#Swallow Tail Tours

[goodlifevancouver]

Celebrate the 21st Dine Out Vancouver Festival

Celebrate the 21st Dine Out Vancouver Festival

Celebrate the 21st Dine Out Vancouver Festival Destination Vancouver celebrates their 21st Annual Dine Out Vancouver Festival from January 20th to February 5th. Taste the world across the city at more than 350 restaurants with delectable multi-course meals and unique culinary experiences. During a normally slow time of the year, the festival has become a popular time for Vancouverites to get out…

[la2yn0va]

Hello! Good Luck on getting Feixiao, good sir! Speaking about Feixiao, Can I request some Yandere Feixiao x Kitsune! Male reader? The reader is a traveler that enjoys exploring and enjoys life. However the reader is quite gifted in the art of combat and travel because of his many years exploring the universe making them well seasoned and intelligent in multiple areas and subject. It eventually meets Feixiao in one of his travels and the two became good friends. Feixiao eventually fall in love with the reader, however the reader didn't really noticed. However the reader had a heat cycle and kinda goes off to a secluded areas to try in come himself. However he didn't notice that Feixiao followed him and took advantage and seduced him. (Note: the reader is a kitsune and not a foxian. A kitsune or a nine tail fox has the ability to grow nine tails, the more tails they have the older and stronger they are. Kitsune has the ability to shapeshift and have access to unique magic that in some occassions can be considered divine, depending. They are mischievious, prankesters and seductive. The reader has a quite more than a few "admirers" both from men and women)

CW: Nsfw/Porn, Yandere character, dub/non-con(?), porn written by a dumbass, surprisingly no murder, petplay(?)

Roles: Top character, bottom bitch boy reader

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

»» ──────ஓ๑ ★ ๑ஓ ────── ««

M/n moaned and groaned, your body quivering, your face flushed red, tour hand being the only thing keeping you steady. Your ears droopy, your tails furiously swinging left to right, your eyes looked visibly dazed as he heaved in multiple large breaths.

You moved your hand to his forehead, already feeling much weaker at the simple touch. This action made his legs give out, he fell to the ground releasing multiple groans as the grass tickled his extremely sensitive skin.

He quickly flipped onto his back, making his clothes and tails block him from the grass’s assault. He stared at the sky, continuing to breath rapidly as his body quivers faster. He bit his tongue and slowly sat up, pushing himself up and moaning as his skin made contact with the grass.

He managed to suppress his moans, shakily moving his hand towards his pants, his cock was throbbing unbearably fast and hard. He grabbed the waistband and started to pull it off before someone grabbed his wrist, making him stop and moan loudly from the surprise and the contact with his sensitive skin.

M/n: Ahh~! W-who…who’re you….?

??: My my~ your looking quite disheveled vixen~

The familiar voice said, as they slowly caressed his forearm, making him moan and immediately become weak in their grasp.

M/n: W-wait…! I-I don’t—I can handle—!

??: Shhh sh sh sh~

They pressed a finger against his lips, quickly and effectively stopping him from speaking, which only made him whimper.

??: Don’t think~ don’t talk~ I’ll help you, and I’ll make sure to drink up ALL your cum~

She promised, using her finger to move up to his chin and down towards his Adam’s Apple, making him blush and swallow from the implication. His tails caressed the persons body, making them giggle before they reveled themselves.

M/n: Ah—! General F-feixiao..!

Feixiao: It’s Just feixiao with you, my little vixen~

She said, working her fingers on his skin. Making m/n quiver and moan even more, his tails opening invitingly and softly wrapping around feixiao.

Feixiao smiled euphorically, finally, after so long she has you in her hands. After so many manic moments where she wanted to let loose and kill all your other admirers and take you for herself! Her patience and planning had been rewarded. In the best possible way.

M/n: Please…d-don’t burden yourself with…with m-my—!

Feixiao: Oh no no no, little vixen~ don’t you dare try to solve this issue on your own~

She leaned in, licking his neck and making him shiver and moan. His tails beginning to bring feixiao closer to his body.

Feixiao: Even your tails want me~ admit it vixen~ you want me.. just as much as I want you~

She whispered in his ear, beginning to nimble and lick his ear, which drove the Male Kitsune even crazier. As her mouth worked on his ear, his entire body was now vibrating with pure unbridled lust.

He fell to his knees, and feixiao smiled down at him, reveling in this whole situation. She leaned down and cupped his face, giving him soft kitten licks on his face.

