#I've been on both sides of 'fixing' nonsense

[cloudbattrolls]

do I just not like the idea of "fixing" someone? yes, but also, I genuinely think pale is more interesting when that's not what it's about. feels unhealthy to me if it was anyway.

[cosmicporos]

Arcane character x GN! Reader on Period.

synopsis: Just some period comfort hcs with Viktor, Jayce, Vi, Ekko, Mel and Jinx!

Warning: Cursing. 18+ FOR JINX, no smut but somewhat spicy. Rest of the characters are fluff.

Please enjoy! So sorry it took me so long!

Viktor

He’s very educated on menstrual cycles to begin with! (Biology nerd)

Definitely has a calendar and keeps track of all your cycles.

The day before you’re supposed to get your period he comes home from shopping and restocks on food and pads, tampons, ibuprofen etc.

Would definitely give you a massage to help with cramps.

“Beloved?” Viktor knocked from behind the door before proceeding to enter your shared room. "I got what you needed," he said, setting down the grocery bag containing both the tampons and pads. “And these," he added, revealing a variety of your favorite chocolates, salty chips, and even a bottle of your preferred tea.

You blinked at him, your expression shifting from surprise to gratitude. "You didn't have to-"

“Tsk, tsk, tsk” He quickly shushed you. His free hand reaching to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I wanted to. Now, do me a favor and relax." Before you could protest or question any further, he knelt down by your side, his clever hands carefully lifting the edge of the blanket. "Turn over, Darling” he coaxed, and when you complied, he placed his hands on your lower back, his touch warm and deliberate.

"I read this helps," Viktor murmured as his fingers began to work small, soothing circles into your tense muscles. You feel your muscles loosen and quickly melt into Viktor’s touch.

His hands run a little on the colder side, yet they still work their magic and alleviate the pain in your abdomen.

"You're too good to me," you murmured, your voice muffled as you rested your head against your arm.

"Nonsense," Viktor replied, his voice low and unwavering. "You endure so much… this is the least I can do." He says leaving a small gentle kiss on your cheek.

Jayce

He’s the biggest softy for you on your period oh boy oh boy oh boy. He is completely at your beck and call.

He’s also super carful about your emotional during this time. He tries his hardest to leave work on time and come home!

He understands mood swings can happen and he’s very patient! He accidentally messed up and ticked you off? He’ll nod along as you lecture him and act like a kicked puppy. Then afterwards will ask if you’re okay and if you need space. Will 100% make up and apologize by getting you a sweet treat :3

Jayce finally made his way back home, shoulders heavy and tense. his tie askew and his hair slightly mussed, looking like he'd run the entire way home. You stand up from your place on the couch and place a soft kiss on his lips. “Welcome home” you smile at home before your eyes lower to see an empty handed Jayce. "You forgot?" you said quietly, your voice heavy with disappointment.

Jayce froze, guilt washing over his face. "Forgot what?"

"The heating pad," you replied, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. "You said you'd grab it on your way home. I've been in pain all day, Jayce."

His heart sank. "Oh no," he whispered moving to run a hand down his hair. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I don't know how I missed it…”. He thinks for a moment before he says, “That’s on me, and I'll fix it right now!" He turned to leave, planning to head straight back to the lab.

"No... that's alright Jayce, just please remember next time." You grab hold of his sleeve. He let out a soft sigh and turned around to face you.

"I'm so sorry about that sweetheart... Honestly I was just excited to get back home to you is all." He mumbled into your hair as he pulled you into a hug.

"No no it's fine really, it's not too big of a deal" The warmth of his body slowly encapsulating itself protectively over you.

“No you should be upset it’s okay! I’ll be more responsible next time.” His puppy eyes glowing as if he almost wanted you to be mad at him. It was incredibly difficult to deny Jayce whenever he would behave like this…

“I uh…. O-okay?…. Please do better next time.” Your eyes are looking at anything else but at him.

"... you need to be mad at me until I figure out how to make it up to you." His strong arm coming up from behind to softly pat your side. "How does that sound?"

You laugh off the pervious nerves “I think that sounds perfect" You tilt your head up to face him and press a warm soft kiss to his cheek.

Vi

Okay I feel like for Vi for some reason you two would always be synced

She’s all tough and prepared on day one until day two hits and… that’s a different story

You always end up completely staying home together on the second day of your periods

You groaned as another cramp hit, curling further into yourself under the layers of warmth. Next to you, Vi let out a sharp exhale through her nose, gripping the heat pack on her stomach.

"This is some sick joke," Vi muttered, her voice heavy with irritation. She shifts on the bed, but the movement only made her wince. "I could take a punch to the gut, no problem, but this? This is worse than any fight I've been in."

You scoot closer towards Vi drapes an arm over you, pulling you snug against her chest. Her hand found your hair, fingers threading through it lazily.

"We're a mess," you mumbled into her tank top.

"Yeah," she admitted, pressing her cheek against the top of your head. "But at least we're a mess together."

Vi is totally one to do a complete 180 on the next day.

While you’re still dying of pain she manages to get out of bed early and heads to the store to pick up some stuff

Vi's heavy boots thudded softly against the floor, the sound bringing a flicker of relief. "Alright, babe," her familiar rasp broke the silence, “I got a couple of things for you”

“Don’t you mean us?” You sit up straight and tilt your head a little confused.

“Oh no, I’m doing fine sweetheart don’t you worry. But… I know you probably still feel like a sack of shit so I picked up some goodies for you.” she pulled out an assortment of snacks like chips, gummy candy, soda, juice..(if it had sugar she’s go it!…)

“If these cramps won’t kill me… the amount of sugar here will…” Your eyebrows furrowed at the mess of snacks in front of you.

“Oh pip down will you? Haven’t even gotten to the best part.” What she pulled out next made your breath hitch. It was a small, ridiculously cute plushie. A chubby fox with big shiny eyes and a fluffy tail. Vi plopped it onto your lap as she smirked from your reaction. “Cute huh?” She sits down next to you. “I picked it out cuz it reminded me of you”

Your face flushed instantly, a mix of embarrassment and warmth flooding through you. You picked up the fox, turning it over in your hands. Its fluffy tail was so soft it almost felt unreal, and the wide, shiny eyes seemed to sparkle in the dim light of the room. "Reminded you of me?" you asked, glancing at Vi with a raised brow.

“Yeah well… it’s cute and small.. so it reminds me of you.” She leaned back against the headboard, “And it’s a little spunky. Just like you.”

You roll your eyes and softly punch her shoulder. "It does cheer me up," you admitted softly, clutching the plush fox closer. "Thank you, Vi."

She wraps an arm around you shoulder and pulls you in “No problem Cupcake, anything for you.”

Ekko

HES PANICKING

but in the outside he’s cool as a cucumber

The inside? oh god. He’s stressing out about making sure all your needs are met.

You are not allowed to go on missions during this time at all. He doesn’t exactly forbid it per say but he does shoot a glare whenever you flinch due to the pain of your cramps. He’s always behind you making sure you’re okay

He’s like a little momma bird

You were currently getting ready for a mission, bag laying across the table as you carefully prepare stuffing it full of food, medical supplies, bombs and your trusty lock pick. Ekko leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching you with that ever so perceptive gaze of his.

"You good?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Yeah, fine," you replied, wincing as another cramp twisted in your stomach. You shake your head cursing at your own reaction.

He was by your side in seconds, gently taking the pack from your hands. "You're lying."

“Ekko please…” you straightened your back. "I'm fine," you insisted, reaching for the pack again, but Ekko held it out of reach.

reach.

"You think I don't notice you wincing every five seconds?" His voice softened, though his eyes stayed firm. "You can't go out like this.”

“I’m not some baby. Believe me I’ll be just fine.”you protested, though even you could hear how unconvincing you

“Look… you sound way too unconvincing and because you’re way too stubborn…” He paused looking at you and finally smiling. “How about I skip out on this mission too? And you know.. take care of my girl?.” A proud and playful smile adorns his lips while he waits for your response.

You’re a little surprised, not because he doesn’t put you first but because he’s allowing himself to relax in a way as well. “Are you sure about that?" you ask, your voice softer than you intended. "I mean... this mission sounds important. I don't want you to–“

"Stop." He cuts you off gently, stepping closer. The distance between you shrinks, and you feel his hand come to rest on your shoulder, steady and warm. "I've been out there long enough to know the world ain't gonna fall apart if I sit one out." He takes a deep breath and continues, "I know I push myself too hard sometimes. And yeah, protecting our people is important and all, but so is being here. With you. What's the point of fighting if I can't take a moment to enjoy what I'm fighting for?"

“Ekko…” His words hit you harder than you expected, the vulnerability in them catching you off guard.

"Yeah firefly?…” He tilts his head, watching you carefully. His hands fidgeting together like a nervous child.

You let out a small sigh, your resolve crumbling. "Just... don't make a habit of this, okay? The Firelights need you."

"They'll manage," he says with a wink. "I'll make it up to 'em. Promise." He finally makes his way over to you placing a small kiss on your neck before continuing. “But let me make it up to you first okay?”

Jinx

18+

Okay jinx is an absolute horndog when you’re on your period

You got cramps? Uhhhh…. Solution????… her mouth and fingers.

“Love bug come onnnnnn! You know making you cum will help with cramps! What’s the big deal?” She sighed dramatically flopping over the table in front of her.

“Love bug?…” You questioned. “And the deal is I’m on my period!…. I don’t want to make a big mess for you to deal with okay.” You huffed out embarrassed at her playful yet lewd antics.

“Yeah! Love bug cuz you love me and you’re always buzzing around me! Like a bug!” Jinx proudly exclaimed her bright idea of a nickname, perhaps a bit too proudly… “And besides! Me?… care about a mess? You’re kidding right?” she looks almost offended but the fact you assumed she wouldn't do this for you.

“Jinx… I just feel gross okay… I don’t really feel super desirable right now.” You sighed placing your face into your hands.

She bangs her fists on the table and jumps up from her seat. “You’re fucking joking right? You’re smoking babe. SMOKING. Like SMOKING HOT! Her arms waved around as she talked to draw out more emphasis to her claim. She lets out a playful scoff “It’s taking every fiber of my being to not pounce on you right now!”

“Jinx… knock it off…” you bit your lip embarrassed and turned away. “I know that isn’t true at all… quit being too nice.”

“Doll…. You’re way too into your own head! I’m saying I wanna bang and you think I’m lyin?” She puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. “No no no we can’t be having that! Doll come here.”

Your expression as you looked at her told Jinx you in fact did not know who to believe. You’re corrupt emotions or your loving girlfriend? Either way you walked to her and stopped till you were in front of her. She quickly cupped your face and pulled you into a deep inviting kiss. Her hands roam softly along your body, gently holding and squeezing every part she loved.

She breaks away from the kiss and looks at you, her voice more serious than you’d like it to be. “Y/N you’re always going to be perfect to me, there’s no way in hell l’d ever be grossed out by you.” She leans in closer and softly leaves kisses along your collar “Besides I wanna love you. I wanna make you feel so crazy good you won’t even remember all your dumb troubles.”

Mel

MEL MEL MEL MEL MEL 😻 fancy rich lady who spoils you

While I do think she’ll still be super busy with work, she’ll most definitely make sure your body is been taken care of.

She lets the chef know your nutritional needs, taking notes you need more iron in your diet.

And when she does come home it’s all kisses, cuddles and praise getting sent your way!

Since she could remember, Mel could take care of just about anything. It didn’t matter if it was a delicate political negotiation or ensuring you felt cared for on your worst days, she had an effortless way of making you feel like the center of her world

The moment she left for the council meeting that morning, you heard her speaking quietly with the private chef, listing off ingredients and dietary adjustments with her usual precision. "She needs more iron," you overheard her say, her voice warm yet firm. "Spinach, lentils, maybe some lean meat. And add something sweet but not too high in sugar content. She deserves to enjoy herself, but make sure it stay healthy for my sake.

Hours later, as you lay curled up on the couch, a warm blanket draped over you, the scent of something savory wafted through the air. The chef had outdone himself, delivering a meal tailored exactly to what your body needed, paired with a small plate of indulgent chocolate covered fruits. It brought a soft smile to your lips. Mel always thought of everything, she always thought of you.

the front door finally opened, the sound of her heels clicking on the marble floor announced her arrival. You craned your neck to look at her, and the moment her golden eyes landed on you, her expression softened.

"There's my love," she murmured, setting her things aside and making a beeline for you.

"Hello darling, long day?" you asked, your voice soft.

"Not anymore," she replied, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead before settling beside you on the couch. Her hand came up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin. "How are you feeling? Did you eat?"

You nodded. "The food was perfect. Thank you for taking care of it."

“Oh? So you heard me did you?”She hummed in satisfaction, pulling you gently into her. Her arms wrapped around you snugly, her fingers trailing softly along your back in soothing patterns. "You've been so strong," she whispered. "But you don't have to be right now. Let me take care of you”

You melted into her embrace, feeling the tension in your body ease as she held you. "You deserve the world," she murmured, her voice full of affection. "And I intend to give it to you, one kiss or gentle word at a time. You will be shown my love”

ERM SO A LINE FROM JAYCE’S PART IS FROM XAVIER’S NEW CARD FROM LOVE AND DEEPSPACE! I recently pulled it and oh my god…. It’s been stuck in my mind…. ANYWAYS HOPE YOU ENJOYED

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Private Dances [3]

Club!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info • series masterlist •

A/N: A massive thank you to the amazing @midgardian-witch for being so wonderful and proofreading this nonsense AND for hyping me up AND saving my ass with switching tenses (why am I like this?) Another huge thank you to the epic @lonelyisamyw-0love for tipping my ko-fi, this series is especially for them💚

Warnings: overuse of italics, sub!Blue, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a dancer (but like Blue is so lovesick), swearing, oral (f! receiving), Blue being a little shit, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

There are 5 main ‘stars’ in the club: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal. Crystal is usually the favourite but is currently in Blue’s bad books for reasons unknown to the reader. Reader is a backup dancer that Blue has named Lion.

Word Count: 3329

A Great View of the Hall

This was going to be a problem. 

Scratch that. 

More than a problem.

You stare at the half open garment bag hanging on the back of your door as if your glare could fix a hole in time and space. 

Blue held stupidly lavish events every three months or so, a big excuse to close the club to all save those who were ready to pay big bucks. And boy, were there a lot of clients willing to throw their cash around. 

Shows, and food, and gambling, and drinks, and everything dialed up to fucking eleven. 

All the staff’s outfits were new, usually fitting some theme that Blue had chosen on a whim, and none of the dancers ever got to see what they were going to be wearing until it was literally time to get dressed. Not that that was a problem. That was normal. Routine. The same as always. 

The problem was your outfit. Your dress. It was fucking blue.

There was only one unspoken rule every time he threw these fucking events, and that was that the main stars: Peach, Trixie, Songbird, Sweetie Pie, and Crystal, were the only ones in blue. Not you. 

Gorski must have given you the wrong dress. There must have been some kind of mistake. You shake your head, trying to shake yourself free of the vice like grip of anxiety that was taking hold of your heart. 

Simple fix. Simple. 

You grab the garment bag, zip it back up and leave your small room to find the Madam. She was, unsurprisingly, busy. Helping others fix their costumes, all a dark purple, directing others into position on the floor or stage behind the scenes. The doors had already opened for the ‘exclusive’ guest, the party ramping up into full swing. 

She tuts when she sees you, “What are you doing? You’re not ready?” 

“I was given the wrong dress.” You swallow, seeing some of your fellow back up dancers out of the corner of your eye in their wine purple corsets and short frilly shirts.

Gorski frowns at you, unimpressed. “Not another one.” She mutters under her breath, almost too quiet for you to hear. “Let me see.” 

You hold the bag out to her and she tuts again, not even bothering to open it. “Here,” she flips white paper card tied around the hanger's neck, ‘Lion’. “This one’s yours.” 

“No, it’s-”

“Mr Jones oversaw your clothing. I am not having any more arguments about outfits today.” She says, her voice clipped. She only ever used ‘Mr Jones’ when she was stressed and pissed. She turns to raise her voice curtly to another dancer before looking back at you. “Any other problems?” 

Despite the pause she gave you it was clear she would only accept one answer.

You manage to bite your tongue and shake your head.

“Good.” She dismisses you with a wave of her hand, waiting until you are nearly out of the backstage rooms for her to call after you, “and hurry up!”

. 

The dress is long, almost trailing on the floor, with a slit on the left side that ends just before the fullest part of your hip. There is an ornate chain holding both sides together at your upper thigh, a tiny golden lion dangles from the chain, it’s just enough to keep the dress from exposing you while you walk.  Which is a small blessing as there is no way you can wear any underwear without it being on show. 

You growl deep in your throat, your mind replaying snippets of your last encounter with Blue. His arms around your waist as he practically sobs into your stomach. 

This must be some kind of twisted punishment, a way to put you on show in front of everyone. It wasn’t like you could outwardly disobey him in front of clients and his goons, there was no way you would be able to wrap your fingers around his throat, squeeze, and make him crumble. 

You check your makeup in the small mirror and adjust the dress. It’s a bright, royal blue, with a plunging neckline and small over the shoulder straps. The material is soft, comfortable even. And you hate it. Hate that part of you likes it. Hate that he picked it. 

Hate, hate, hate it. 

