was vigilant, but they had taken me. Knocked me unconscious. I woke up in the tube. Seeing their malevolence faces. Smirking at me with cold eyes. That was the last thing I saw before the young one saved me. Matthew, please. Will you help us defeat your mother and set these poor souls free from their prison?" Matthew thought for a moment. "I'm able to kill Myra?" That thought... bothered him a bit. He hated her. Matthew truly did. There was a bark. Zosimos nudged at Evangeline's leg. "Oh, what's wrong, sweetie?" The woman picked up the dog. Matthew frowned. The memories he had of her. They weren't nice like this. She wasn't gentle or kind with him. He took a deep breath before his hands began to spark. "Where is this place? We can go check together." Gene gave his father a strange look at that. "I'm not letting you get hurt, pops." Matthew shook his head. "I am going to do so. If Evangeline is telling the truth. I have to help save those people. I can handle myself. I promise. My demonic powers will protect me from these beings.” He looked back at the woman. His eyes are still cold to her. She understood why he felt this way to her. The way she trained him. It was a strict order by Drake. Of course she did so. Having been brainwashed into doing what he wanted. Evangeline wished she wasn't so blind. Someone she basically idolized because he was kind to her at her lowest moment in life. “I am going as well, I assume.” They shook their heads. “No. You're staying here

“ Evangeline looked shocked at that. “I know where the location is. With all of us. They'll be freed from this… evil business that Myra and Drake were running. Please let me assist you. It won't be like in the past. That I can promise you. Know that you suffered because of the training. I'm so sorry for that. But let us pet aside feelings. There's trapped innocent souls in there. We need to free them. We need you to face off with Myra. You're the only one who could.”

@ninjastormhawkkat

"Hold on a minute, some weird guy is staring at me. Probably some bum trying to get change off of me." Comments like that had ensured he would absolutely be relieved of guilt for what was to happen next. A smile spreads across the figure's facial features, revealing inhumanly sharp teeth glinting in the street lights. A hand quickly shot out, taking a hold of the rather obnoxious man. "What the hell are you doing-" A scream soon pierced the quietness of the night. It quickly became a horrendous gurgling noise. The cellphone in the man's hand had fallen in the process. Leaving the person on the other end to become worried and confused about what was happening to the man. It didn't take very long for the man to become completely still. The figure allows him to finally fall to the cement below, licking at his blood stained lips in satisfaction. "The night, it is still so young. I don't think I shall waste another minute on you." Like a ghost in the night, he had vanished. As if he were never there. Leaving only the grotesque mess he had made for others to find. Unknown to him, there was a witness to this who had seen the whole thing. Watching in complete and utter fear. The figure grinned, it was as if he were seeing the world through different eyes. The opportunities that awaited him. It sent a shiver of excitement up his spine. His thirst might have satiated but he wasn't satisfied with only that. Oh no. There was so much more he had in mind for this city. Just wait till morning until they discover his little surprise for all to see. It wasn't until hours later did he finally return to the house. Feeling pleased with himself. Carl shot up in bed, heart racing so fast within his chest. Calming down once realizing he was in bed with Matthew. It took the retired scientist to recognize his surroundings. "That's right.. we're at Gene's place." The dream he had woken up from was already fading from his memory. It was rather absurd, recalling what he could. He could've sworn the dream was incredibly vivid and felt so real. But the little bits of the dream that he did remember became fuzzy and distant in his mind. Carl wasn't as quiet as he thought. Matthew had woken up. "Love, are you okay?" His voice had brought Carl from his thoughts. "Matthew, dearest. I hadn't meant to wake you up." He frowned, feeling guilty as he wanted his husband to get as much rest as needed. "It's alright, I needed to get up early anyway. Don't feel bad, my darling. I'm worried about you, though.” He gave Matthew a smile. “It was just a dream. I was just startled from a dream. I don't even remember what happened in it anymore. I'll be fine.” Matthew pulled the other into his arms, holding him in such a comforting manner. Placing a loving kiss to Carl's forehead. “Even so, I've still got you.” The former scientist blushed. Matthew still had such an effect on him even after all this time. “Thank you, my love.” They had stayed like that for a good while. It wasn't until Carl noticed the time that he forced Matthew to get out of bed and to get ready for his community service. Though there was something that had been bothering Carl since waking up. He had not remembered going back to bed after his conversation with Gene last night. No matter how much he tried to, it just kept coming up blank to him. Carl sighed, he must've been that tired that he didn't remember. He was getting up there in age. “I could stay back. Margaret won't be very happy about it but I don't want to leave you if you're not okay.” Carl smiled once more. “I'm not going to be responsible for what she'd do if you tried. You're also expecting a new face there, aren't you?” Matthew looked surprised at that. He had completely forgotten about that. And Carl did make a point. Wincing at the thought of what Margaret might do if he actually did skip out on it. Though for Carl, it would've been absolutely worth it. Whatever punishment she'd dole out, he'd endure for his dearest husband. “Go get dressed now.” Matthew chuckled at that before doing as he said. Leaving Carl to this thoughts.