Feixiao: mmm~ you look so fucking pretty like this~ All fucked up and on your knees for me~ Hehe, you look more like a puppy then a Kitsune my little vixen~

M/n: Please..p-please~

He begged, whimpering and sounding like he was about to cry from lust and desire. His eyes slowly opened to look at feixiao, whom right now is the only woman that can give him the pleasure he’s going insane for.

Feixiao: Please what puppy~? Use your words~

She said, getting a sadistic joy at his begging. This very sight of you was worth everything she had gone through. On your knees, your face cupped in her hands, your tails caressing her body and trying to bring her impossibly closer.

M/n: H-help me..! Please…please fuck me!!

He yelled out shamelessly. He couldn’t stop himself anymore, he needs to fuck something! He needs someone to fuck him! He just needs to have sex. His tails were desperately wrapping around her body, try to pull her ontop of him.

She softly moved his tails away, and lifted him up to his feet, in which he immediately fell onto her. She caught him and chuckled, as m/n began to lick her neck, causing her to groan. She then slowly pushed him away from her neck.

Feixiao: Now now~ easy little puppy~

M/n: N-no please…! I can’t-can’t wait any—!!

She put a finger against his lips, stopping him from talking, and moving behind him.

Feixiao: Tell me you love me~

M/n: Huh~?

Feixiao: I don’t believe I stuttered puppy. Tell me you love me~

She began to squeeze his skin, making him breath more rapidly. Moving her thigh up and down his own, making him tremble more. Biting, licking, and whispering into his ear, making his mind and eyes more dazed and hazed then they already were.

Feixiao: Tell me you love me~ tell me you want to stay with me and live out your life with me~ tell me you only want me to please you like this~

She whispered lustfully, making sure to breath heavily after each word she dragged out, assaulting his extremely sensitive skin in the most heavenly manner, making his mind melt without even touching his cock.

M/n: I-I…I….

Feixiao: Go on puppy~ you can say it. I know you can~ you’re a good boy. Right~?

She said, slowly making two of her fingers walk their way down to his clothed cock, his heart beating faster, his eyes widened with anticipation, his breath rapidly increasing by the second.

Feixiao: Your MY. Good boy. Aren’t you~~?

She then grabbed his cock and began pumping, finally giving him the stimulation he so desperately needed and wanted. He released a loud moan at the contact, even more when she began to pump, making him go crazier.

M/n: YES!! YES IM YOURS!!

She smiled joyfully. Rewarding him by snaking her arm into his pants and touching the throbbing cock with her hand, which made him melt completely.

Feixiao: Good boy~! Your mine forever right~? You’ll stay with me! Right~!?

M/n: YES!! YES ILL STAY!! ILL STAY WITH YOU!!!

At this point, feixiao was diving into her own high. The words of confirmation had let the leash she put on herself disappear. She pushed him to the ground and sat ontop of him, his tails with a mind of their own, instantly wrapped around her, locking her in and removing her clothes for her as she removed his.

She immediately began to ride him, bouncing and grinding while her mouth devoured his neck. And m/n laid there, moaning loudly and hugging feixiao tightly. Five of his tails softly locked her in place while four caressed her body.

She left multiple hickeys on his neck, stopping her bouncing and grinding as she leaned away to admire her work. His tails tried desperately to make her bounce again, but with one harsh glare, they stopped and continued to cares her body, understanding the command. “Let her do her magic”

Feixiao: Such a pretty boy~ all fucked and messed up for me~ only me~!

She said, swiping her lips with her tongue. M/n sat up, and opened his mouth to bite down on her shoulder but stopping, shaking with uncontrollable lust. She laughed and pulled his head back, offering him her breast, bringing his face in and shoving her breast into his mouth.

Feixiao: There you go vixen~ use me as much as you want puppy~ here’s my little reward for your loyalty, a slice of paradise~

She egged on, caressing his back and neck as he began to lick and suck and feixiao began to bounce once more, pushing him back down onto his back with one of her tits in her mouth, and kissing the top of his head.

Feixiao: Go on puppy~! You’re doing so well~! You’re such a good boy! Keep going puppy~! Don’t stop! Don’t you dare stop anytime soon~! I order you to continue~!!

She said, as he finally blasted his first orgasm into her, making her own orgasm approach rapidly. She moaned out loudly, sticking her tongue out as he blasted a large amount of his cum.