At least you could maybe blend in with the ‘stars’, they’d be in the exact same dress and colour. 

. 

Somehow you manage not to scream profanities the second you walk into the club. The music is loud, the stage occupied while others serve drinks to the patrons, seated and watching. There are some talking in booths, girls in their lap pretending to be interested in their conversation, while others gamble with dancers on their arms, egging them on. 

All of them are in the same dark purple. Which isn’t surprising. 

The problem is Trixie, the first star you spot. Her dress is shorter, the neckline a queen ann cut, and the colour is a dark navy. You see Peach next, her dress the same as Trixie, then Songbird and Sweetie Pie. All of them dressed in mirror images of each other. You stand out sorer than a thumb. 

Exactly what you would like to not do. 

The realisation makes you freeze, the anxiety from before growing monstrously and taking root, fixing you to the floor. You’re going to be sick, you’re going to-

“Ah, Lion.” Blue grins wickedly as he snakes his hand around your hip and pulls you close to his side. “I was looking all over for you.” 

You glare at him. If looks could kill he’d already have bullet holes in his chest. 

He chuckles at your stare. “Feisty as ever,” he brushes the tips of his fingers along your jaw, pressing softly against your chin to tilt your head to the side so he can place a soft kiss to your cheek. “Behave.” He whispers, his breath hot against your skin. 

The underlying threat is there, clear as night: or else. 

You plaster the fakest smile on your face, practically a sneer, and his grin widens. 

“Oh, much better Lion, much better.” He nuzzles into your neck for a second, the briefest touch as he breathes deeply and sighs contentedly. 

You stiffen as a flush of heat runs along your skin from where he touched you, racing downwards. 

“Come, I’m just speaking with some old friends,” he guides you to the table, slightly secluded from the main hustle and bustle, but still with a good view of the stage. He keeps his arm around you, his fingers playing with the little lion on the chain.

Somehow you manage to resist the urge to slap his hand away. 

There are three other men seated, two you recognise as regular patrons of the club. Highrollers, dangerous. The third you’re not familiar with, but his suit is sharp and his eyes are vicious. 

To your surprise there are no other dancers at the table, no one doing their best to fawn over any of these men. You swallow, the anxiety sharp as it cuts in deeper. 

Each of them has their own guards, a far distance away but obvious to spot and surely ready to snap into action at a moment's notice. 

This was all very, very not good. 

Still, you manage a polite, and pretend sincere, smile as Blue introduces you to them. Astonishingly, all three stand to greet you, take your hand as you offer it to them (Blue subtly flicks your arm to remind you, whispering a brief ‘manners’ into your ear) and kiss the back of it. 

Blue keeps an oddly reassuring hold on your side, only letting go to push your chair in for you when you sit. The place where his hand rested is oddly cold without his touch. 

He sat as close to you as he physically could, draping his arm over the back of your chair as he continued to talk with the other men. 

After a few minutes his hand began to wander, moving slightly to stroke your upper arm absentmindedly and seemingly not noticing the little shiver that ran through you at his touch. 

You wish you were paying more attention to the conversation going around you, wished you could. 

His touch was more than distracting, maddening. The infuriating way he drags the back of his thumbnail over your skin in a lazy stroke. The stupid little smile that was plastered to his face whenever he nods to the conversation, his eyes glittering. He must know what he’s doing. He had to. 

You gave him little sideways glares, doing your best not to completely scowl at him. Frustration burned hot along your veins and you clenched your hands into fists under the table, pressing them into the edge of your seat. 

A waiter came to deliver fresh drinks, moving quietly and quickly as he places the glasses down in front of Blue and his ‘friends’.

“What do you want, Lion?” Blue’s velvet soft voice caught you irritatingly off guard. He smiled when you didn’t answer straight away, enjoying the little dance of confusion on your face. “To drink?” He leans towards you, still smiling. 

“I…” you swallowed, unsure of how to answer, if this was really some twisted game he was playing. 

His grin widens, seemingly appraising you for a moment before he  looked up to the waiter. “Lion’ll have something sweet, just like she is.” 

You were going to hit him. 

One of the men chuckled, he had dark eyes and a full beard and was sitting directly to your right. “Sweet is she?” He leaned slightly closer to you, placing his elbow on the table. “How sweet?” 

He gave you a sugary smile that perhaps could have been charming in another situation. 

Blue’s gentle touch on your arm tightened, pulling you towards him a fraction. 

The other man chuckled politely at his reaction, “What? You can’t expect me not to want a taste. You’re practically flaunting her to us.” He gestures as he speaks, his hand a hair's breadth away from touching your cheek. 

He’s lucky in that respect because you’re pretty sure he would have lost a finger or two if he’d actually made contact. 

“Am I?” Blue smiles, all teeth. 

The man chuckles lightly, but swallows, a hint of uncertainty in his voice the next time he speaks. Subtle, but there. “Well… yes.”

Blue waits for a moment, just letting the others' words hang in the air. He blinks twice, shaking his head a minute amount. Such a little gesture shouldn’t feel so… vicious. 

Your stomach twists, a feeling that had started to fade into your memory. You’d forgotten how dangerous he was. With all the things he’d let you do, the power he’d let you have over him, it had become so easy to fall into that false sense of security. 

You lean slightly into Blue, resting your head on his shoulder and threading your fingers through his, forcing him to loosen the grip on your shoulder. 

He looks down at your face, his eyelashes practically kissing his cheeks. There’s an oddly soft expression that passes over his eyes. There for a moment before it’s gone. 

He looks back to the other man, his tone lighter this time. “What’s wrong with a little showing off?” 

It’s almost as if the whole club breathes a collective sigh of relief.

“Nothing.” 

All four go back to their conversation as if nothing had transpired. 

The waiter brings you a bright pink cocktail that’s too sweet. But you slip at it anyway to save the poor man from Blue’s ire.

.

You attempt to slip away during Trixie’s big performance, while Blue is saying polite goodbyes to the gentleman at the table as he sends them off with other girls.

But he keeps your hand firmly in his the whole time. 

It’s only then that you notice someone at the far side of the club, their gaze on you like a sense of creeping dread. It’s Crystal.

At first you think she’s scowling at Blue, until realisation dawns that it is in fact you that she is looking at. 

The expression is so fierce that at first you can’t take notice of anything else. It’s only later that you realise she was wearing a dark purple dress.

“Trying to escape?” Blue’s voice makes you jump. He’s leaning close, his lips practically touching your ear and grinning. 

You frown at him. “Trying to.” You look back to the side of the club, Crystal is gone.

He laughs. “Silly little Lion.” 

“Careful.” 

He bites his lips together, still smiling, clearly overly amused by your reaction. “And why would I want to be careful, hmm?” He brushes his fingers along your jaw. “Maybe I want your claws to come out?” 

There’s a light flush to his cheeks that isn’t from the alcohol, his eyes dark and pupils dilated. 

He lets you look over him for a moment before he squeezes your hand and places it in the crook of his arm. “Come.” 

He glances at one of his guards, gesturing with his head and practically communicating telepathically before he guides you across the room and down the corridor to his office. 

It’s cooler once you’re out from the sea of people in the club, quieter, even though you can still hear the echoing bass of the music. 

You’re not sure why you let him lead you; why you walk in step with him without question. The idea of it alone should be enough to get under your skin. 

“Why am I wearing this dress Blue?” 

“You can take it off if you prefer.” He purrs.

You glare at him. “That’s not what I mean.” 

“What do you mean then?” He raises his eyebrows at you, practically giddy with glee. 

“The colour-”

“Do you not like your dress?” He fakes a look of disappointment, “I’m hurt, Lion.” 

You pinch his inner elbow and he laughs as he flinches a little in surprise. He squeezes your hand tighter in the crook of his arm. 

“You know what I mean, Blue.” 

“I do.” He opens his office door with a little flourish before he ushers you inside. 

“It’s not-” You gasp as he grabs your biceps, pushing your back up against the door and using the force of the push to shut it. 

He kisses you roughly, groaning as he presses himself close to you but breaks it before you even get a chance to react. “You drive me insane, Lion.” He mutters against your mouth. “Insane.” 

He strokes your cheek softly, resting his forehead against yours. “Can’t think about anything if you’re not near me.” He presses his lips to yours again, soft and sweet before trailing down along your jaw and to your neck. 

You shiver, jumping under his touch as he licks and kisses, lightly scrapes his teeth over your skin. 

When you react he groans softly, rubbing the heavily outline of his erection against your thigh. 

Your breathing hitches, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. Your body reacts without your permission, pressing closer and craving more of his touch. 

He leaves a gentle kiss on your collar bone before he sinks to his knees, looking up at you through his long lashes. “Want to take care of you, Lion…” He waits a moment, watching your face intently, seemingly measuring the seconds via the rise and fall of your chest. “Want to make you feel good.” 

Painfully slowly he runs his hands up your calves, pushing up your dress as he goes. 

You swallow as you watch him, how he gazes up at you looking so soft and pliant. Part of you wants to stop him, to force him back and regain control. But another deeper part recognises his submission, realises that the control is already all yours. 

He kisses the side of your left knee, pressing close as he drags your dress higher and higher, the smooth scrape of the fabric leaves goosebumps in its wake. 

He gasps softly as he finally lifts it over your hips, revealing you completely to him. Languidly he runs the very tip of his forefinger down the centre of your mons until he brushes your clit. 

He seems mesmerised for a second as your body jolts under his touch.

You bite into your bottom lip to stop yourself from making a sound, but still your rapid breathing echoes loudly in your head. 

Blue shuffles forward, closing his eyes as he licks a board, flat trail through your folds. He moans loudly, his eyebrows pinched together as he tastes you. Heat pools and twists in his belly, spiralling downwards to his throbbing cock as his movements get bolder. 

He presses his tongue deeper, just teasing your entrance as his licks grow firmer, sinking down to the very edge of your core before working his way back up to your clit. 

Your muscles tense, legs weakening as your body starts to fight your mind for complete control. 

“Blue…” You mutter, your voice strained and desperate.

He groans loudly, doubling down on his efforts as he keeps lapping at you desperately. 

The sound of his zipper being opened barely registers to your ears as he fumbled with it, pulling his cock free in a rush and hastily jerking himself in time with his licks. 

You moan quietly, unable to stop yourself as you grab hold of the back of his head and press him closer. Your hips buck, grinding against his warm, wet and eager mouth. 

Blue whines, his eyes rolling back as you take hold of him. His breathing hitches and he gasps once, a weak Lion escaping his lips in a needy, desperate plea before he swirls his tongue around your clit, sucking it into his mouth before doing back to those long, long licks. 

He buries himself between your thighs, single minded in his need for your pleasure as he rocks and moves with you, his fist a blur on his own length. 

You dig your fingers of one hand into the wood of the door, the other into his short hair, rolling your hips to chase the delicious friction of his sinful mouth. Heat coils tightly in your stomach, your thighs start to shake as he moans and licks, smearing your wetness all over his face. 

This time the moan that leaves you is loud and wrecked, pleasure pulling at every part of you and overriding any other possible thought. 

You tense, shaking as you come, your head thrown back and pressing against the door. 

Blue whines as your sweet release hits his tongue, as your muscles squeeze and quake and flutter on his tongue. 

He jerks his wrist twice, watching your face eagerly as you cry out, and comes a second later, spurting hot thick ropes all over the carpet and office door. Some splashes onto your calves.

He slows his hand in time with the gentle rock of your hips, only pulling his mouth away when you slump back and your grip on his hair lessens. 

He stares up at you with large, dark eyes. The entirety of his lower face shining with your slick. 

Your breathing calms, your heartbeat slowly returning to normal as you keep your eyes closed. 

Blue breathes deeply, glancing down briefly and noticing the drops of his release on your legs. He tuts and leans forward, darting his tongue out to lick your skin clean while simultaneously not giving a damn about the mess on the door. 

You let out a little yelp of surprise as his warm tongue touches your skin, but he places a soothing hand on your thigh, stroking soft circles as he works. 

You’re not sure what to expect when he stands, but it certainly isn’t the soft kiss he gives you while stroking your cheeks with his hands. 

“Come to bed with me, Lion.” He mutters, his voice soft and eyes closed. 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

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@novarosewood

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[calxvace]

in my mind modern luka is that college senior who looks untouchable, the very symbol of perfection but under that facade he is really pathetic in every aspect besides academics and of course his looks

pathetically insufferable, in the verge of collapsing with a small inconvinience

"s-senior luka? are you okay?" you questioned him feeding to your curiousity why his eyes were his only imperfection you see, tge moment your eyes met its slowly becoming clear to you

"what made you say that? im fine, dont worry, im senior luka" he said lightly nudging your side as he focused on his book again

"i can see through you, you are about to break" mentioning the very problem, it seemed that you had hit a nerve

luka hurriedly collected his things preparing to ran off, escape

"Nonsense, I dont break!" he stormed off elegantly, leaving that remarkable smile again

the smile he makes everytime, a very bright smile but with sullen eyes, subtly gloomy.

"wow senior luka is really good at everything, even at pretending"

but its no use, after all, you have been watching him since the day you saw him sleeping by the library window, you knew exactly where he went, where he isolates when he's so close to falling off the deep end.

and you were right, you can already hear the specific melody he plays on his violin. this time, it sounds more aggressive, like he's eager to tear the hair on his violin bow.

hesitating to barge in the music room, you stayed sitted by the door

"i know you're there, come in" he said in a calm manner, you heard him sigh heavily as he finishes the piece off. that scared you yes, but if it means more time with senior luka, you'd do anything.

as you enter the music room, silence accompanied the both of you for a fair minute, him tending to his violin and lovely bow allowed you to watch him intently, for some it would be labelled as awkward, but for you? its such a bliss

"about what you said earlier..." finally done placing his instrument to its case, he started the conversation sitting across you

"im sorry for prying, i didnt mean to- its just-" you hesitate to completely say it, because who in the right mind would pick a flaw on the ever perfect senior luka?

"oh relax, im not punishing you or anything... i just wanted to ask, how did you know..."

playing with the hem of your shirt, you looked at him straight in the eyes and pointed at it, "eyes are the windows to the soul"

you expected a long silence after that but luka coming up to you and holding both of your hands surprised you, "help me"

in what way could you help? what more could you contribute to the perfectly made senior luka?

you tilt your head in confusion yet he just smiled at you, differently

it was not his fake smile nor a smile you've seen, this time it was new, it was the very picture of finding hope.

but would you call it hope when the net thing that comes of his mouth is another one of his play pretend.

"Be my muse which my eyes only looks at, play with me y/n"

a nice attempt on fixing one's flaw, but isn't this just another 'running away' ?

"senior luka... I dont think that's the solution you need"

"well, this is all I know, to pretend"

you look at him flashing a genuine smile, "well then stop pretending"

cupping his face, gently caressing the tip of his eyes, "your eyes cant hold that much longer, let it all out"

Tears are starting to fall down, he slumped on your embrace.

What is going on in their family why is he so fragile the minute you let him be? but this is only the start,

"after we exit this room, can we be friends?"

"dont be silly, I've been your friend the moment we talked"

and that was the start of a rebellious yet awakening endeavor of luka and his friend towards navigating life with controlling and abusive parents.

[storiesfromafan]

Car Trouble

A/N: I've been sick with a head cold, plus needed a break from what I've been working on. So I came up with this 😊

Pairing: slight Benny x Reader

Warnings: fluff? Ooc Benny, spelling/grammer mistakes

Words: 2208

Of all the days for your bad luck to arise was a warm summers day. The bad luck, your piece of shit car breaking down miles from town, while on your way to a family gathering. Which you obviously won’t be making.

So here you were, dressed in your best sun dress, car bonnet up and your car steaming. The heat from your car and the summer sun causing beads of sweat to form on your brow. You don’t know why you lifted the bonnet, as if you knew what could be wrong with the shit box. But you leant over the engine with a confused and frustrated look. Hoping you’d have an epiphany and figure out the issue.

In the end you stood up, hands on your hips as you glared at the metal hunk of junk. Taking a few steps to the side of the car, you kicked the wheel in frustration and letting out a small scream. You had to let it out. Or else you’d probably cry.

Funny thing was just as you kicked the wheel and screamed, a couple of motorbikes rode past you. Their riders watching your actions, before turning around and coming back to you. Hearing the roars coming back to you, you turned and felt fear creeping up. And it only got worse when they pulled up in front of your car, engines cutting before getting off.

You’d heard many stories about motorbike riders, and how many of them were in unsavoury clubs. The two before you were obviously in a club from their patches. They shared a few words, which you couldn’t hear, before moving toward you. You were standing by the wheel you’d kicked, part of you thinking you could run, if need be, yet realistically you wouldn’t get far.

“Hey Miss" came a gentle voice from the man wearing a white bandana around his head, and sporting a dangling earring. “Got some car trouble?”

His voice, and even the sweet smile he sported, surprised you. Maybe even helped ease the fear a tad bit. But his friend, he wore this blank look upon his face, but his eyes were staring at you. He was gorgeous, probably the most gorgeously rugged man you’ve seen. But the intensity he gave off, it didn’t ease you one bit. Not liking his heavy gaze on you, you turned back to the first man. Who was still smiling at you, and you managed a sheepish smile.

“W-well, yeah...I do" you said softly. “Was just driving along when this piece of shit began to chug along and then there was steam coming from the bonnet...”