Carl still felt unsettled by the dream, it was like he was walking through a mist. Yet at the same time it was like someone or something was controlling his body and actions. The dream was scary, but also ludicrous. At one point Carl thought he saw someone who looked like his old narcissus ex boyfriend who he never thought about again until now. Carl just let out a sigh and shook his head. 'It was just a nightmare.' Carl reassured himself. He remembered how reading how the mind and senses can trick the body into thinking something is real when it isn't. His strange dream was just one of those cases. Carl decided to get out of bed and go downstairs. He was going to try and help his son and other son-in-law deal with this strange and frightening case of kidnapping. Carl pushed away the issue of the nightmare and headed downstairs, ignoring the feeling of dread in the back of his mind. Carl also did not pay attention to that fact that his mouth was no longer dry and that there was no glass cup on the nightstand when he got up that morning. Atomic Steele surveyed the area with caution and an intense gaze. He was going over the area looking for something out of the ordinary. Something that had bothered his friend and teammate Electric Blur. Something in this seemingly abandoned area affected Blur's powers. "I wasn't sure what just happened. It felt like I was suddenly communicating emotionally with a strange energy wave that was being transmitted from there. I felt uneasy and scared...but also sad for some reason." That is what Blur told Atomic when she came back to their hideout looking shaken and worried. She told him she never felt anything like that before, not even from the fallen B.E.A.W labs. Atomic Steele offered to check it out for her as the young heroine wasn't keen on returning to the spot. While Electric Blur was being comforted by her other teammates, Atomic followed the directions the heroine had given him to the location where she felt the strange and unsettling energy. What Atomic Steele found when he got there was a large but abandoned warehouse surrounded by an empty field. The area was surrounded by a rusted, wired fence. The place looked like it hadn't been used for years. Still, the normally brave yet brash young hero couldn't help but feel a child go up his spine. His gut and instincts telling him there is something dangerous here, something evil. Atomic Steele walked up to the doors of the warehouse. He grabbed at a rusted handle and tried opening it. To the hero's surprise and growing caution, the door easily unlocked. Atomic Steele took a deep breath and steadied his nerves. He then proceeded inside the warehouse in a slow pace, ready to discover what laid inside. "Oh hello there Matthew. Cutting it a bit close are we." Miss Dewey lightly teased the former villain as he just came into the library to start his community service. "Sorry about that Miss Dewey. I had some problems this morning but I'm here now." Matthew replied, feeling a bit embarrassed about cutting things close. He really didn't want to leave Carl and Gene alone during the family crisis that was happening but at the same time he really didn't want to test the limits of his second chance at freedom from prison. Miss Dewey gave the man a look of sympathy and concern. "You know, if there is a serious problem going on at home, I wouldn't mind helping you fill out some forms to request a temporary leave from your community service." The librarian offered. Matthew smiled in appreciation at her kind gesture. "Thank you Miss Dewey but I'll be alright." Matthew responded. "So has the new service worker arrived yet?", the former villain asked. Miss Dewey smiled and nodded. "Yes he is here. Matthew, allow me to introduce you to Frank Leigh." Matthew glanced over to the man Miss Dewey introduced. He looked to be a few years older than Victor but still younger than Matthew and Carl. He had dark hair and light, blueish gray eyes. The man gave a friendly wave to Matthew. "Hi nice to meet you." Frank spoke in a kind tone. @dualnaturedscientist