She stayed still for a full minute as his hips thrusted forward desperately. Wanting— no NEEDED her to continue. She slowly removed her self from him and picked him up. Before appearing at her room.

She threw him on the bed and crawled forward, licking his cock and making him moan.

Feixiao: Get ready puppy~ your in for a long week~

She promised joyfully before shoving his cock deep into her throat. She doesn’t even gag, immediately beginning to suck and lick while he scream in pure bliss.

His tails were also shaking, as if they were also feeling the pleasure. They didn’t even hold her down, now all the tails her caressing her body. She continued to deepthroat him, making sure to lick his cock from every possible angle.

M/n shakes violently as she held him still by holding his hips and pushing him down. She continued to savor his cock in her throat, using one finger to run down her neck, feeling his cock from the outside.

She looked up at the dazed and heated Kitsune infront of her, winking before sucking viciously. M/n’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as she sucked an orgasm out of him. Making him blast another large cumshot into her mouth.

She smiled and rolled her eyes to the back of her head, gulping loudly three times before removing his cock from her mouth, winking and giggling at m/n. She crawled up to him, cupping his face and grinding her ass against his crotch.

Feixiao: Such a good puppy vixen~ tell me. Who else had touched you like this?

M/n: N-N-No one…! I-I…I always.. took care of it… myself~!

Feixiao: Ahh~? No wonder you’re cumming so fast~! You’ve been a good boy and saved yourself for me~ never allowing anyone else to please you through your heat~ your such a good little vixen~!

She said, sounding abit delusional but completely lustfully. Her voice permanently sultry as she kissed him to ‘reward his patience.’ She then made him sit up, once again bouncing on him but even harder and faster.

Feixiao: Good boy~! Good boy, good pet, good vixen, good puppy~!! You’re such a good fucking lover aren’t you~!!!

She praised him before biting down on his neck, stroking his tails and caressing his body with her free hand. M/n couldn’t talk back in anyway, only moaning loudly and having a lewd face, his tongue stuck out and panting like a dog.

Feixiao: Mine~! You’re mine right! YOUR MY LOVER!! RIGHT~!!!?

M/n: YESS!!! YES YES YES!!!!

She licked her lips before grabbing his ankles and lifting him up slightly, now only his upper back making contact with the bed below and she turned around and slammed down into his cock, sitting down on his cock and holding him still by his ankles.

Feixiao: GOOD BOY!! Now enjoy your reward~ We’re not ending anytime soon~!!

-The End-

This should be enough horniness.

[coffeeghoulie]

“Wanna practice?/You’ll have to teach me” with Swiss/Aeon. Particularly Aeon being a bit more eager than Swiss realized for the kiss prompts

i giggled when i got this prompt because it's so damn cute. god they're so good.

prompts from this list

divider by @ghuleh-recs <3

Swiss listens to the junebugs sing, eyes fluttering shut as he bites down into a blackberry. The dock is sunwarm under him, his feet trailing through the much cooler water, pant legs rolled up so they don't get wet. All and all, one of his favorite ways to spend a summer day with no responsibilities.

But what makes it better than normal is Aeon tucked against his side, lilac fingertips stained darker with juice as they grab a few berries from the bowl in his lap. The two of them had wandered through the forest surrounding the Abbey for the last hour, gathering enough fruit for an afternoon snack. And when the sun had gotten too hot, sweat soaking through their shirts, they'd retreated to the lake hidden in the middle of the woods to feast on their bounty.

Aeon's foot splashes through the water a little louder than they intended, legs dangling off the dock. Their boots and socks rest together in a pile on the shore. "You were right," they mumble through a mouthful of fruit. "This is so good."

Swiss grins, turning to glance at them. Their lips are stained ruddy violet, and his probably aren't faring any better. He ruffles their hair, and Aeon leans a little further into him. "Told you so."

They huff, rolling their eyes as they glance up to him, swallowing with a gulp. Swiss chuffs, grinning even wider as their mismatched eyes drop from his gaze to his mouth. "Oh, buggy," he teases, arm slung around their shoulders. "I know what you want."

Aeon's tail pats against the dock with a nervous rhythm. A blush spills over their cheeks, the exact same color the berry juice has stained their fingers and lips. "You're so good at kissing, and I'm. I'm not so much. I want to learn. I wanna kiss, well, the others, but I don't know really what I'm doing," they ramble. "I mean, I wanna kiss you too, you were my first and you're really good and I want to be good."