The smiling man’s smile dropped at your words, he nodded his head. “That don’t sound good" he mused. “You fine with me takin’ a look?”

You slowly shook your head, a little surprised and relieved.

“Great! I’m good with machines" bandana man said, as he moved to the engine of the car. “I’m Cal, by the way. And that’s Benny".

Looking from Cal, you looked to Benny, who nodded his head. Something told you he was the silent, intense kind of guy. “N-nice to meet ya both...I’m (Y/N)”.

After that you stood there watching Cal assess your car’s engine. He checked various things, which you had no clue what they were called or did. He was sweet to make small talk, mostly telling you about other cars and bikes he’s fixed over the years. It was calming to hear him talk about something you had no knowledge on. Cal could be spewing nonsense about the vehicle and you wouldn’t be any wiser. Soon you leant comfortably against the car, not as afraid as you had been.

Every now and then you would cast a look to Benny. He had stepped up next to Cal, his blue eyes looking over the engine also. The pair sharing a few words about something with the engine. The moment Cal suggested filling up some part with water, did Benny look to you before moving back to their bikes. He returned with some water, and Cal filled it up. Benny moved down to the ground, he was there for a while before getting back up.

“Looks like the radiators got a crack" came the gruff words from Benny, sending a shiver down your spine.

Cal nodded. “That’s what I thought” he sighed before turning to you. “Not much we can do out here for it doll. Best that can be done is nurse it back into town, and your place. Benny and I will follow ya, just to be safe".

“Oh no" you fussed waving your arms around. “You’ve done a lot for me already. I couldn’t take up any more of ya time, really...”

“We don’t mind, sweetheart" Benny said stepping back as Cal closed the bonnet. “Don’t want ya bein’ stranded again".

Unable to argue with them, as they wouldn’t take no for an answer, you moved to the driver’s seat. The car kicked over, sounding good but you knew it wouldn’t last. With the road clear, you turned around and headed back for town. Looking in the revision mirror you saw both men on their bikes following you. True to their word, both Cal and Benny followed you all the way back to your house. Thankfully the shit box held out, only starting to steam after you parked in your drive way.

Collecting your bag, you got out of the car just as both men parked out the front of your place and got off their bikes. Cal went back to check the engine, letting the small bouts of steam free. Benny stepped up beside you, as you watched Cal do his thing.

“See, it was best we followed you" Benny stated with that delicious voice of his. “Otherwise you might not have made it home".

You didn’t say a word, knowing he was right. Once the steam seemed to settle, Cal closed the bonnet with a slight grim look. He informed you, you’d need to get it seen to asap. He even gave you an estimated price on what it would cost for the part and labour. Which surprised you at the price, then a sombre look crossed your face. You wouldn’t be able to afford it, not right away.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Benny asked, a touch of concern in his voice.

You sighed. “I appreciate the help today. And thank you for the estimated cost...I just won’t be able to fix it for a while".

You hated to admit your short comings. But a lot of people were struggling. Both men understood that. Your job just covered rent, bills and food, with a bit of spending money if you were lucky. Silently you began to think of what you could do to save more money, a few luxuries would have to be cut from your grocery shop for a while.

“Thank you both so much, I really appreciate it" you said with an honest smile. “Please, let me get you both a drink. You must be thirsty".

Both men shared a look before agreeing. You headed inside, returning a few minutes later with a bottle of pop for each of them and yourself. You sat on the top step of the porch, while Cal sat on the second last step, and Benny leant on the railing. It’s funny how scared you’d been of both men, while now you felt like you’d known them for ages.

You giggled. “It’s funny, I was terrified when you both pulled up and got off your bikes".

Cal laughed, “understand doll. We can be frightenin'”

Benny nodded, but remained silent.

“I’ve heard many things about the Vandals...but after today I can say you both aren’t so bad".

Once more Cal laughed, but this time Benny laughed too. You blushed, feeling a little silly for saying that. But you were grateful for their help. You wondered if there was anything you could do to repay them. Maybe make them a cake or cookies? No, that would be stupid. All you could do was thank them again when they finally headed off. You watched them ride down the street, and turn down another, gone from your sight. Heading back inside you wondered if you’d see them again, maybe you’d hopefully get to see those baby blues of Benny’s again.

For the rest of the week you were back to taking the bus to and from work. Which was Hell. Having to be up earlier, and leave earlier so you’d get the right bus to be on time for work. Thankfully your boss was good, understanding of the situation. She even gave you a ride home, thanks to her boyfriend, after work. Getting home before it started to get dark was nice, a reminder of when your shit box worked and didn’t give you financial stress.

But it was Saturday morning, after nine, when you were alerted to noise coming from your front yard. It was light banging and curses that lead to you rushing out onto your porch. You panicked seeing someone under your car. Your first reaction was to grab whatever you could – a couple of cans from the box on your porch – and hurling at the body sticking out from under the car, while yelling at them to get lost.

You halted the moment you saw Benny’s gorgeous face. Stunned, you stood there mouth agape. “B-Benny? W-what are ya doin'?”

Running his hand threw his hair, Benny looked uncomfortable, like he didn’t think he’d get caught. “Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t think you’d hear me" he confessed sheepishly. “I was just swappin’ out ya radiator...”

That floored you. Looking from Benny to the car, and then back to the man before you. This man was taking it upon himself to fix your car. “W-why?” You asked in disbelief.

Benny shrugged, leaning against the front of the car and deciding to have a cigarette. “I saw you takin' the bus a few times this week. And figured you could use some help to fix it...”

Benny looked away from you as he took a drag of his cigarette, then slowly released the smoke. He didn’t look like a big bad biker. No, he looked like a shy teen. The intense man from back on the road seemed to have disappeared. Maybe this was the real Benny. Shy and caring person. You smiled, liking this Benny a lot.

You decided to let him do the job he set out to do. But you said you would bring him something to drink, even make him lunch. Really you were just so grateful that you’d happily fuss over the man. You watched him work, asking some questions, which Benny did his best to answer. It was nice. His presences and his words.

Once done, you both sat on your porch steps. Benny was happily eating the sandwich you’d made him, along with drinking a beer you’d had in the back of your fridge for those long days in the hair salon. You giggled at how he ate like a starved man, like he didn’t come by food often.

“I take it, it’s good?” You asked with amusement.

Benny nodded casting his gaze to the ground in embarrassment. “Yeah, it is".

You smiled warmly. “I’m glad. Any time you want a home cooked meal, feel free to drop in. It’s the best I can do, for you fixin' my car".

Benny returned your smile. Happy to have your invitation. Yet, he kind of had something else in mind. But Benny has never been good with voicing what he wants to say, let alone tell a woman he was interested in her. And he very much was interested in you. The moment he’d walked up to you on the side of the road, seeing you in that sun dress and your beautiful face, Benny was a goner. He wanted to take you out, even if it was for a few drinks at Grand and Division. Or, if you’d let him, take you for a ride on his bike.

Clearing his throat, Benny put down the plate beside him before turning to you. His baby blues set on you, his face serious yet not scary. “I was thinkin' maybe you could make it up to me by goin' for a drink, or with me for a ride?”

Poor Benny's heart was beating so fast he worried it might leap out his chest. And the silence from you wasn’t helping. Maybe he’d stepped over the line, or you weren’t interested in him like he was you. Maybe he was an idiot. Maybe he-

“Sure, I’d like that too. Maybe we could do both?” You smiled sweetly at the man before you.

Yes, Benny was a Vandal. Yes, he would be considered rough around the edges. But this scary at first man has shown you that he was actually a sweet guy. And when he looked at you, and that voice of his too, you got butterflies in your stomach. You’d happily go out with him. Even if he hadn’t fixed your car.

You leant in and place a soft kiss to Benny's cheek. “Pick me up around eight tonight?”

Benny beamed. “Sure, sweetheart”.

[relativelydimensional]

bestie what are some of your merthur fic recs

Omg who me? stooppp <3

Okay so I used to read a LOT of merthur fics back around 2011-2013 and have only recently hopped back on the bandwagon so this will be a mix of some oldies i've revisited and some newer fics that have made me insane :))))

0. this one goes without saying but The Student Prince is seriously one of the best fics in any fandom i've ever read to this day. I relisten to the podfic every single year and it SLAPS every time. If you haven't listened/read recently this is obviously my #1 rec hahahha

Okay onto some actual recs

1. Tired by spqr

King Arthur gets enchanted and keeps having dreams about his court sorcerer merlin :))))) He obviously doesn't say this to Merlin, but Merlin notices he's not been sleeping and Arthur comes clean about having 'nightmares.' When Merlin tries to figure out a counterspell, he accidentally casts it on himself and ohh nooo they're both having sexy dreams about each other but also have to act normal in real life ITS SO YUM. This fic was surprisingly soft, like yes they are having some full on dreams but also the bits that made me extra insane were just the little soft moments between non-dream merthur 🥺

This was a school holidays read and i remember reading this in the staff room of the elementary school i was working at trying so hard not to SCREAM. At one point i had to go on a spirited walk around the building just to get my energy out because it was JUICY.

If you like: canon era fics, court sorcerer merlin, the intimacy of domesticity, arthur with a beard and merthur being so in love but also fucking clueless about it this the fic for you <3

2. But It's a Good Refrain by lady_ragnell

Merlin runs a relationship advice/matchmaking service radio show and Arthur's ex calls in and rips into him on air. Arthur calls in to defend himself and he and Merlin butt heads. An oldie but such a goodie. I love this one because the characterisation feels very natural. Plus i loooove arthur POV fics. Merthur are so sweet in this one and i love love love the dynamic of their respective friendship groups merging. It also features the fandom favourite m/f crack ship that is elena and gwaine which im always here for.

If you like: silly modern AU friend group nonsense, Arthur POV fics, snarky Morgana, and a fic writer who understands the sheer power merlin emrys' 🥺 face would have over not only Arthur but literally ANYONE who looks at him, this is the fic for you.

3. Second Chances by DragonDucks

This is a canondivergence/fix-it fic set immediately after Arthur dies in 5x13. In this version Arthur tells Merlin he loves him with his dying breath and Merlin's magic sort of implodes sending him back in time to 1x1. So it's like sad s5 Merlin getting a second chance to save Arthur in the body of tiny baby s1 merlin.

I'm gonna be honest i'm still reading this one but it has me kicking and screaming!!!! Most of the dialogue is repurposed from the show which makes it extra juicy to me and its just delicious i love it so much. The POV switches between S5 mourning merlin and S1 gay panic arthur and its soooooo good i'm loving it so far. Some of the side characterisation is a little weird but Merthur are PERFECT. It NAILS that yummy introverted Arthur and fond Merlin characterisation.

If you like: canon era fix it fics, time travel, Arthur pendragon falling in love with merlin bit by bit and actually having space and time to grow as a person, and merlin emrys being like no everyone shut up about my destiny i just wanna have a good time with my boyfriend, this is the fic for you.

4. All is Semblative by Whitefox

I just fucking love crossdressing fics okay 😇. This is cinderella meets Merthur. Uther is throwing a ball to find Arthur a bride and servants aren't allowed. Out of spite (and, lets be real, also jealousy) Merlin tries to disguise himself to sneak in and ends up accidentally turning himself into a princess. Arthur hits it off with a weird but beautiful mystery princess who turns out to be his manservant he's been in love with this whole time. Simples.

If you like: Prince Arthur knowing about merlin's magic and being cool with it, fairytale AUs, accidental genderbending (but still canonically mlm merthur), and arthur pendragon singlehandedly embodying demisexual panic this is the fic for you.

5/6. As Long As We Have We AND No Matter How Far Away You Roam by lady_ragnell

Lady Ragnell again because I looove the way they do modern day Arthur. and i've been going through their stuff. These are both super cute christmas fics (I know its a little early but I couldn't help myself). In the first one, Uther has just died (rip uther you will not be missed) and Arthur accidentally collects lonely friends to spend christmas with him in the empty house. At the same time he befriends Merlin, the owner of his local bookstore, and merlin brings his own group of strays to Arthur's christmas...and obviously everyone gets along super well and merthur fall in love. The second one is a fake dating. T get his parents off his back, Arthur lies to Uther and Igraine that he and merlin have been together for years and Merlin (plus his mum and his sister Freya) has to play along one christmas..and obviously everyone gets along....and obviously everyone gets along super well and merthur fall in love.

If you like: found family, cute christmas fics and fluffy merthur these fics are the ones for you!

Also pls if anyone has any canon era secret dating merthur fics i beg of you please send them my way 🥺

[theamberfist]

Heartstrings | Alastor x Cupid! Reader

Queerplatonic! Alastor x Cupid! Reader

Description: When an angel shows up to the hotel that seems particularly close with Alastor, everyone is suspicious. Lucifer takes it upon himself to investigate the strange situation.

(Notes: CW Alastor) (gender neutral reader) (Reader is implied to be AroAce spec) (Alastor is implied to be AroAce spec) (Reader is an angel) (Reader is Cupid) (Part 1/3)

❀ My contribution to the Alastor QPR tag!! I've had the idea for an Aro/Ace/AroAce Cupid for a while now ❀

Words: 2,746

"Thank you, Alastor, for having your...friend leave." Charlie said, clearing her throat as she approached the Radio Demon, who stood not far from the hotel doors. Now that she and Lucifer had finished singing and making amends, everyone had dispersed to go back to what they'd been doing before. She knew it would still take time for her relationship with her father to change completely, but she was more hopeful now than ever that that could happen one day.

Now that Lucifer had agreed to help get her a meeting with heaven, he was back to looking around the hotel and talking with the guests with his new view of the place. He was trying to believe in her dreams, and she appreciated the effort as he took a newly-baked cookie from Sir Pentious' tray. 

"Hmm?" The Radio Demon finally replied, turning from where he'd been looking at the doors to face her now, "Oh, it was no trouble. Mimzy has a tendency to overstay her welcome, you'll find."

Charlie nodded. "Even so, we really appreciate it. And don't worry about the wall; I'll have it taken care of." Alastor quickly waved her off.

"Nonsense!" He exclaimed, snapping his fingers and instantly fixing the broken piece of building, "If I'm to be associated with this little project of yours, I'd like to keep it professional-looking!" Charlie paused, then nodded at that.

"Right." She said awkwardly, recalling how he'd never seemed to care about the look of the wall when it had been destroyed before. She was about to ask if there was a particular reason he wanted the place to look nice now when her father suddenly called out to her from the other side of the room. 

Turning, she debated whether or not to join him for a moment. It felt like there was something happening that Alastor hadn't informed her of; something she should know, but she also wanted her dad to like the hotel as much as she did. Luckily, the Radio Demon made the choice for her.

"Go on and finish your tour of the hotel without me." He said, gesturing for her to go to Lucifer. It was a big switch from when he'd insisted they do so together earlier, but she decided not to question that. 

"Alright," she said with a weak smile, turning to head over to where her dad and Vaggie were chatting by the couch now. She stopped for a second, though, glancing back at the deer-like demon, "You know, Alastor, you could join us." She suggested with a reassuring smile, "I'm sure my dad won't mind, and if he does...he'll get over it!" Her tone told him she was trying to be inviting but he simply shook his head.

"That's quite alright, dear." He replied, turning his gaze back to the door, "I'm expecting an important visitor later." That gave the princess of hell pause, along with everyone else that had just tuned into their conversation.

"Oh?" Charlie asked carefully, her stomach churning, "Another friend of yours?" Alastor's grin only widened.

"You could call them that," he replied slyly, not offering any more information. After meeting Mimzy, Charlie was nervous to see who else the Radio Demon might be close with, but with Lucifer still visiting the hotel, as well as the display Alastor had shown earlier to protect it, she assured herself it would be fine, no matter whom he'd invited. 

So, she joined her father and her girlfriend by the couch to chat about her plans for the future of the hotel; including a few lesson plans she had in mind for the residents. 

Both her father and the rest of the hotel guests were very interested to hear what Alastor had said about the guest he was expecting, but even she had little information to offer them.

It wasn't until a while later, when there was a knock at the hotel doors, that everyone perked up. Alastor, having been staying nearby the entire time, was the first to answer as everyone else in the lobby waited with baited breath to see who it was. His smile only widened when he opened the door; still hiding the visitor from view with his own form.

"Right on time, darling!" He exclaimed cheerfully, and it was now that Charlie could make out what looked like a faint pink glow form behind his body. Alastor stepped forward, seemingly pulling the other person into a hug, though the sight of their arms around his back gave her little clue as to who they were. She hadn't heard their response to his greeting, either. It was odd enough for Alastor to be so eager for someone to visit, though, much less hug them so comfortably. 

Finally, the Radio Demon stepped out of the way of the door, allowing his personal guest to step inside the hotel, which they did. That was when everyone in the room got their second shock of the day.

You were an angel; literally. With your golden halo, beautiful wings, and the pink glow around your body, it wasn't hard for them to put the pieces together. What didn't make sense was why the hell someone like you would be Alastor's guest.

Charlie gasped at the sight of you; sheer awe in her eyes, but she wasn't the only one. As you entered the hotel and Alastor closed the door behind you, Lucifer shot up from where he'd been sitting next to his daughter on the couch with wide eyes. He practically shouted your name, making you turn from the Radio Demon and in his direction now. 

"Haven't heard that in a while," you admitted with a delicate smile, "Most people just call me Cupid these days." That made the king of hell's eyes widen even further. 