[carnivalls]

good morning. thinking again of juve and her dog

[musingmycelium]

. noncoherent but also thoughts

[foxgirlmoth]

I think the night time was created to miss your wife when you don't live with her yet

[swordmaid]

in my hc the noble houses of menzoberranzan operate similarly to the houses in ice and fire where they’re constantly feuding with each other but instead of trying to take the throne/control of the whole realm they’re all fighting for lolth’s favour instead. and because they can’t outright declare war on each other (forgot the reason for why they can’t exactly do that but iirc lolth doesn’t like it?? she loves the drama I guess) and if they rise too quickly lolth casts them down so they have to be cunning about it. not to mention if they stay too long in power and do nothing about it that also displeases the spider queen so the nobility’s game of intrigue is constantly moving and working both for self gain and for self preservation.

shri’iia also plays the game but more of a pawn than a player. she’s not born from any noble house (she’s actually a commoner). the only reason why she has any foot in the game is that she’s taken in by the matriarch of faen tlabbar - one of the houses who fervently worships lolth to the point of zealotry - when they’ve heard word that she—a commoner—have managed to succeed lolth’s trials and gained her blessing. lolth blessings are rare to come and making someone a paladin is even more rare so for a zealot house, that’s a a sign they can’t pass up. so, the house matriarch takes her in and keeps in a tower where she’s supposed to pray and train to lolth day and night. the paladin oath that shri’iia swears is both for lolth and her matriarch; she swears to punish the enemies of her mistresses and forever keep her loyalty to them. her matriarch’s word is an extension to lolth’s will, so to disobey her will be disobeying lolth herself.

and ofc shri’iia being born poor with everything to give and nothing to lose, who thought that there is more to her life than a merchant’s daughter, to be known by the goddess she worship and noticed by one of the most influential houses in the city, swears herself to that oath. she never regretted that choice not even when she’s kept in that tower in complete isolation with her matriarch being the only person she could interact with.

[cherrysnax]

wahwahwah

[lostfracturess]

seven minutes of misunderstanding — satoru gojo

of all the ridiculous situations you've found yourself in, being trapped in a closet with satoru gojo has to top the list. especially when you're convinced he's dating his best friend.

Of all the places you expected to end up tonight, being crammed in a tiny closet with Satoru Gojo wasn't one of them.

A stupid campus party game had somehow led to this moment—you, him, and about fifteen winter coats in a space barely big enough for one person, let alone two.

You're painfully aware of every point where your bodies touch — your back against his chest as you try to avoid the hanging coats, his breath tickling your neck, his hand awkwardly hovering somewhere near your waist like he's not sure where to put it.

The closet is so small that when you attempt to turn around to face him (because somehow facing him seems less intimate than having his breath on your neck), your chest brushes against his.

You hear his sharp intake of breath, feel the way his body tenses against yours. You're so close to him in a way it makes your skin tingle, and you're grateful for the darkness hiding your blush.

"So..." Satoru drawls. "Come here often?"

"Did you seriously just—" You try to gesture incredulously and end up elbowing him in the ribs with enough force to make him grunt. "Shit, sorry!"

You try to put some distance between you but that only results in you stepping on his foot. "Oh god, I'm so sorry! Again!"