Swiss arches an eyebrow. Remembers the hotel the night after they'd given him their first kiss. The way they'd curled up together in a queen bed and done nothing but kiss until they'd both fallen asleep. He remembers the way they'd begged him to do it in Los Angeles. Waited for them to be confident enough to initiate themself.

But he's in love with Aeon, hasn't been able to leave their side since the end of tour. He grins, kind and easy. "Well, I see one way to make sure that happens," he says, slowly, like he's pondering it. Aeon perks up. "You wanna practice?"

They grin, even as that berry colored blush spreads on their cheeks, making the scar running over their eye stand out. "I mean, yeah," they say, crooked fangs on full display with the size of their smile. "You'll have to teach me. You're very good."

Swiss puts a hand over his chest, his tail curling around their waist teasingly. "Oh, of course I'll teach you, buggy. Gimme a kiss so I can see where I can help you improve."

The next thing Swiss knows is his breath leaving his lungs as his back collides with the dock. Aeon's, lightning fast, straddled his lap and surged up to kiss him. The force of it, the surprise, had let them shove him back with momentum. He only just manages to set the bowl of blackberries onto the dock next to him before they're strewn out with the sheer force of Aeon launching themself at him.

Swiss's eyes go wide as their mouths collide. His hands curl in the back of their shirt, their own cupping the sides of his face. He groans as the shock leaves him. He kisses back, letting them lead.

For all their apprehension about their skill, Aeon's a surprisingly good kisser. They shift over him, settling a little more comfortably above his hips.

When they pull back to breath, white and violet eyes wide, Swiss laughs breathlessly. Their face falls, and Swiss slides his hand up their spine to tangle in their dark hair. "Not laughing at you, bug," he says, petting through their hair as his chest heaves. "You just taste like blackberries."

They huff a little laugh, still straddling his hips. The sun haloes them. Strange, that a demon like the two of them could look angelic, but here Aeon goes proving the impossible once again.

They stare at each other for a beat, two, before Aeon shakes their head. "So, where can I improve?"

The corner of Swiss's mouth quirks up, pink tongue darting out over his bottom lip. He's not sure where the taste of the blackberries they'd been eating starts and where Aeon's natural taste begins. And honestly? Swiss doesn't want to find that line.

"Well, bug, you're very eager," Swiss says. "Not a bad thing!" he's quick to assure, smoothing a hand up their bicep as their gaze drops. "I thoroughly enjoyed that. It's very, sweep you off your feet."

Aeon laughs, pushing up against Swiss's chest and holding themself above him. "I'm looking for areas of improvement, there has to be somewhere to get better."

Swiss hems and haws until Aeon's cheeks dimple with the force of their smile. He reaches up and tucks a strand of white hair off of their forehead. "I think you need a little more practice with kissing slow."

Aeon raises an eyebrow. "Yeah?" Swiss grants himself one more moment to stare at them above him. "Are you going to teach me?"

Swiss doesn't respond. Instead, his hands find their waist with a playful growl rumbling in his chest. Their eyes go wide a split second before he's rolling them over until he's on top of them. He smooths his thumb over their cheek, delighting in the little chuff it draws from them.

"Of course I'm gonna teach you, buggy," he coos, slowly lowering himself until the tips of their noses touch. Aeon's eyes flutter, struggling to stay open. "What kind of help would I be if I didn't?"

[toxicanonymity]

Ethyl's house

500 words, night walks AU - neighbor Ethyl

One afternoon, Joel was outside getting the mail when Ethyl got home. He saw her Oldsmobile crawling into the cul-de-sac with her hands at ten and two. She was hunched forward with her big glasses above the steering wheel as she pulled into her driveway. Joel lingered at his mailbox. For a moment, he wondered how well she could see the pool from her house, but she likely went to bed before sundown.

After she parked, she got out of the car, hung her purse on her inner elbow, and popped the trunk. Joel put the mail back in his mailbox and walked over to her driveway. In the trunk there were two paper grocery sacks, and she was taking apples out of one to make it light enough to carry. She didn't mind making multiple trips. She would do it with a smile.

“How ‘bout a hand with those,” Joel offered behind her.

She marveled at his strength as he repacked the bag and picked both of them up.

She shuffled in front of him, holding her purse under her arm in one hand and her keys out in front of herself in the other. She unlocked and held open the carport door to her house.

An older chihuahua whined from the den before standing up from its little bed, stretching with its tail up, then shaking his head, jingling the collar.