"You got the job?!" He asked in awe. You shrugged.

"I guess so?" From the look on his face, you probably should have been more enthusiastic about the accomplishment, but since it was what had been taking up nearly all your time for so many years now, all you could feel was indifference. "It's good to see you again, Luci." The king's eyes sparkled for a second before he seemed to regain his composure and cleared his throat. 

"Good to see you again, too." He replied as calmly as possible as the hotel residents glanced between him an you in shock. 

You were about to say something else when Alastor finally spoke up, catching your attention instead. "Dear, we should be going now," he told you, looping your arm with his, "You're only in hell for so long, after all!" Your smile returned now and you nodded.

"Right." You looked back at Lucifer and the hotel residents as Alastor began leading you back to the door. "Nice catching up!" You called. Charlie opened her mouth to speak but Alastor cut her off, barely turning his head enough to look back at her.

"No need to wait up!" He called, and with that, the two of you were gone; closing the doors gently behind you. 

The room was silent.

Finally, Charlie turned to her father with a dumbfounded expression. "That was Cupid?!" She exclaimed, nearly hyperventilating now, "What are they doing down her? With Alastor? I mean, I'm sure he's capable of making all kinds of friends, but an angel? And why would he not tell me when he knows what we're trying to do here-" Before she could spiral, Vaggie placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. 

"Who the hell was that?" Angel finally asked. Lucifer, who had yet to speak, narrowed his eyes at the door.

"An old friend of mine," he admitted simply.

"What were they doing with Alastor?" Vaggie asked carefully, "And in hell? I thought Cupid only ever worked in the human world." 

"They do," Lucifer replied bitterly, "But I intend to find that out for myself." 

"Dad..." Charlie started now that she'd calmed down. The king of hell ignored her, though, as he headed for the door to follow you and Alastor.

There was no way you'd spend time with the Radio Demon willingly like that; surely, he was playing some kind of game. Whether it was an attempt to make you fall from heaven like Lucifer himself had once done or just a way to use you and your angelic powers, the king of hell would not stand for it. 

You two had been friends before he ended up down here, and he would be damned (a second time) if he let you suffer the same fate he did.

..........

Lucifer darted between buildings and across streets as he followed after you and Alastor, who happily chatted and walked arm in arm. Ever time the former angel's gaze landed on you two, his eyes narrowed again and his fists clenched. 

The fact that you seemed so relaxed despite being in hell only made him more suspicious. Of course, no one would approach you, angel or not, so long as you were on the arm of the Radio Demon. That just meant Alastor really had managed to gain your trust if you'd been willing to come all the way down to hell just to visit him, and the trust of an angel wasn't something the Radio Demon should have had.

Lucifer mentally grumbled to himself as he followed the two of you all the way to Cannibal Town. Not only were you an angel, but you were also apparently Cupid now; meaning you had even less reason to spend time with the deer-like demon. Your entire job was to help humans fall in love, and Alastor had made it very clear on multiple occasions that he was repulsed by romance. 

Finally, the two of you made it to what looked like a small clothing store in Cannibal Town. Alastor held the door for you and you entered with a smile as Lucifer glared at the place. It looked exactly like the kind of store he would have expected the Radio Demon to shop at; all the fashion looking like it came from the 1920s and 30s. The clothes you wore, though, didn't seem to have a particular timeframe attached to them. They could work for any year, which he guessed probably came in handy, considering your job brought you to the human world often. 

After waiting a few minutes, Lucifer came inside and quickly darted into a nearby rack of clothes before either of you could spot him. From there, he watched you walk around the store; picking out a few outfits you must have thought the Radio Demon would like. 

Lucifer held back a growl at the sight; Alastor had even managed to manipulate you into doing his shopping for him. 

In the end, you decided on a red suit similar to the one he had on already, though slightly more modern. When the deer-like demon approved it, you smiled and headed straight for the shop counter. 

You bought the clothes and then left the shop together, with Lucifer quickly following behind. As he pushed through the doors, though, he stopped upon seeing you both standing there expectantly. You crossed your arms as your gaze landed on the king of hell; your angel wings flopping slightly to show your irritation. Alastor still smiled, though his eyes were narrowed similarly to your own. 

Lucifer let out and awkward chuckle before straitening his posture and adjusting his suit jacket. 

"So you have been following us." You sighed, shaking your head as if his concern over the situation was completely unwarranted. "Did you need something, Luci?" 

"I..." Lucifer trailed off before finally clearing his throat, "I'm just keeping an eye on my heavenly guest; is that such a crime?" Neither you, nor Alastor seemed convinced. The Radio Demon stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder for emphasis.

"I assure you, your highness, we're quite fine on our own," he practically spat, "Had I had any ill intent towards our dear Cupid, I would have shown it already." That didn't exactly comfort the king but you spoke up now.

"Luci, I'm fine." You assured him with a gentle smile, "I've known Al for years, now." This made the former angel's eyes widen; how could that even be possible?

"Seven years, to be exact." Alastor added smugly, making the king of hell grit his teeth. 

"You're friends with a demon?" Lucifer asked in surprise. No one in heaven would have even considered being around a sinner like this, and yet you seemed so comfortable. 

"I'm friends with you," you nodded before turning to glance at the Radio Demon, "Al and I are partners." He nodded, making Lucifer's mouth drop open even further. 

He wouldn't believe it; he couldn't believe it. You, Cupid, were supposedly dating the Radio Demon himself? There was simply no way; Alastor had to have put some kind of evil spell on you.

"It's fine, Luci, really." You went on, but he wasn't having it.

"You're telling me you two are dating?!" He finally managed, ignoring how Alastor's glare deepened, "For how long? Have you been coming down here to see him all this time and I didn't know?!" 

"How like you it is to make such an assumption, your highness." Alastor commented, leaning on his cane disapprovingly.

Seeing that Lucifer was about to spiral, you stepped forward and gently grabbed him by the shoulders. 

"It's okay." You said softly, "We're not dating; we're just partners. And this is actually the first time I've been able to come down to visit." That seemed to calm the king of hell, but only slightly. At the very least, now he knew the Radio Demon hadn't trapped you in a relationship, though he still didn't understand what you meant by partners.

"I'm fine." You repeated, sensing the animosity between the two of them and knowing how big of a shock this probably was. It would have surprised everyone in heaven if they'd found out you were this close with another angel; much less a demon. You weren't exactly known for your relationships with others.

Finally, Lucifer calmed down and you glanced down at your wristwatch. "It's almost time for my next shift," you sighed before turning back to Alastor, "Want to come with me?" His smile instantly brightened and he nodded.

"But of course, darling!" With that, he snapped his fingers and the clothes you'd bought earlier appeared on him; making him look a bit more modern than before. You'd insisted on the choice, considering it would make the humans more suspicious if someone that looked like they were from the 30s appeared randomly. 

Behind you, Lucifer seemed shocked all over again. Sensing his concern, you turned back to him with a smile on your face. 

"Don't worry," you said, "I'll have him back soon enough; I know all the sinners are kind of your responsibility." Clearly, your understanding of his feelings was a little off, though he appreciated you trying to comfort him. 

Alastor extended his arm to you again and you took it with a smile before conjuring a pink portal in front of the two of you that Lucifer could only assume would take you to the human world. He wasn't about to let you disappear so suddenly, though.

"Uh, is that allowed?" He asked, popping up beside you in concern and gesturing at the portal, and then to the Radio Demon. There were, of course, types of hellborn demons and heaven born angels that were allowed to venture to the mortal plane like you were, but he'd never heard of that courtesy applying to sinners. 

You turned your gaze back to the king of hell with a shrug. "We've done it before," you admitted. This only made his concern grow. How and when had you done this before?

"Wh-what? How?!"

"Way too much power and not nearly enough supervision." You admitted with a shrug before finally turning back to the portal. "Anyway, it was good to see you again, Luci! We'll have to do tea and catch up some time!" And with that, you and the Radio Demon disappeared into the mortal plane, leaving a very confused king of hell behind. 

The more he thought about it, though, and knowing what he knew about you, he realized this surprising partnership made a lot of sense. You'd always been a wile card when it came to the angels; even when he'd still lived in heaven. He guessed you thrived on one another's chaos.

Still, the Radio Demon and Cupid themselves; who would have guessed?

[sebflix]

Arabesque; sebastian sallow | pt2 (m)

pairing: sebastian sallow x ballet!reader(f)

genre: strangers (to friends) to lovers

warnings: all characters are 18+! smut!: masturbation(m)!, oral sex (f receiving)!, fingering!, kissing!, back scratching!, begging!, slight dirty talk! hurt & comfort, deep convos about their traumas, needy seb

word count: 4.8k

chapter synopsis: As you and Sebastian get closer, whispers and subtle glances begin to follow you both around about your new friendship. After having a heartfelt conversation about your pasts, you both realised that perhaps you were more alike than either of you had initially thought. The tension between you both is undeniable now and Sebastian, deeply aware of his growing affection for you, is determined to show you just how much he cares about you.

other notes: finally some action for you all! very one-sided smut in this chapter, but chapter 3 will have more juicy content ;)

links: ao3, masterlist

[read on ao3]

01 | 02 | 03

After that night in the Room of Requirement, you and Sebastian had grown very close. From him showing you around Hogsmeade to you sneaking into the Restricted Section to help him find a cure for Anne’s sickness, you spent a lot of time together. He even covered for you when Peeves caught you both, deepening your trust in him. Other students had noticed too, whispering and gossiping whenever you were seen together. Even Natsai had questioned you about what was going on.

"I've heard some interesting things," she began, leaning casually against the wall. "People are talking about you and Sebastian."

You sighed, trying to sound nonchalant. "Oh? What are they saying this time?"

"That you two are always together. Some even say you're... more than friends."

You laughed it off, shaking your head. "That's ridiculous. He's just been showing me around and helping me get settled here, that's all."

Natsai looked unconvinced. "So, all those times I've seen you two talking and laughing together, that's just friendly behaviour?"

You felt your cheeks flush. "Yes. It's not what people think."

She smirked, crossing her arms. "And what about the way he looks at you? I've seen it, you know."

Flashbacks wash over you, recalling the countless moments you'd shared with Sebastian. You remembered the intense way his eyes locked with yours the night you caught him sneaking in. The way your fingers would brush against his when passing ingredients in Potions class, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. And then there was his cologne, a scent that lingered in the air whenever you stood a little too close to him. These moments played over in your mind, making your heart race and your cheeks flush.

You hesitated, trying to hide your flustered expression. "He looks at me like a friend. Nothing more."

Natsai's expression softened. "You know, it's okay if you like him. He's a good guy, despite what I said the other day."

You glanced away, feeling a mix of relief and frustration. "It's not like that, Natsai. We're just friends."

You and Sebastian were back in the Room of Requirement. He was seated on the couch, engrossed in a book he ‘borrowed’ from the Restricted Section, while you sat on the floor, lacing up your ballet shoes. Over the past few weeks, your trust in him had significantly deepened. Aware that Sebastian didn't want to alarm Ominis with all these secretive books, you agreed to let him use the room.

Sebastian suddenly let out a frustrated sigh, slamming the book shut. "This is useless," he muttered, rubbing his temples.

You look up, concern etching your features. "What's wrong?"

"These books... they’re supposed to help me find a way to help Anne get better, but so far, it’s just been dead ends and cryptic nonsense," he said, his voice tinged with desperation.

You got up and sat beside him on the couch, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Sebastian," you started gently, "how is Anne doing?"

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, his gaze fixed on the book in his hands, tracing the ancient runes etched into the leather cover.

"She's... not well,"

His brows furrowed in deep thought, lips pressed into a tight line as he wrestled with the weight of his words. You could see the turmoil etched on his face, the conflict between wanting to confide in you and the fear of burdening you with his family's troubles.

"I... I haven't told anyone else about this," he admitted at last, his voice barely above a whisper. "Only Ominis knows. It's just... it's complicated."

You nodded silently, sensing his hesitation.

Sebastian took a deep breath, steeling himself before continuing. "Anne... she's my twin sister. We've always been close, you know? But since she got... cursed, everything's changed. She's not the same anymore. It's like... like a darkness has taken hold of her."

He then tells you everything. How Rookwood, Ranrok and Ranrok’s loyalists raided Feldcroft and a goblin cursed Anne after she rushed to help the villagers. How after the raid, she was in constant agony and was sent to St Mungo’s, but nothing helped.

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of his emotions palpable. You could feel his pain as if it were your own, the anguish of watching a loved one suffer without knowing how to help.

"I've been researching everything I can," Sebastian went on, his eyes filling with frustrated tears. "Trying to find a way to break the curse. These books," he gestured towards the stack on the table beside him, "they're my only lead, and...,"

He pauses before he continues.

"I’ve been practising the Dark Arts." He whispers.

Your hand froze on his shoulder, a mixture of shock and concern spreading through you. "The Dark Arts?" you echoed softly, trying to process the weight of his words.

"It’s the only option now. I’m desperate."

You withdrew your hand slowly, processing the weight of Sebastian's confession. The air thickened with uncertainty and the weight of his burden.

Despite the unease creeping into your thoughts, you couldn't ignore the anguish etched on his face, the desperation in his eyes that spoke volumes about the depth of his struggle.

"I had no idea," you finally whisper, your voice tinged with concern. "Sebastian, this is... it's dangerous. Are you sure about this?"

"I don't have a choice," He looks at you with a mixture of resolve and vulnerability.

"I can't just stand by and watch Anne suffer."

Your heart aches for him, torn between the fear of what he was dabbling in and the empathy you feel for his plight. "Is there anything I can do to help?" you ask softly, your voice filled with genuine concern.

Sebastian hesitates, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "Maybe, I... I don't know," he confesses, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of his burden. "But just knowing you're here, that I can talk to you... it means more than you know."

You nod slowly, your mind racing with questions and worries. "I'm here for you, Sebastian," you reassure him quietly, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your thoughts. "Whatever you need, whatever happens... we'll figure it out together."

He meets your gaze gratefully, a flicker of relief crossing his features, his eyes still glazed with tears. "Thank you," he whispered sincerely. "I... I appreciate that more than words can say."

Sebastian's gaze softens as he continues, "You should keep practising. I'm sorry for interrupting you."

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, the tension in the room easing slightly. You finish tying the ribbons and stand up, ready to resume your routine. "It's okay," you reassure him with a smile, "I can always use a break from pirouettes."

Sebastian returned your smile, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Fair enough," he replies, a touch of warmth in his voice. "Go on, I'll be right here."

You moved to the centre of the room. “Ludere musica.” You use the music charm on your violin and piano in the corner. As you begin to move, the strains of Tchaikovsky’s Swan Lake fill the air.

Sebastian watches quietly from the couch, his earlier concerns momentarily forgotten as he witnesses the grace and beauty that radiates from you.

As he observes you, a whirl of thoughts races through his mind. The weight of his sister's condition still heavy on his heart, he couldn't help but find solace in the serenity of this moment with you. Your support, your understanding — it means more to him than he could express. And yet, beneath the surface of their growing connection lay a lingering tension from their conversation the first time he was in this room.

The charged tension that crackled between them that day left him exhilarated. The way you had looked at him with your mesmerising eyes, the softness in your voice as you bid him goodnight.

Oh, how he wished he hadn't left after that. How he wished he had gathered the courage to reach out, to gently cup your cheek in his hand and taste the softness of your lips against his own. The desire to stay, to linger in your presence, had been almost unbearable. But he had to be a gentleman, to respect your boundaries.

So, instead, he ran to the nearest bathroom, unbuckled his belt, and released his unholy thoughts about you using his hand.

He leaned against the cold, tiled wall, his breath shallow and uneven. The image of you, your eyes, your lips... it was seared into his mind, the desire for you almost driving him mad. He took his already half hard cock in his hand and started stroking quickly. He closed his eyes, and in his mind, the bathroom stall vanished, replaced by the sight of you underneath him.

He imagined the sight of you on your knees, your rosy, pink lips wide open, taking him into your mouth so well. Your hair was a mess as he gripped it, fucking your throat deeply. The sound of your moans muffled as you choke around him. And your eyes – those eyes will be the death of him. Your tear-filled eyes, fixed on him as he stares down at you, mouth full of his cock.

A soft, sudden gust of air rushed from his lips as he began to speed up, growing closer to his high. He pressed his left hand against the bathroom wall, a feeble attempt to keep himself steady and upright.

He shouldn’t have said goodnight.

He should have grabbed you by the waist and pushed you down on the sofa. He should have kissed down your body, from your neck, between the curve of your breasts, to the inside of your soft thigh until you begged him for more. He should have slipped his fingers inside your tights and pressed against your clit, rubbing in slow circles until your legs twitched in pleasure. He should have tasted you with his tongue, devoured you until he tasted your sweet release.

"Fuck..." He stroked himself one last time as he came at the thought of you, releasing all over his fingers. The euphoric wave rode out for a moment. He let out a breath and looked at the mess he made. He suddenly felt dirty, knowing that he was going to see you around Hogwarts after this.

So he plays it cool, acting as a guide to show you around the school and helping you in class, all the while trying to suppress the aroused energy that surges within him. He tries very hard to focus on his classes, but his eyes always shift back to you, studying the curves of your body and how your hair falls playfully around your face.