"Just—don't move," he says, his hands finally finding your shoulders to hold you still. You feel the warmth of his palms through your shirt as he clears his throat. "We could just... not do anything. Nothing has to happen if you don't want it to. We can just wait it out."

The consideration in his voice surprises you. You try to see his face in the darkness and end up with a mouthful of fuzzy coat. After spitting out what you hope isn't synthetic fur, you say, "That's really sweet of you. And like, I get it. This must be super awkward for you too."

"Awkward?" He sounds puzzled.

"Yeah, I mean... being stuck in here with a girl when you're..."

"When I'm what?"

"You know..." You wave your hand vaguely in the narrow space. "I just meant, like, with you and Geto..."

There's a moment of complete silence, and then Satoru starts laughing so hard you can feel him shaking against you. "You think— me and Suguru? Oh my god, is that why you turned me down for lunch last month?"

"Wait, what? I thought you were just being nice! You're always hanging all over Geto—"

"Because he's my best friend."

"And that time I saw you feeding him—"

"He had a broken arm!"

"The couples' costume at Halloween—"

"We were Mario and Luigi! They are brothers."

Every explanation makes you want to dissolve into the floor more. "Oh my god," you say. "You know everyone on campus thinks you're gay—not that there's anything wrong with that! I totally support you two, you're so cute together and—"

"Can you please stop," he interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips to silence you. "I am very, very interested in women."

Your heart skips. "Oh, really?"

"Yes." His voice drops lower as he removes his finger from your lips. "One woman in particular, actually." You can feel him lean closer. "And she's currently pressed up against me in a very small closet."

"Oh," is all you can manage, your brain short-circuiting as you process his words. You try to lean back slightly, but there's nowhere to go, and suddenly his face is very close to yours.

Then he asks a question you never thought Satoru Gojo would ever ask you. "Can I kiss you?"

The question is soft, almost vulnerable—so unlike the usual Satoru you know. When you don't immediately respond, too shocked to form words, his hand comes up to gently cup your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze in the darkness. "Can I kiss you?" he asks again, his thumb brushing across your lower lip.

A breathless "yes" escapes your lips before you can overthink it.

The first brush of his lips against yours is gentle, questioning, like he's afraid you might change your mind.

Then you grab his shirt and pull him closer, and gentle goes right out the window. He kisses like he's trying to prove a point, like he's been thinking about this for ages, and oh — maybe he has been.

His hands slide from your face to your waist, pulling you flush against him as he deepens the kiss. You gasp against his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to sweep his tongue against yours, drawing a small sound from your throat that makes him grip you tighter.

"Still think I'm gay?" he says against your jaw, trailing kisses down your neck that make your knees weak.

"Not sure," you tease him, even as your head tilts back to give him better access. "Might need more convincing."

You feel him smile against your neck. "More convincing, huh?"

In one fluid motion, he presses you more firmly against the wall, his body completely flush against yours. One of his hands slides into your hair while the other grips your hip, thumb stroking the strip of skin where your shirt has ridden up.

"Let me be very clear then." He punctuates each word with a kiss. "I am very—" kiss "—very—" kiss "—interested—" kiss "—in you."

His hand tightens in your hair as his tongue sweeps against yours, drawing a small whimper from your throat that makes him groan in response.

"God," he breathes against your lips, pulling back just enough to speak. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?"

You can't form a coherent response because he's already kissing you again, harder this time, more desperate. Something falls off a nearby shelf as you shift against him, but neither of you care.

You're so lost in each other that you don't hear the warning knock. The door flies open, flooding the space with light and the sounds of party chaos.

"God, finally!" Geto's voice breaks through the stunned silence. "Do you know how long I've had to watch him pine over you?"

"Suguru, I will literally murder you," Satoru growls, but he doesn't let go of you. Instead, he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear. "Wanna leave this party?"

And oh, you do.

© lostfracturess. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

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