There are times when he has to suddenly excuse himself or leave class swiftly when he finds himself with a tightness under his trousers, running to the nearest safe place so he can rub one out while you haunt his thoughts.

And here you were now, in front of him as you close your eyes and effortlessly glide across the floor, oblivious of what his mind thinks of you. He admires the lines of your silhouette, the way your curvy frame fits into your ballet ensemble. The gentle curve of your neck, the bend of your back as you arch gracefully and the strong muscle of your thighs peaking underneath the tutu. He wonders what they would look like on his shoulders when he fucks you deep.

"ARGHH!"

Sebastian snaps out of his daydreaming, his gaze immediately drawn to you. You had lost your balance, stumbling slightly before falling to the floor with a soft thud. Concern washes over him as he hurriedly rises from the couch and crosses the room to your side.

"Merlin! Are you okay?" he asks, kneeling beside you and gently offering a hand to help you up.

You wince slightly, rubbing your ankle where you had landed. "I'm fine," you reply with a sheepish smile, though the slight tremor in your voice betray your discomfort.

You take his hand and stand up again, ignoring the spark you just felt from the contact. You try to balance on your foot, but it gives way, and you nearly end up falling again. Luckily, he grabs your arms before you meet the floor. He suddenly lifts you into his arms, carrying you bridal style to the couch. You gasp quietly at the suddenness, internally praying that he didn’t hear you. His touch sends a jolt of electricity through you, igniting a spark that you both tried to ignore at that moment.

He places you down on the couch carefully, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary before he moves to fetch the Wiggenweld potion from the nearest table.

"You need to drink this," he insists, his voice tinged with concern as he holds out the vial.

You shake your head stubbornly, wincing as pain shoots through your ankle. "No, Sebastian, I'll be fine," you protest, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

Sebastian's brow furrows in frustration mixed with concern as he held out the vial once more. "You have to drink this," he said firmly.

You met his gaze defiantly, though the pain still pulsed through your ankle. "I said no, Sebastian," you reply, your tone matching his firmness. Despite the ache, you were determined to tough it out.

"Why are you being so stubborn?" he grumbles under his breath.

Sebastian kneels beside you, gently inspecting your ankle. "It might be sprained," he assesses, his voice laced with worry. "Let me help."

His touch is gentle yet firm as he begins to assess the damage. He carefully undoes the silk ribbons of your flats. The moment feels so intimate, watching his slender fingers slip you out of your shoes. You feel your cheeks heat up at the gesture.

Despite the pain, you find yourself captivated by the warmth of his hands and the tenderness in his gaze.

"Pass me that liquid over there." You point towards another table.

It's a painkiller, specifically a Muggle-made one, so it did not have the extreme qualities that Wiggenweld holds.

He passes you the bottle and you take a sip, hoping the effect of the medicine will kick in within a few minutes.

Sebastian continues to hold your ankle gently, the silence between you stretching on for a moment. Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, you break the silence, your voice soft yet determined.

"The pain I’m feeling… it's part of who I am," You start.

He looks at you confused, waiting for you to continue.

With a deep breath, you begin to open up to Sebastian about your past.

"My mum was a professional ballerina," you explain, your voice filled with a sense of nostalgia. "She was the one who taught me ballet."

You continue, your gaze on your lap as you fiddle your fingers. "She passed away when I was young, so every time I perform, every time I push through the pain to perfect a pirouette or an en pointe, I feel closer to her,"

Sebastian listens intently, his gaze never wavering from yours.

"I was muggle-born. And when I found out I could do magic," you say, your voice tinged with sadness, "my friends drifted apart from me. I felt alone, like I had nobody who understood me. That's why I cling to ballet so fiercely; it's my connection to my mum and my life before magic. It's the one thing that makes me feel like I really belong somewhere. That’s why I don’t want to take the potion." You look up at him.

"The pain and the passion...they're intertwined. Taking the Wiggenweld potion would numb the pain, but I'm afraid it would numb my connection to her."

Sebastian's expression softens as he takes in your explanation, his gaze fixed on yours with an intensity that can only come from someone truly listening.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, his voice filled with sincere regret. "I had no idea that your connection to ballet ran this deep. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard to take it. I just wanted to help you."

"I know," you say quietly, your voice carrying a hint of forgiveness.

"Your mum would be incredibly proud of you," he says quietly. "She would be honoured that you've continued her legacy in such a beautiful and powerful way."

You exhale, feeling a whirl of emotions at his words. He tilts his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Why do you keep it secret? Why do you feel the need to hide something that means so much to you?" he says quietly.

"Ballet is a rush, an escape from the rest of the world, and it's a part of my vulnerability… and I don’t want anyone to see that."

He ponders for a moment, his gaze fixed on yours as he absorbs your words. Sebastian's mind drifts back to his own experiences, and he realises that there are parallels between your situation and some of his own issues. When his parents died, he felt the same way. Of course, he had Anne, but after she was cursed, it felt like he had no one.

"I'm glad you're here now. At Hogwarts." He chuckles quietly.

You let out a small, shaky laugh.

"Me too," you murmur. You're not sure if you're talking about being at Hogwarts or being here with Sebastian, but the words feel true nonetheless.

Sebastian's hand is still on your ankle while the other hand plays with the loose ribbon idly. His grip tightens ever so slightly as your body tenses up at the touch. His gaze locks onto yours, and you can practically feel the heat in his eyes as he looks at you. His expression is a mixture of desire and vulnerability, and it's making your heart race. He holds your gaze while his thumb moves in small, slow circles across the skin of your ankle. The air between you crackles with energy.

His finger runs across the arch of your foot, the silence in the room broken by the sound of your sharp inhale.

"Sebastian..."

Gods. He loved hearing his name coming from your lips.

"Yes?" he replies, his voice low, watching you with intent.

"Please..." you whisper, your voice laced with desperation.

Sebastian's gaze locks onto yours with a newfound intensity, his expression filled with a mixture of raw desire and vulnerability as he hears the pleading tone in your voice. He slowly runs his fingers up your leg, moving higher and higher, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His body hovers over yours, making sure not to put pressure on your ankle. To you, the pain is hardly noticeable now. His hot gaze and the touch of his fingers send shivers down your spine. You can feel the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

He leans in closer, his face now mere inches from yours. You can practically count the freckles sprinkled across his cheeks, each one like a tiny little constellation on his skin. You can see the flecks of gold in his deep brown eyes.

"Tell me what you need," he whispers, his voice carrying a hint of pleading. "Tell me how I can help you."

You struggle to find words for a moment, your mind swimming in a haze of desire and need. You're acutely aware of Sebastian's proximity, his body so close to yours that you can feel the heat radiating off him.

Finally, you manage to find your voice, your tone pleading and desperate.

"I need you," you beg. "Please, Sebastian."

His fingers grip the flesh of your inner thigh as he hears your words, his expression growing even more intense. His eyes are like pools of fire as he looks at you.

He leans in even closer, his lips inches away from yours.

"Whatever you need, my little ballerina."

His long fingers graze against your covered core, drawing out a soft moan from you. You instinctively slide your hips forward, needing to feel more.

"Fuck." He breathes out.

His fingers continue to rub against your clit, drawing small, torturous circles that drive you wild. Your legs twitch in response to the pleasure.

"You're so sensitive," he murmurs, his hot breath ghosting across your neck. "So desperate for me, aren't you?"

You moan at his words, and you can feel the heat rush to your cheeks. He can feel the way your body responds to his words, the way the wetness of your core seeps into the fabric of your tights. The feeling is driving him wild, making his own desire even more intense.

You feel him pull away, already missing his closeness to you. Your hands reflexively reach out to grasp his shirt, trying to pull him back towards you.

Sebastian chuckles softly at your eagerness. At that, he starts to unbutton his shirt slowly, and his eyes hold your gaze the entire time until you realise he is done. He pushes the shirt away, the material running down his arms, and you awe at the sight.

His body was as perfect as his face, slightly muscular and defined. You find yourself biting your lip, staring at the lines of his hips that made a perfect V, travelling underneath his trousers. You can see a bump forming at the front of his trousers, a gush of wetness seeping out of you at the sight.

He gently teases the waistband of your tights, slipping underneath the elastic and slowly pulling them down your legs, making sure your ankle is okay. He takes his time, enjoying each inch of skin that is revealed to him.

As he takes off your tutu, he puts his hands on your thighs and slowly pushes him apart, letting out a groan as he finally sees you bare before him, his eyes staring at your soaked core. You whimper at the way he’s looking at you.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice thick with desire. "I could spend hours just looking at you." You feel his fingers trace from your ankle back to your thighs again.

His breath is hot against your skin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches away from yours. He traces his fingers up and down your slit, soaking them in your wetness. You let out broken moans.

"You're so wet," he whispers in awe, slowly slipping one finger into you, curling it upwards and making you moan out his name loudly. Sebastian grins at the sound of your moans, clearly pleased with the effect he's having on you.

"Say my name again," he whispers, his voice low and deep.

"Sebastian..," you whimper out, as he sets a faster pace, the squelching of your wet core filling the room.

"Do you want more, my little ballerina?" You feverishly nod as he slowly adds a second finger into you, the fullness making you even wetter. His other hand slides up to your bodice, his fingers tracing along the lace. He grabs your breast as he increases his pace, finger-fucking you into the soft couch.

You look down at where he was pleasuring you and nearly get sent over the edge at the sight. The same slender fingers that were playing with the ribbons of your ballet flats are now in you, pumping in and out deliciously, twisting and curling his digits at just the right spot. You moan loudly at the sight of your essence all over his glistening hand. Your hands grip his bare back, leaving marks to manage the pleasure he is giving you. He groans at the feeling of your nails, experiencing pleasure rather than pain.

"Sebastian…I’m so close! Please, don't stop!"

"Mhmmm? You’re close sweetheart? Let yourself go, come all over my fingers." he purrs seductively.

He smashes his lips to yours, moaning at the feeling of your soft lips kissing his. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing quick circles as you finally fall apart. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let out the most delicious sound Sebastian has ever heard, your pussy clamping around his fingers as they pump in and out to ride out your high. Your heart is hammering against your chest. Your mouth is dry and your whole body is trembling. His lips are back on yours, kissing you with a feverish intent. They trail down your neck, leaving a trail of burning kisses on your skin.

Sebastian looks up at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire and need. He tightens his grip on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin. "Please," He whimpers, his voice desperate. "Let me taste you sweetheart. I need to make you feel good. I want to take care of you, please, let me."

You nod softly, your body still trembling but filled with excited anticipation. "Yes," You whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Yes, Sebastian, please. Make me feel good."

He lets out a low groan as you give him permission. He leaves sweet kisses from the curve of your breasts, down past your navel until he is positioned in front of your core. You feel his hot breath against your most sensitive area, shivering at the contact. He grips both of your thighs, keeping them spread out as he dives right in. You moan out loud as his tongue presses against your folds and brushes against your sensitive clit.

"Fuck…you taste so sweet," He dips in tongue into you, every lick full of purpose and hunger. You were a moaning mess and he was cleaning you up deliciously.

You run your fingers through his soft hair and grip it, grinding your hips against his mouth. His trousers were becoming annoyingly tight and he’s ready to take you right there and then, but he wants to please you today and take his time. You, however, were running out of patience and he could sense it. He picks up the pace, and you feel a build-up in your core. The intense eye contact he holds with you as he continues his lewd actions tips you over the edge. You cry out in pleasure as he laps up your sweet release.

He travels back up, hovering over you again. "Was that okay? Are you okay?" He asks with concern, a stark contrast to the passionate, desperate way he was just touching you. You almost laugh loudly at the difference. You giggle, smiling at him, and it's that genuine smile that always warms his insides and makes him feel at ease. He looks down at the dazed look on your face, thinking of how this sight will be etched into his mind forever.

“That was more than okay, Sebastian, it was amazing.” You murmur softly, still feeling the aftershocks of pleasure coursing through your body. As your fingers trace over the marks you left on Sebastian's back, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt. "I'm sorry about these," You say quietly, looking up at Sebastian.

"Are you kidding me right now?" He says, a playful glint in his eye. "I like them there. It's a reminder of how much you wanted me, and how good I made you feel."

You sarcastically roll your eyes at his egotistic reply and run a hand down his chest, feeling the strong muscles underneath. "I want to make you feel good too," You murmur, feeling a sudden urge to give back all the pleasure he's given you.

Sebastian gapes at your words but gently shakes his head. "Today was all about you, my little ballerina," He smiles, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer. "And besides, I'm perfectly happy just holding you right now. We can do something else another time."

‘Another time.’ You ponder, happy that this isn’t a one time thing for him.

He quickly cleans you up with a simple charm, then gently takes your ankle in his hands, checking to make sure it's okay. Once he's satisfied that you're alright, he grabs a blanket and carefully drapes it over both of you, settling in with his arms wrapped around you. He pulls you close, nuzzling his face into your hair.

"You know you can be vulnerable with me, right? I'm here for you." He says softly as he strokes your hair.

Your heart soars as you look up at his face. Without saying a word, you lean up and press a gentle kiss to his lips, pouring all the emotions you're feeling into that one gesture. You pull back and give him a soft smile, the message in your eyes clear. You don't need to speak, the kiss was all the answer he needed.

"Go to sleep, darling. I can see how tired you are."

You bury your face into Sebastian's chest, feeling the familiar comfort of his warmth and scent surrounding you. Your body is still buzzing from the intense pleasure earlier, but the exhaustion is starting to set in. You can feel Sebastian's heartbeat against your cheek, the steady rhythm soothing you. You can feel yourself starting to doze off, your eyes heavy and your body relaxing into his embrace.

'gentleman' sebastian was not being very gentlemanly...

this is my first smut, so it's not the greatest! hope you guys like it so far:) there will be a part 3 coming soon!!!

feedback is appreciated :)

[sparrowrye]

Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A3 Part 15

Synopsis: Alastor disappeared for 8 years, leaving you confused, crushed, and angry. You spent those years building up your new self and protecting the haven from dangers left and right. What will happen when he returns to the new changes? Will he return anytime soon? Could you even go back to the way things were?

Previous part

Part 15: boiling blood

WARNING! Emotional, long, and spicy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I told you to do it in the basement!" I jutted a finger to the hallway between the kitchen and front door. It was the only place it felt a door to the disconnected basement would sit. "And I specifically told you why!"

"I was not expecting the devils to be home," Alastor seethed. "They should be in school."

"It's a half day for the change in season."

"So they should have been in school," he pointed out. "I am not at fault if they came back at a time they're scheduled to be elsewhere." One hand was on his cane and the other rubbed his claws together as he examined them.

"That doesn't change the fact that I asked you to do your cannibal shit in the basement where they couldn't risk seeing it."

"I hardly see any reason to it anymore." He put both claws on his cane and gave me a pointed look. "They're fully aware of who I am and what I do, who you are and what you do, and they're old enough to handle a little blood."

"You had someone's leg on our kitchen counter!" I practically screamed. I knew Nym and Thatcher were listening but my anger was past boiling point. Alastor and I had been arguing about numerous things recently, most of which pertained to the siblings.

"I recall your precious Reagan killing people at their age, yet she is as fit as a fiddle."

"She's not," my stare hardened. "It causes plenty of problems that took the eight years you were gone for us to figure out how to manage it. On top of all my problems, too, no thanks to you."

"Thatcher is the only one bothered. The sensitive boy needs tougher skin to live in this world."

"He's not living in the world, Alastor." I took a step closer. "He's living in the haven. Which is meant to be the exact opposite of the world."

"Which is an issue in itself." He flung a hand around and swung his cane behind his back. He started circling me as he said, "The haven is becoming a huge liability with this new generation of children. They're used to a calm, safe environment. They're completely defenseless if anything happens to you or me. Or even the guard defense. It's a city of sheep in a world of wolves."

I sighed, landing my forehead in the palm of my hand. "I don't feel like talking about this right now. Keep your cannibalistic stuff to the basement."

"I do believe this is my house," he challenged from behind.

My tail lashed out first. He evaded the weapon a breath before my sharp teeth came near his face. He returned the snarl just as easily.

"A house that you barely touched for centuries," I answered. "A house that Husker and I fixed up during my first year here. A house that I've lived in for years now and a house that I raised three children in."

"I would hardly consider Reagan as one of the children you raised in the house." His smile was smug and mentally the equivalent to nails on a chalkboard.

"Not the point, Alastor." I emphasized the T's in my words. "The house belongs to the both of us. You're free to continue your broadcasts in your office so I'm asking you to keep the rest of your sadistic nonsense to the basement."

He straightened his back, claws tapping on his cane one at a time. "I am declining." My tail flapped against the wood floor. "What will you do about it?"

I could feel him reading my thoughts. He was reading my emotions, hearing the immediate thoughts, and digging for the deeper roots. I wanted to challenge him again, but the rational side of me was reminding me of all the times he had beaten me. However, my power and skills had only grown during his absence. We had our scuffle on the day of his return but that wasn't really a fight.

"Banish the thought, dear," he said. "You are not ready for me yet." His mind pulled out of mine, out of my memories, and stayed at a surface level. He had searched through my memories of his absence.

My phone ran from the hallway table. Alastor's eyes turned black as he glanced over at the disastrous device hidden away in the drawer. Vox was calling me.

"What's the harm in trying?" I used my sweet, happy voice as I walked over to the drawer and withdrew the device. I held the phone in my hand and leaned against the table. "It's not like you can kill me."

Then I answered the phone.

****

"Amazing as always!" Vox threw his hands to the side in a grand gesture. "And just in the nick of time."

"How so?" I asked, letting go of the dead Human and letting him fall off the roof of Vox's television headquarters. My maroon coat hadn't gotten dirty one bit in the skirmish.

A band of Humans and Demons had attempted to overtake his headquarters. They had taken over the first floor by the time I had arrived. Fortunately for Vox, his staircases were all narrow and trapping them inside was "as easy as pie", as Rosie loved to say.

"I have a fight about to start. Don't worry—" he pointed a blue claw in my direction, "it's all willing participants this time."

"Amazing," I said in a bored tone, tilting my head back to look at the overcast, afternoon sky.

"How's Alastor?"

I went still. "Why?"

"Well, I mean how are things with Alastor? You seemed a bit more...bloodthirsty?"

"Is that a problem?"

"Not at all!" he laughed. "It was more of an invitation if you needed to talk about anything."

"I'm sure you'd love to hear my complaints about him."

"Relax, dear, I'm not trying to take you from him."

I noticed how much he liked to talk with his hands. It had been something I always knew about him but he seemed to be excessive today.

"Well!" He clapped to fill the awkward silence that had fallen between us. "I need to run off. This put me behind schedule."

"For what?" I asked, sliding my hands in my pocket.

"My champion went missing last week. I have a feeling he's hiding in the area where my stations and cameras are down. I need to reinstate those myself but it's a..tough area to say the least."

I nodded in understanding. The Vees were having the most issues when it came to dealing with uprising Human groups. No matter how much advanced technology they provided to their territory, the Humans wanted nothing more than their black blood on their hands.

"Good luck."

Vox's eyes widened. "...thanks."

I turned to look over the field of bodies, encouraging him to leave. Since Alastor's return, I've found myself wanting to be more and more friendly with the television Demon. Was it because I no longer felt like he was trying to convince me to give up on Alastor returning?

I felt Vox leave. I reached my magic out and started collecting the bodies.

The hair on the back of my neck stood up. Alastor was here.

I scanned the landscape for a sharp red coat or intelligent shadow. There was none but I could still feelhim. He was near.

Come out, I demanded through the connection. No response. I felt anxiety creeping into my shoulders as his presence came closer and yet still no sign.

Another minute passed before he arrived directly behind me. I spun but his shadows pulled him away at the last second. I tried to follow it but he was too fast. Then I felt him in the field. I turned again but as soon as my eyes landed on him he melted away.

Stop playing with me, Alastor.

I could feel the burn of his anger sneaking through our connection. It wasn't rage but more like frustration bordering on rage. He was pushing me to challenge him, itching to start a fight. The narcissist in him wanted to prove that he was still better than me.

And the fighter in me wanted to test that.

I reached through our connection and pulled on his mind. I drew him close to my mind and he fought it, manifesting on the field to keep the physical distance. I shrugged off my jacket and threw it down on the rooftop.

My magic filled my veins and my clothes melted with my skin as I shifted into my Dragon form. I landed solidly on the bloodied grass and took a few steps forward, waiting.

We were reading each other. We were waiting for the other to move first. He wanted me to start the fight and I wanted to defend first. He was smart, slippery, and dangerous. I had to be clever to win against him.

I walked slow. Then I picked up my speed. I made a question mark trail in the field as I came sideways to him. I lunged for his head and landed my front feet on the other side. I rolled into the grass as I morphed back to my Demon form. My magic slid over my body like warm water.

Alastor's feet stayed planted while his torso turned to look for me. He was as cool and composed as ever, but I felt his surprise at my new skill. I was completely invisible.

I casted wind across the field so strong that it bent the tall grass sideways. He kept a shield up for himself but the wind allowed me to move around without any hints of sight or sound. I made my way back around to his other side, keeping a safe distance.

The hardest trick wasn't the physical part. It was the magical part. How could I keep him out when he was forever tied in my head? He could hear my thoughts so I had to keep my mind blank.

I moved to get closer when he suddenly turned around and stared directly at me.

The motion unnerved me and my invisible shield vanished. I put up a normal shield as I ran for him on all fours, half morphed into a Dragon. As expected, he slipped into the shadows to avoid my advance.

Alastor had a single weakness only I—and once upon a time, Blackwater—knew about. He had no natural fighter instincts or experience. He was an expert in the field of magic and mind games, but when it came to hand-to-hand combat, he fell short.

That was where I soared.

A tentacle wrapped around my leg and threw me halfway across the open field. I changed into my Dragon and ran back for him. I needed to slip under his magic guard to get to him. He could hear my thoughts which meant I had to trick him into believing I was doing something different. On repeat, I thought: jump over and land close. Jump over and land close.

I veered to the side and braced myself to jump over him. Instead of jumping, I lunged straight for him. My jaws clamped around nothing. A force punched my stomach and threw me on my side. Black tentacles wrapped around my limbs and dragged me into the earth. My bones were close to breaking from the force.

Simultaneously, I morphed into my Demon form and sprouted a circle of trees around me. The roots hooked on his appendages and pulled them away from my body. I scrambled to my feet, magic reaching out to find him. His tentacles disappeared when they couldn't touch me anymore.

"You forget, my dear," his voice was everywhere but I knew where to look, his red coat coming through the brush, "I hear more than just your thoughts. Your intentions are as loud as your voice."

How do you fight someone who could hear your every thought? Your every intention? Your every trick and trade? How do you fight someone who had centuries of practice and experience? I couldn't use my own unique skills if I couldn't get past his magic barrier first. But...

I went down to one knee. He paused, eyes looking me over with a curious and suspicious glare. I closed my eyes and used our connection to slip deep into his mind. He attempted to push me out but his curiosity was getting the better of him. He wanted to see where I was going with this.

I spread out my conscious so it filled his mind, allowing him to encircle me entirely. He was keeping a distance but not letting me go any deeper or shallower. I looked around at the mix of red and green. There were zips of green static and bolts of electricity along the edges of his mind. I reached out and let them run up my metaphorical arm. The magic crawled down my spine and melded with my neurons.

I opened my eyes to see myself kneeling on the ground. Alastor tilted his head to the side then glanced down at his hands. I curled my--his--fingers into a tight fist. His other hand gripped his staff tightly. I took a step forward and his body obliged. One foot after another, it gradually became easier and easier to move him.

I was a puppeteer.

Then I felt it. Alastor's curiosity turned to ice cold fear. His mind attempted to lash at me but it refused to hurt itself. I could feel my grip on him loosening and hurriedly made him kneel down beside me. I closed his eyes and as soon as I pulled myself partly out of this new state, his claws gripped me by the neck and shoved me back to my own body.

The force was the worst whiplash I had ever experienced. My head slammed into the earth and my mind felt like it had lost its anchor. I had lost all control of my mind and limbs. I was helpless as I stared up at the dusking sky. My head and entire body exploded in pain with every heartbeat. What had happened? What did he do to me? Why couldn't I focus?

I lost track of time. Minutes or hours passed until I was finally able to turn my head. Alastor was leaning against a tree, his back to me. I tried to sense his state of mind but I found I was unable to feel him. The connection was faint and it...hurt?

I flexed my fingers, then my toes, then my arms, then my legs, then finally pushed myself to a sitting position. My limbs had the faint feel of pins and needles. I still felt slightly off-kilter and dragged myself to the nearest tree to lean my back against it. My eyes latched onto Alastor's red coat. Whatever happened...it had seriously upset him.

My throat felt dry and my voice cracked as I called for him. His ear twitched at the sound but nothing else moved. Our connection, the thread, felt thin and near-ready to snap. Was that even possible? Could a soulmate connection do that? Could it break?

I tried calling him again. Still nothing. I tried reaching out to say something in our minds but it almost felt like our bond was bleeding. How does that even happen? How does one even describe such a feeling? It made me scared to attempt anything through it.

"I'm sorry," I managed.

He finally turned his head. His red, beady eye flickered as he looked me over. He turned his head away again. "It's getting late. We should head back."

I swallowed. His voice was monotone. It wasn't his chipper one, or his killer one, or even anything in between. It was the most flatlined tone he had, a tone he's come close to using with me but never actually did.

Using the tree behind me, I pushed myself to my feet. My knee buckled on the way up. I tried again and locked them when I was finally all the way up. I stared at my feet, unable to do anything else. I was afraid to think. Whatever state our minds were in was currently holding our bond together and I didn't want to risk ruining that. Everything felt fragile.

His red tipped boots came into view. His claws lightly grabbed my arm before he teleported us back home. The feeling left me discombobulated. I barely managed to follow him through the back door, eyes never leaving his dim, white striped back. No other thoughts passed as we walked upstairs. He slipped into his office and I closed our bedroom door behind me.

I slid to the floor.

****

The issue between Alastor and I hadn't gone unnoticed by our circles. Everyone was asking me what happened, knowing full well that Alastor wouldn't give anything up, but they got nothing more than "We fought" from me. The only people who knew more were Husker and Reagan. I told them about our argument beforehand and a little of the fight at Vox's station, but even then I kept the mind issue to myself.

I had done something wrong and it needed to be resolved between us.

Alastor had been avoiding me for the past six days. He didn't eat--if he did then it wasn't anywhere near me or the children--and he only came to bed when I had fallen asleep. He always made sure to be out of bed before I woke up, too. The only hint that told me he even slept was the slightly warm spot on his side of the bed.

I had intended to wait for him to approach me but there was a part of me that worried he wouldn't for several weeks.

So here I was, standing in front of his office door and trying to bring myself to knock. I reasoned that I had done him wrong so it was up to me to make it right. I couldn't do that if he was avoiding me.

I swallowed on nothing and lifted my hand. My knock was soft. Anxiety bubbled at the thought of needing to knock again. Could I even do that?

Footsteps warned me before the door creaked open. His smile was anything but that. It was close lipped and his eyes seemed to sag. The red wasn't as prominent as he looked at anywhere but my eyes. This was my first time seeing him in a state like this. I had really fucked up.

"Yes?" he prompted when I was silent for too long.

"I uh...I wanted to apologize. And maybe...talk about what happened." I locked my hands behind my back and made a crescent shape with my tail behind me. My eyes dropped to look into the dark office as I waited for his response. I never knew that Alastor not looking me in the eye unnerved me so much.

He let out a sigh. "I suppose we should." He opened the door a fraction more before returning to his desk chair.

Noise from behind caught my ear. I looked over my shoulder to see Nym and Thatcher peaking through their own door. I gave them a gentle smile before stepping into Alastor's office and closing the door behind me. The two of them had been the second most affected people from our argument. Thatcher's anxiety had doubled since the incident.

"You may take a seat," Alastor said without looking at me. He was filing papers together and meddling with something in his drawers. The office was darker than usual but I didn't dare lighten the lamps, forcing myself to sit in one of the chairs by the permanently empty fireplace. I crossed my ankles and kept my hands clasped in my lap, my back as stiff as a tree trunk.

Alastor finally stopped fiddling with things and turned to me. He crossed his legs, leaned an arm on the armrest, and held his staff in his lap with the other arm. His eyes finally found mine. My hands started to sweat.

"Well?" His tone was heavily filtered with radio static and still as flat as before.

"Well, firstly, I'm sorry. Obviously what I did...upset you. I didn't...I didn't realize what I was doing and I was just exploring. And...I'm sorry."

He was quiet for awhile. I glanced from his eyes to my hands as he continued to stare at me. At least one thing had gone back to normal.

"Secondly?" he inquired.

I took a deep breath. "Secondly...I...want to...know what happened."

"What are you referring to?"

"What happened...after I let go."

"Let go? That is how you're describing it?" a hint of malice laced his words.

I bristled. He was being picky about my choice of words at a time like this?

"How would you describe it?" I challenged gently.

He glanced at the ceiling briefly. "Throwing you back. Ripping you from my mind. Those are good ways to put it."

I took a calming breath. "You did more than that."

"Indeed." He was using his Alastor the Radio Demon voice. "Never had anyone done or even considered doing what you had." Now it felt like a lecture. "I have certainly felt frustration and anger towards you, numerous times might I add, but never have I felt such rage."

My ears fell. Alastor has always had an issue with his anger but since our relationship had...well, become one, I had never felt his anger was directed at me. Sure, frustration always seemed to be lurking around but never rage. I had brought that out.

He casted his eyes to the window that always stayed closed and shaded in front of his desk. I remained silent as it looked like he was searching for his next words. I watched the clock on his desk tick by. Three minutes and forty-six seconds had passed before he spoke again.

"In my fit of rage, I..." he took a slow, calming breath, "I attempted to sever our link."

He what?

"I ripped you from my mind but that wasn't enough. Since our--" he cleared his throat, "since we became intimate, I am unable to completely remove myself from your mind and vise versa. I pulled and pulled and..."

Heavy silence fell over us again. My heart pounded in my ears as tears threatened to spill. My throat was painfully tight as I collected myself.

"What made you stop?" It came out as a whisper.

His eyes flicked up to me. He seemed to be reading my expression.

"I saw you lying on the ground," he answered. "I could...practically see blood dripping from your mind and out your ears. That's when the pain of what I had done finally reached me. I couldn't fix it so I had to leave it alone."

Again, silence. Both of us had wronged the other. How was it that our arguments always seemed to escalate? Why were our fights always high stakes and aggressive? Why couldn't they ever be normal? Why couldn't they be like our disagreement earlier before Vox called me? Why couldn't our relationship be normal?

I dropped my head as a stray tear fell. I fought the urge to sniffle as I wiped the tear away. I had managed to make Alastor feel hatred and rage towards me. I had managed to make him feel the need to rip our bond apart. All because I needed to know if I could beat him. We weren't on opposite sides.

There was also the concern that it was possible to sever a soulmate bond. Could anyone do that or was it just us? Was something like that only possible with two Demons? With Demons who had strong magic? He was a Demon and I was a Demi-Demon, half Angel half Demon. If something like this had happened before then it wasn't recorded or given to the public.

I swallowed the urge to cry again. "I'm sorry. I...I didn't mean to cause that."

He let the silence go for a moment longer. "Never do that to me again. Do you understand?"

I nodded. "Yes."

"Good." He looked at the window again and rested his chin on his fist. I recrossed my ankles and ran my hand up and down the side of my arm.

I waited a minute. Then said, "How do we fix it?" When he didn't say anything I quickly added, "If you want to, of course. I'd understand if you...wanted to...to go back to the way things were in the beginning."

That made his head turn. I avoided his eyes in exchange for my hands. My ears were still pinned as I failed to keep the tears back. I berated myself for showing my dramatic, emotional side. I was never good at hiding this stupid side around him. I could hold my act around anyone else but him?

"Mon chérie amour," the foreign language rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He stood, abandoning his cane against his chair, and came to stand in front of me. He placed a hand atop my head and that undid me completely. I managed to silence the horrible sounds of my sobs but the tears and sharp sucks of air were giving me away. My mind was spinning but he couldn't hear any of it.

His hand moved to my chin in an attempt to lift my head but I pulled away. I pressed my face into the side of the chair as another sob rocked my figure. It hurt to hold in this amount of pain and sadness.

"I am grateful this is upsetting you."

I abruptly stopped crying.

He went on, "Your care is obvious. You feel the weight of what transpired and are willing to pay the consequences. I suppose...I should also apologize for attempting such a shameful act." His wording was telling me he was upset with himself for trying to break our bond. "I would like to explain myself further. Though you must look at me first."

He tried for my chin again. I wiped my eyes as I let him direct my gaze upward. He dropped his radio filter. "What you did was very similar to...it was similar to my disappearance."

My jaw clenched. I could remember him pulling me into his memories of the black abyss. He had been thrown into that void unwillingly. He had no control. I had imprisoned him in a similar way, pushing his mind out of his body so he couldn't move or do anything in retaliation.

"I'm sorry," my voice cracked. He wiped a stray tear and leaned his other arm on the back of the tall chair. Nearly all my muscles relaxed at the sight.

His smile turned sweet. "How do you manage to effect me so?"

"How so?"

"I have been evading this conversation. I was expecting another argument or at least feelings of resentment to remain. Yet I feel no ill will towards you anymore."

I tried to look away but he held fast to my jaw. "I honestly didn't mean to scare you."

He scoffed at the term. Alastor doesn't get scared. "Part of me remains curious. It seems there's more to soulmate bonds than we know." I gave a half smile then lightly grabbed his wrist so he would let go. "Stop pulling away." The intensity of his stare was becoming too much.

My grip on his wrist tightened and I tried to remove my jaw. His grip tightened, too, and held me still. "I didn't mean to upset you. If I had known--"

"Things like this," he interrupted, "are to be explored, not discovered. If you wish to explore the limits to our bond, then say so. I am not opposed to it but it must be on even terms."

"Okay. I'm sorry."

"Yes, you have said so already." He twiddled his fingers which were a few inches above my head. "What else is on your mind?"

Even without the connection, he knew. He always did. "I just..." I finally managed to remove his hand from my jaw but still met his eyes. "You've been so patient and respectful of my issues but for you...I've been anything but that."

"You may credit that to our differences in communication. You and I have not spoken about my...'issues' as you so bluntly put it."

"I stayed out of your memories," I said, "but I was too nervous to approach you about it."

He gently ran the back of his knuckles across my cheek. I let go of his wrist and relaxed into the chair. My eyes suddenly started taking everything in. From his red tipped claws, to the bend in his arm, to the muscle in his neck, across his broad chest, and down to where his coat hugged his waist perfectly. I followed the lines in his coat back up to his eyes which were now back to their full, red intensity.

"Perhaps I can make you feel more comfortable to approach me." His hand hooked the backside of my neck in just the right spot and pulled me forward. My stomach flipped.

"You're not still mad?"

"I am."

My shoulders tensed.

"But I have missed you dearly." He rubbed his thumb across my skin. "Have you missed me?"

I reached up to grab his jacket sleeve. "I always miss you." He leaned down to press a kiss on my forehead. "I'm sorry."

"Stop it," he ordered. "I don't want to hear you say that again." We met each other's gaze. "Will you allow me to mend our bond?"

I squeezed my legs together. "I suppose I can."

His smile quirked up. "You suppose?"

"If you promise to make it worth my while."

"You are learning bad habits from me." He leaned his knee on the cushion beside my leg. My hand immediately came up to feel the tight fabric hugging his thigh. I felt my courage building as the heat between my legs did.

"I've read being intimate after fights is better than usual."

He cocked his head to the side. "Is that something you'd like to experiment, my love?"

"If it's on even terms," I answered.

He pulled me closer so his breath fanned my face. "Oh I think I would."

Finally he kissed me. His lips were warm and his claws curled against my skin, threatening to knot themselves in my hair. My embarrassment and unsteadiness had abated by now. We still had more to talk about but for now...now we were making up.

I ran my hand along his thigh and up his side. My other hand did the same on his arm still holding me firmly into the kiss. His hair brushed my cheeks.

"Undress me." His voice was deep and barely above a whisper. It sent satisfying chills down my back.

I was surprisingly eager to undo the buttons of his jacket and push it off his shoulders. It barely fell to his elbows when he shadowed us into our bedroom. He shrugged off the coat then sat on the edge of the bed, pulling me with him.

I remained standing in between his legs as I undid each button of his long sleeve. His hands moved along my sides, his eyes never once leaving mine. I pushed off the last fabric and felt the usual nerves return.

He noticed my hesitation. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer, resting his head on my chest and looking up at me. "I may still be mad but if you do not wish to continue, we will not."

"I know." I forced my hand to rest of his bare shoulder. My eyes were starting to trace the lines and muscles on his skin. I moved my hand up his neck and into his hair.

"You need only say 'enough' and I will stop. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Good." He snapped his fingers to remove my shirt. I gasped and tried to step away but he didn't let go. He pealed his cheek from my bare chest and immediately licked one of my nipples.

I covered my mouth with the back of my hand and stared straight ahead. I used magic to draw the curtain and lock the door.

"We need to be quiet," I said.

"Why?" he mumbled in between sucks.

"Nym and Thatcher are across the hall."

"Is that so?" He stood and, keeping an arm around my waist, practically carried me across the room and pressed my back into the door. "Then this is the perfect time to deal your consequences." He pulled me off the door then shoved me in a chair. When had he conjured the thing?

He snapped his fingers again to rid me of my pants. I immediately pressed my legs together. "Alastor, what are you doing?"

He knelt down in front of me. "Do you want me to stop?"

I didn't answer. He ran his palm along my thigh and looked me over.

"I need an answer, love."

"O-okay."

"Hm?"

"K-keep going." I hated how much my voice shook.

"That's what I thought." His claws dug into my skin and yanked my legs open. I choked on a yelp and fought against him, but he had already slid his shoulders between me. His lips left hot kisses on the inside of my thigh.

I had only ever fantasized about this.

Noise caught my ear. Nym and Thatcher were moving around in their room. I could hear them talking but it sounded like childish nonsense.

"Stay quiet, my dear." Alastor lifted my leg over his shoulder and pulled my hips forward. I barely said his name when he ran a tongue between my folds. I leaned back against the chair and let my head hit the door.

That felt good.

My hands gripped the edges of the seat but he pulled them free and guided them to his hair. I immediately pulled on the red strands as he continued to run his long, hot tongue along my clit. I let out heavy signs with each wet stroke.

I lifted my head to look down at him. The sight made my stomach flip. Alastor had his eyes closed and his claw digging into my leg. I could just make out his tongue when went to lick again.

But that wasn't all he did.

He pressed closer and sucked on the area. I pulled on his hair and let out a whine. My fingers found his antlers and they quickly grew in size. My ears twitched at sound behind the two doors.

His eyes pealed open to look at mine. I immediately looked away and shifted so I was lower in the seat. He hummed his amusement and started licking again. Was the slick from me or him?

I let out another sigh, mindful of the noise still contained in the opposite room, but it turned into a moan when he slipped two fingers inside. I covered my mouth and dug my heel into the ground. My other foot flexed and held tighter onto his shoulder.

The opposite door opened. I froze, as did Alastor, as the siblings moved quietly down the hall. They were whispering in an effort to stay quiet.

"Do you think she's okay?" Thatcher asked.

"They're soulmates. I'm sure everything's fine."

Alastor curled his fingers. I yanked on his hair.

"But I don't hear anything."

"Maybe they went to talk somewhere else," Nym reasoned.

Alastor started to suck as he pumped his fingers in and out. I punctured his scalp with my claws.

"What if he hurts her?"

"They always argue and nothing bad ever happens."

Alastor reached up with his free hand and pinched one of my nipples. I bit my thumb and kept my lips sealed against it.

"Let's just wait," Nym went on. "They might get mad if they catch us trying to listen."

Alastor added a third finger. My body moved with every thrust of his hand. The other one was fondling my nipple still, occasionally squeezing my whole breast.

The pair snuck back into their room and quietly closed the door. Alastor detached everything from me before I could finish. I whined as he stood, fingers glistening in the dim light. I clenched around nothing.

"T-that's cruel," I stuttered.

"That's payback." He gripped my wrist and guided it to his belt. "If you want to finish then I suggest you finish undressing me."

This new kind intimidate side of him was...attractive. How could he be so demanding yet gentle? Firm but sweet?

For the first time, the nerves weren't on the forefront of my mind as I undid his belt. I was slow to hook my claws on his waistband and pull them down to his ankles. I tried not to look at his obvious member.

Did he want me to...?

"An experiment for another time." He grabbed my chin to tilt my head back. He pulled me to my feet and walked backwards. I followed obediently, eyes never leaving his as we made our way to the bed.

He wrapped an arm around my waist and spun, landing me flat on my back on the mattress. He purposefully dragged his thigh between my legs before lifting me higher up the bed.

He grabbed my wrists and pinned them on either side of my head. His hair fell like a curtain around his face. His eyes always seemed to glow so brightly.

"Keep those there." He ghosted his hands down my arms, over my nipples, across my stomach, and under my hips. He paused and looked at me.

I swallowed but nodded.

My hands bunched the sheets as he slid in. I bit down on my arm. He went all the way until he was buried hilt deep between my legs. He placed a breathy kiss on my cheek and I wrapped my legs around his waist.

He started to move. My moans were heavy breaths and quiet whines with every thrust. His own moans were quiet and directly in my ear. It sent goosebumps across my skin.

My hands touched his back and he froze. "I gave you an order."

I groaned and put my hands back above my head. He ran his tongue across my neck as he picked it up again. My walls were stretched and he hit the perfect spot nearly every time. The friction sent waves of red and orange behind my eyelids. I hoped the slick sounds weren't as loud as I thought.

"Al...please..."

"I love when you use that name," he whispered in my ear. "Say it again."

"Al...don't stop..."

"That's my girl."

I opened my eyes to the muscles in his arm working to keep him up. I glanced at his face to see disheveled hair and pleasure-closed eyes. His mouth was cracked open, revealing the tips of his sharp teeth.

He lowered himself right in my ear again. "One of these days...I'm going...to make it so you can't...walk for days."

My back arched off the bed as the heat grew in my stomach. I pulled against the bedsheets. "Make that day today."

He bit down on my shoulder with a loud growl. I tried to quiet him but his thrusts quickened. Hot pain hit my hips and crotch, covered a millisecond later by pleasure. The mix was confusing but didn't lessen the effect.

"Please let me touch you," I begged. He continued as if he didn't hear me. I licked his cheek in an effort to get his attention. "Al, please..."

"Use your claws, baby."

The nickname drew a moan and I punctured his back with my claws. I felt something in my mind knot with his mind. All his emotions and feelings doubled and it felt like a door to his thoughts flew open.

"Just like that...oh don't stop..." I squeezed my eyes shut and grabbed hold of his bicep. The force of his thrusts was shoving my shoulder into his arm. "Right there...right there...Al...I...aah!" My toes and claws curled as my orgasm tensed all my muscles. Stars dotted my vision and a feeling of joy filled my every fiber.

Alastor moved through my high and moaned in my ear as he came undone himself. I held onto his waist for as long as I could until my legs gave up.

He peeled himself off my neck to look at me, tongue licking his lips free of my blood. We looked at each other for a while, breathing heavily in each other's face. I could hear his scattered thoughts.

This was my soulmate.

Alastor was mine.

He had stopped himself from severing our connection then managed to wove it tightly together again. He had chosen me.

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. His ear fell sideways at my reaction. "Why are you laughing?" He almost sounded insulted.

We were still connected as I wiped a tear from my eye. "You...you should get mad at me more often."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Wow...I think that was the most touching chapter I've written

Sorry for the late post!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine @martinys-world @thesimpybitch @papas-ghoulette @masochist-downfall

[max-is-really-okay]

Good Omens 2

So I finished the season, and I must say that it has some of the best writing I've ever seen. (spoilers ahead)

Already, I've noticed people upset with the ending. And while I do understand, I think that it was perfect. Not as an ending to their story, of course, but to continue the story.

Aziraphale still fully believes that Heaven is undoubtedly good. That him being in charge might fix things. He hasn't gotten to the point that Crowly has in his disillusionment.

To get to a point where they could truly be on their own side- one where Crowly doesn't have to worry about Aziraphale constantly backtracking and Aziraphale feels like he can fully trust Crowly- Aziraphale has to learn the hard way that heaven isn't perfect. That God isn't perfect. I'm assuming that's whats planned for next season.

Plus we kind of already saw what their ending would have been like if it were to happen in this season. I didn't think I shipped Gabriel and Beelzebub but here I am. I support this. They're adorable. I did not know how much I could adore those two until this season.

Nina and Maggie have my heart. Their story was so much fun, and when Nina called Maggie 'Angel' at the end I was gone. I want to see that they're getting married next season and I want them to be happy forever. Beautiful ladies.

Muriel is my favorite Good Omens character now full stop. So lovable and trying so hard, it's no doubt that both Crowly and Aziraphale seemed to also adore them. They're just a little guy, and I couldn't love them more.

While the writers/actors strike has put the continuation of the show in limbo, it just means that we need to hassle the corporations to pay their writers and actors fairly for a shot to see the ending.

And even if the worst happens and we don't get a season 3, there are some pretty talented writers out there. I have faith that if needed, we as a fandom can come up with our own satisfying conclusion. Maybe one with a kiss that doesn't rip out my heart and stomp on it until I'm sobbing and holding my cat close muttering nonsense on tumblr.

[paarthursass]

uhm hiii “you don’t need to earn my affection, not now and not ever.” for the prompts?

touch-starved prompts

"You deserve better than this."

Aurel paused, spoon hovering over his bowl as he glanced over at Wyll. "Oh, come now, Gale's cooking isn't that bad. At the very least, he's certainly gotten better now that we have access to the Last Light's kitchens."

"Not the food," Wyll said, fondness flickering in his gaze in spite of the sad tilt to his mouth. "...I fear I've done a poor job of courting you."

"A poor job of — what?"

Aurel set the bowl down as he turned to face Wyll fully. He glanced briefly over at their companions, but he and Wyll had taken their dinner on the outskirts of Last Light's shores, away from the others. They wouldn't be disturbed; unless the others got nosy (which was always a possibility.)

"What in the Nine Hells brought this on?" Aurel asked, turning his gaze back to Wyll.

"The Hells are part of the problem, I fear," Wyll's lips twitched into a small, sardonic smile. "Or Mizora, rather. Her, these blasted tadpoles, Ketheric Thorm and his Cult of the Absolute...were we in Baldur's Gate, I could have done this properly. I'd have invited you to dine with me at the finest restaurants on the shores of the Chionthar, taken you to see the best concerts performed by the Gate's most accomplished orchestra. We could have attended one of Duke Stelmane's balls on each other's arms, and I'd have pulled you to the side to whisper sonnets in your ear."

"Only sonnets?" Aurel quirked an eyebrow, and the impish grin on his lips only grew at how Wyll flushed.

"Had we met at some posh soiree, I'm not entirely sure it would have been the fairy-tale you're envisioning, my dear," Aurel went on, reaching out to gently fix the ties of Wyll's tunic. And if he allowed his fingertips to brush against the exposed collarbone of Wyll's chest, the way Wyll's throat bobbed was certainly worth the liberty.

"I used to be quite the rake, you know. I thought I could drown all my sorrows in wine and dancing and meaningless trysts in the dead of night. Of course I gave all that up long ago, but seeing the strapping Blade of Frontiers in top form on the dance floor may have tempted me towards acting the scoundrel again."

The flush had spread from Wyll's ears down to his neck, but he seemed determined to push past whatever ungentlemanly thoughts Aurel had inspired as he took Aurel's hands in his own.

"That's part of what I mean," he insisted. "After everything you have weathered, after everything you have given...you deserve better. You deserve sonnets, songs, and a man who can bare his soul to you freely."

"Your soul will be free soon enough, if I have anything to say about it," Aurel sniffed and raised his chin an inch. Wyll smiled, and he squeezed Aurel's hands between his own.

"You prove my point yet again. I was already smitten, but seeing you haggle with Mizora for my soul stole my heart again thricefold."

"Flirt. But don't think you can charm your way out of this one, Wyll Ravengard."

Aurel freed his hands, but only so he could cup Wyll's face in them.

"I don't know where that little voice in your head is coming from, but I will not have it sowing such nonsense. In case you didn't notice, I am completely and utterly smitten with you, too. And nothing, not Mizora, not these tadpoles, nor the Absolute itself — whatever it may be — will change that."

Aurel allowed his thumb to gently trace the scar on Wyll's cheek, and as his eyes roamed his handsome face, the stubborn glint to Aurel's eyes softened into affection.

"I would trade every single ball for that dance we shared under the stars. I would turn my ear from the finest orchestras just for the sound of your laugh. And I would discard the finest wines just to sit by your side, eating Gale's mediocre soup."

Finally, a huff of a laugh from Wyll. The corners of his eyes crinkled, his cheeks dimpled as he smiled, and both proved far too tempting for Aurel. He kissed him — at the corners where his eye crinkled, teasingly at the side of his mouth where his cheeks dimpled, and then finally coming to rest at his lips. He held him there for a moment, one hand moving to caress the back of Wyll's neck. And when they parted, it was only for a breath as Aurel rested his forehead against Wyll's.

"You don't need to earn my affection," he murmured. "Not now, not ever. You are more than enough to me; not Ravengard's son, not the Blade of Frontiers, you."

Wyll gave a shaky exhale, but Aurel knew him well enough by now to recognize the gleaming of his eyes meant joy, not grief. Wyll moved, arms wrapping around Aurel and pulling him closer into a tight, warm hug. One that Aurel happily returned, stroking his fingers along Wyll's shoulder blades as he rested their heads together.

"Does this mean you don't want me to continue to court you?" Wyll asked after a moment. Aurel snorted.

"Now, I never said that," he protested as they parted. Wyll's eyes glimmered with amusement. "I only meant that you needn't feel obligated, dear one. You can rest assured that there is no pursuit required; you have quite masterfully caught me already."

"With quarry like you? Only because you allowed me to."

"Oh, let's not get caught up in the details of how you caught me, what matters is that you did. And you do. Have me that is."

Aurel's gaze had softened again, though his lips were still upturned into a playful smile. But he gently stroked his thumb along Wyll's jawline as he searched his gaze.

"Are we better?" he asked quietly. "Or do I need to scold that pesky inner voice some more before it goes away?"

Wyll laughed. "Oh, the doubts will always be there. But never about you. And I think you've done a splendid job of pushing them back, for the moment at least."

"Well, you just let me know if they come crawling back," Aurel sighed. "I'll drive them off again. Or at the very least find a very clever way to distract you."

"I'm sure you will," Wyll laughed, pulling Aurel in to press a kiss to his forehead. "As you always do."

[nogoawaytism]

I was going to make a post about this anyway, but since it's Nitpick November, this will be my submission.

RWBY's characters have a problem with only interacting in pairs. I.e. Penny interacts a lot with Ruby, Pietro, and Winter, but basically has no meaningful relationship with anyone else. It's like the writers establish "hey, this pair of characters here will interact often because they're partners, this pair will interact often because they are love interests, this pair will interact because they share a story arc, etc". Which is good of course, but it's like they forget to add in those interactions with the other characters. The initial gang of RWBY/JNPR is presented as good friends in a group, but it's just harder to buy when some characters never interact in a meaningful way. Ruby and Weiss have a lot of interaction with Jaune, and Weiss interacts some with Pyrrha, but that's the gist of anything noteworthy. Ruby and Blake are not only on the same team, they're on the titular team that's been established as a sisterhood. Yet, they have almost nothing in the way of interactions until V6. I feel like the writing team has these moments where they realize that some characters and their relationships are underdeveloped, so they write in some stuff for them to fill that quota. That's actually the reason why V5 accidentally became the Freezerburn volume. (What? You mean to tell me it wasn't a freezerburn volume? Nonsense) That's also why Ruby and Blake got these sweet moments in V6 and V8. They're nice, but they fall so flat because their relationship has been so neglected to that point, it's almost pointless. That's why Blake and Jaune and Yang and Ren share these awkward little side hug things when the two groups reunite in V6. Sure, the writing team has clearly realized their mistakes in this area, but that doesn't excuse not doing this from the beginning. It's like the character bloat problem: it creates this annoying itch in my brain that can only be scratched by fan content. You have a cast that represents so many diverse personalities and backstories here, yet you rarely take the time to allow these worldviews bounce off one another. The fans are clawing at the walls, because there's just SO MUCH potential here. Yang and Nora were both abandoned by their mothers? Weiss and Pyrrha both have fame they didn't ask for? That's not even counting stuff like WEISS'S family company being stamped over Adam's motherfucking eyeball, yet Adam never considers going after any Schnee family members? How realistic.

Sure, they've been trying to fix this problem in recent volumes, but in V9 it's actually hit a peak. Because MKEK is so bad at writing romance, Yang and Blake are currently incapable of realistically interacting with other people that aren't themselves. That is such a childish way to write a romantic couple, particularly a romantic couple in the same group of friends. It's been said before, but in real life, you don't just put your other relationships on a standby when you start dating someone. (At least you shouldn't!) I read several fanfics in which Blake and Yang end up with other characters, but guess what? They still have a friendship with each other. Not only that, their friendship is written to be healthier than it is in CANON. You know, the canon where they're making out and all. I guess my point is, even when you have a character in a romantic relationship, they still have such a diverse tapestry of other relationships. Just like in real life, their chemistry with their friends are all very distinct from each other, as well as with their partner. And it's FUN. It's enjoyable reading or watching a story with a variety of relationships presented, because it reflects a beautiful aspect of life. I don't know if I've been very clear with my point, but I just don't get why CRWBY doesn't embrace this principle. It's genuinely so fun to explore and write.

[gaywatch]

hey, it's the 911 anon

i just wanted to thank you for actually reading that whole thing, I know it was a lot

and I really hope you know that I didn't mean it in any kind of negative way

I don't know how to explain it exactly, but the whole thing with that character/actor and his fans has been making me really upset, and I see you as sort of a comfort person and a big part of my fandom experience in general so I guess I just wanted to know you would be on my side

(I'm answering this one in particular because it's shorter+easier on people's dashes but I've read the other two, no worries.)

Pinch of salt because I haven't seen the show and I'm not part of the fandom, but it seems like this is the situation: Buck came out, Tommy came back to the show as Buck's romantic interest but has a history of behaving badly (and still isn't behaving too great), meanwhile Eddie has been Buck's friend from the beginning and there's even been a lowkey outside-the-show confirmation that he's getting his own queer arc while Tommy was never meant to be a regular--which most likely means Buck and Eddie are headed towards canon.

Around all of this is a pretty intense ship war with a lot of people on either side saying all kinds of ridiculous, sometimes even harmful, things and generally talking past each other while making bad faith/reductive arguments. (Not saying you were, this is what I've seen from other posts from my dash since I follow people from both camps.)

Shipping-wise, I don't know which one I'd go for but I see the appeal of both on paper. I'm down for a good Friends To Lovers, and I also have my fair share of ships where one (or both) of them has done or said harmful things in the past but could be great with their love interest after some redemption.

Fandom-wise, all I can say is: don't engage. There are unhinged people in every fandom, for every ship, even if some have more than others. Ridiculous, unfair, nonsensical opinions are everywhere online and it's not up to other people to fix them (I say after many years of thinking they might see reason if I explained will enough). If they're ruining the experience--fandom and shipping should be fun, full stop--then it's time to curate your experience and start blocking people/tags and following people who are on your wavelength. This even applies to people who should technically be on your side, I can't tell you how many time I've had to unfollow someone who likes the same character I do but in a really weird, distorted way I simply don't understand.

It sucks that you've got a lot of fandom drama going on around you, I've totally been there. I haven't seen it first hand but I've seen posts recounting it like your asks do and it's still exhausting me so I can only imagine what's like to be in it. When the drama gets to these levels of absurd it all becomes one big game of 'my toys are better than yours' and all you can do is hope they're like thirteen and will grow out of it while you're over in your corner being sane and having fun like the fandom gods intended.

[actiasteeth]

ASKBOX MEME 055 / BLUE EYE SAMURAI S01E01-03

All prompts taken from season one of Blue Eye Samurai (2023). Adjust as needed.

01. HAMMERSCALE

"Maybe I've been following you."

"You don't deserve my blade. You don't even deserve this blade."

"Go home."

"My whole life, I couldn't do anything right, but now I know what I'm supposed to do."

"A breeze can throw a crane off course. You are a typhoon."

"To a man lost in the dark, an ember can light the way."

"Have I defeated the undefeatable _____?"

"Think of it as an engagement gift."

"Every secret is revealed here."

"Yet an impurity in the right place is a quality."

"Are you stealing from me?"

"I do no know their names. I do know their fate. They will all die by my hand."

"You may be something shameful. You may also be strong."

"Oh, good. We get to kill you."

"A poor technique—easily learned, easily defeated."

"But... then you'll die."

"You've climbed some heights to be the prize of a miserable lot."

"You had a name for me."

"Thank you. No one has yet deserved my blade."

"Death comes for everyone. For you, today."

"Revenge is like gold. It does not rust. It will wait."

"I can never repay your kindness."

"You have spoken enough nonsense today."

"We cannot part in a lie."

"That is your burden to keep."

"You came to me as a stupid lost boy. If you insist on leaving now, it will be as a stupid lost man."

02. AN UNEXPECTED ELEMENT

"I do not want you anywhere near me. Stay away."

"I know why you think you don't want me around, but you can trust me."

"I'd never tell your secret—not ever."

"If I see you again, I will kill you and never think of you again."

"You will not find what you seek at my side."

"I am owed my revenge, and I will have it at any cost."

"My whole life has been a battle."

"Why didn't he just kill me?"

"Victory cannot come from dishonor."

"But what if he kills you this time?"

"There's no shame in making a home here and keeping your life."

"_____. Is your mind clear?"

"_____. Is your soul at rest?"

"Forgive my failure."

"This hand has taken many lives."

"We can only mind our own soul, _____."

"You do not try to change my mind this time!"

"You are not the hero of this family's story."

"Stupid girl. Too stupid to see—I am giving you an opportunity."

"Why didn't you stand up for me?"

"You think I don't know you, _____?"

"What choice do I have?"

"If we're running away, let's at least do it warm."

"I'm not even good at what I thought I was great at."

"You got somewhere better to be?"

"You have enemies now."

03. A FIXED NUMBER OF PATHS

"Killing it is a mercy. Do it already."

"Ugh—coward. I'll do it."

"Don't touch him."

"If that door opens, we die."

"You solve the problem."

"Is that an order?"

"So, if you might, my dear, dear friend—my trusted partner and clear equal, my right hand and both feet on land, fondest heart—spare a cup of concern towards our purpose... and do it your fucking self."

"If he dies, you die."

"You can barely stand, let alone hold that sword for long."

"I didn't kill you when I easily could have."

"How many days do you need before you're well enough to die?"

"You cost me my station and my honor. I'll have it all back when I return with your corpse."

"If you wanted me dead, you should've struck when you had the chance. The time to kill your enemy is when you can."

"You don't want revenge. You want a party."

"No one gets to kill you but me."

"There is no possibility this will be anything other than a trap."

"Revenge does not hesitate."

"Fight within your confines, not against them."

"I am not out here to learn a lesson."

"Count to ten, then climb out that window. Run."

"Been some time since I killed a man. I wonder if I still remember how."

"If you prefer, I can kill you now."

"You need me because you're weak."

"I can beat you with any weapon you choose."

"Oh, no. No, thank you. We're not going in that death trap."

"So if he's walking in to meet certain death, I'll be there to keep him and death from getting too friendly."

"To find out only now—you never believed in me."

"I look your way and don't even see you."

"I have no interest in money or power. I have no interest in being happy. Only satisfied."

"How do I trust you don't leave me in there to die?"

"My reasons are my own."

"What happens if I refuse?"

"Stop counting seconds till we die."

"Men like him like to talk so much they eventually tell you how to destroy them."

[wessexroyalfamily]

{Location: Red Drawing Room, Fogmorre Castle}

Alberta, The Duchess of Chelsea: Margaret, so good to see you.

Crown Princess Margaret of Wessex: You look amazing for a mama whose just had twins.

Albie: Well don’t look to closely (chuckles) I’ve had to squeeze every inch of me to fit inside.

Margaret: I felt the same way after Richie. I was an utter walking zombie. Congrats on the Insider article, by the way.

Albie: Ugh, those magazines are always exaggerating things. Only you and your husband know the truth about your marriage. Besides, the only thing they got right in my article was the part about the coffee addiction.

Margaret: (sighs) I know, I know. I'm fine really. Just not sure if I'm ready to put on a fake smile during dinner. I've been mentally preparing myself all day.

Albie: It's okay not to be okay, Margaret. If you need a break during dinner, just give me a signal. We can escape to the kitchen for a "snack break."

Margaret: (smirking) You're a lifesaver.

Albie: Did Anne talk to you about it?

Margaret: Of course not. I mean we had tea earlier.

Albie: And she didn't saying anything then?

Margaret: Well not anything helpful. She just encouraged me to talk to him. And I try, but he makes it so impossible.

Albie: George can be the same way sometimes. But seriously, we'll get through this dinner, and then we can have our own version of a spa night later, deal?

Albie: Your Majesty…Your Royal Highness.

Queen Anne II of Wessex: Girls you both are looking lovely.

The Prince Christian, The Earl of Gloucester: And no need for such formalities tonight, it’s just family.

Albie: Hopefully we’re not too late.

Christian: Nonsense, frankly you too are the only ones who could have a proper excuse for being late.

Christian: Sorry I missed you for tea this afternoon dear. How is that grandson of mine?

Margaret: Sadly a bit nicked that his favorite Papa hasn’t seen him yet? But don’t worry I’m sure it’s nothing a bit of candy from you after dinner can’t fix.

Christian: Oh good it’s fixable (laughs) wouldn’t want to be on the bad side of a toddler.

Christian: By the way, if you were looking for your husband he’s over there talking to cousin Arthur.

Margaret: Has he said anything to you?

Christian: Not anything more than you have.

Margaret: So nothing.

Christian: (disappointed) Though I wish one of you would.

Anne II: What was that?

Christian: What was what?

Anne II: I thought we agreed that you weren’t going to meddle.

Christian: I don’t think that’s meddling, just…merely stating facts of who’s in the room and who’s not.

Anne II: Yes we’ll, you’d do very good to keep your observations to yourself for the rest of the evening.

Albie: Stop stalling and just go over there.

Margaret: I can’t now he’s talking to people.

Albie: He’s only talking to cousin Arthur, and you know what a bore he can be. Probably babbling on about the old days of empire.

Margaret: Even so I just can’t…

Albie: As your sister-in-law, I’ll polite suggest that you sack up and go talk to your husband.

Margaret: *sighs*

Prince Arthur, The Earl of Falmouth: I’m excited to be joining you on the upcoming Devon tour.

Crown Prince William of Wessex: I didn’t realize that you were coming?

Arthur: I was a last minute addition, so to speak. Extra support for your mother.

William: Yeah, the palace has already bumped up my list of engagements.

Arthur: The government advised the Queen to have you both out and seen more before the election. It seems the Republican National Party has a real shot of winning this year.

David Worcester-Scott: Would that be so bad? If they won I mean.

Arthur: The Duchy of Devon is Wessex’s greatest crown dependency. As Duke it is the Queen’s job, and by extension William’s, ensure that our relationship with the Devonians remain intact as it has since the reign of Richard I.

David: But surely you agree that the Devonians deserve some greater form of free rule.

Arthur: Surely I do not.

William: David just means he thinks the national council in Devon should have greater autonomy.

Arthur: A Wessex sovereign has been the nominal Duke for the last 12 monarchs. Give the Devonians more autonomy and mark my words, you my boy, won’t be the 13th.

David: And that’s another thing I never understood, why do they call The Queen, Duke there and not Duchess.

Arthur: (sarcastically) I suppose you wouldn’t. Clearly tradition and history is something that is lost on the minds of the youth.

Margaret: Hope I’m not interrupting.

Arthur: Margaret me dear you’re looking beautiful than ever this evening.

Margaret: Arthur, so good to see you, Happy All Saints.

(William and David having inaudible conversation in the background)

Margaret: William could I speak to you in private for a moment.

Margaret: I figured I’d save you from cousin Arthur.

William: Yeah, save me but abandon cousin Arthur to more of David’s republicanism (awkward laugh)

Margaret: I also figured we could talk…about us.

William: Oh come on Margaret not here. Honestly, we should have this conversation in private later on.

Margaret: Will we have it? You haven’t even been to see me or Richie yet.

William: This is why I’ve been avoiding coming to see you, I knew you’d want to start fight.

Beginning | Start of Current Chapter | Previous | Next

[youhaveforgottenmealready]

Coming Soon to AO3!

Clark felt rage-fueled heat climb up his skin. He slowly placed one hand on the barrier. There was a thrumming power he could feel against his palm. Then he stepped forward, braced his stance, and he stabbed his fingers through the barrier, grit his teeth when his fingers shoved through the invisible wall. Bruce retreated one step, then another. 

He was flushed against the wall when the barrier tore like ribbons between Clark's fingers. It only took an instant — the speed of thought — to rush forward and cage Bruce in with his hands. They slapped into the wall on either side of his head with a thud. 

"Time's up," Clark hissed. 

"I suppose I'll have to build it stronger," Bruce said. He hadn't even flinched.

"Build it as strong as you like, but you are going to listen to me."

"No," Bruce said. "I'm going to repair this barrier, and continue to make adjustments to the security of this satellite. If you thought this show of strength was going to force my hand, you were mistaken. Now get out of my face." 

Clark slammed his fist next to Bruce's head, but even then Bruce didn't flinch. The stubborn, infuriating man wouldn't even flinch. Clark snarled and leaned in close. "I'm going to teach you some manners," he said. 

Bruce stuck out his chin and narrowed his eyes. "You can certainly try."

Clark was aware of his eyes darting over Bruce's face — and that was the last thing he was fully aware of — because everything else was just wet and hot and breath and lips moving perfectly.

He pulled back. Bruce looked shocked. His face must have had a similar expression. As one, they both seemed to agree to kiss again, just to see if maybe that overwhelming rightness had been a fluke. Clark cupped Bruce's face to keep him close, sucked in a shocked breath at how Bruce's lips sent a thrill through his body like electric currents. They opened their mouths and deepened the kiss and Clark moaned because it all felt brilliant. It took nothing at all to lift Bruce up, put him down on the protruding metal shelf along the back wall, spread his knees, and slide forward. 

They broke apart again and well-kissed was a good look on Bruce, who licked his lips and spoke first.

"This doesn't make any sense," Bruce said. He took a quick breath, almost panting, and licked his lips again.

"It's complete nonsense," Clark agreed. He stared at the flash of Bruce's tongue, the quick, wet swipe. "I don't even like you. As a person, I mean. I genuinely find you upsetting."

"You irritate me more than anyone I've ever met," Bruce said, and let his palms slide down Clark's chest. He did it again, almost reverently. 

Clark shifted closer, let his hips be cradled more firmly by Bruce's thighs. "That feels good. Don't stop touching me." He kissed Bruce's cheek. "Sometimes I want to punch you. Just right in your stupid, handsome face."

Bruce turned his face into the kiss, then moved, searching for Clark's mouth. "I almost quit the League just to avoid you," he said. He moaned when their lips met. He carded the fingers of his right hand through the short hairs at the back of Clark's neck. "Soft," he whispered against Clark's mouth. 

"That's my line. Your lips…" He moved his mouth tenderly over Bruce's, angled his head and sighed when Bruce tilted his head back to kiss him back more fully. When Bruce slid his tongue forward, Clark opened his gladly. He slowed the kiss to feel more of how Bruce tasted him; savor how his tongue moved so perfectly against his. It got a little wet, a little too warm with their breath and proximity. 

Clark pulled back and traced his thumb over Bruce's mouth. Their eyes were locked, like they were both trying to see the future. 

******

Been writing in present tense so long (both "We'll Find a Way to Offer Up the Night" and "Bang! Bang! Bang!" are in present tense), that this story is taking a long time to write because I keep slipping into the wrong tense and then have to go back to fix it. I am actually fairly sure there is a tense mistake above, but I'm so tired I can't even proofread anymore.

Current working title for this one is "Eyes and Ears Have Been." The story is about Clark and Bruce not liking each other, having to work together, and then finding out that lust can smooth a lot of things over. Pretty PWP, by the way. There's too much plot in all the other ones I'm posting. Sometimes, Superman and Batman just need to bang.