“That's Barney,” Ethyl informed Joel.

She turned on her small oven, and and took a pan of cookie dough out of her modest fridge while Joel unpacked the groceries. The oven handle was almost as high as she was tall.

Her home was neat and simple with lots of cross stitch and knitted blankets. She gave him the full tour, with Barney silently sniffing behind them, wagging his tail. The smell of chocolate chip cookies began to fill the air as she sat Joel down on the sofa and showed off family photos. There were photos of her and her late husband traveling the world. They didn't have kids. There were photos of her sisters, her niece, and her great nephews.

When the oven timer went off, she shuffled back into the kitchen. She gave Joel a plate full of cookies and a 1970s juice glass of whole milk, but she didn't partake. She smiled while Joel enjoyed them.

“Oh,” she raised a knobby finger. “Let me send some with you.” She brought back a tupperware and told him he better save some for you.

Joel raised his eyebrows with a silent smile. She smiled and covered her mouth, oops. Then croaked, “I'm not trying to be a busy body, Joel.”

She reached for his hand, and he patiently waited for a but. Her hand was cold on top of his.

“But if you've got something special, treat it special.”

He swallowed and looked down.

“And hang onto it as long as you can.”

She squeezed his hand, and he nodded silently.

-----

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thank you for reading!

tag list because this is night walks canon

@silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @rainstorms-library @am-3-thyst

[hazbinshusk]

blitz #8 perchance 👀

-🕰️

combined with an anon request for blitz to apologize to the reader during his ill-fated apology tour. prompt #8: a platonic kiss.

There was a whole long list of people you’d least expect to see on your doorstep… your mother, the entirety of the New York Mets, Lucifer himself…

And then, at the very bottom of that list, there was Blitzø.

You sigh, wrapping your robe tighter around yourself as you lean your shoulder against the doorframe. “What are you doing here?”

He, surprisingly, has the good grace to look uncomfortable, but he still gives you a wide – if slightly awkward – smile. There’s a sparse bouquet of wilted-looking flowers clutched in his fist, and you look over his shoulder to see a patch missing from the garden you’d planted beside the mailbox. “Heeeeeey, yooou!”

Rolling your eyes, you step back and reach for the door, intending on closing it in his face. “Goodnight, Blitz.”

“No, wait!” Blitzø catches hold of the edge of the door before it can close, pressing himself into the doorway so you can’t close it at all. Flower petals float to the floor, shaken loose by the quick movement. “Can you just… I wanna talk to ya, okay?”

“I figured that,” you say dryly. Still, despite your annoyance you turn around and make your way back into your living room, the door open. You take a seat on the couch, arms still folded over your chest and one leg crossed over the other. Your whole body feels tense, wound up now that he’s here. “Doesn’t mean I have to listen.”

“Wow.” he says, stepping almost carefully over your welcome mat and closing the door behind him. “Since when are you so…”

He seems to be struggling to find a word that won’t insult you; ‘bitchy’ and ‘cunty’ are probably high on the list. Still, the fact that he’s even thinking about the words he’s using is a hell of a change up from the Blitzø you know. Or, rather, you knew.

It’s enough to give you pause, and you put him out of his misery. Sort of.

“Since about eighteen months ago.”

Blitzø cringes, but tries another blasé smile, waving a hand dismissively. More petals land on your carpet. “Oh, c’mon, it hasn’t been that—”

“One year, nine months,” you say archly. “But who’s counting?”

“Right…” he deflates further, his tail curling around one of his ankles. “…How’ve you been?”

You raise an eyebrow and sigh. “Why are you here, Blitz?”

He swallows, shrugs a shoulder cagily. He rubs the hand not still clenched around the flowers over the back of his head.

“Look, I… I’ve been tryin’ to do this whole… amends shit all day… Tryin’ to apologize for everything I’ve… I don’t know, everything I’ve fucked up.” he explains, turning to pace back and forth across the carpet between your coffee table and TV. You straighten slightly, your arms loosening a little in front of your chest. “And it’s been a shitty fuckin’ day and I wanted to talk to you about it—”

“Oh.” you say bluntly, and Blitzø stops in his tracks, facing you again. He looks genuinely bemused and it pisses you off. “That’s why you’re here.”

Blitzø blinks, the ghost of an almost shy smile touching the edge of his lips. “Well, yeah, I—”

You heave a heavy, irritated exhale and stand again, shoving your hands in the pockets of your robe. “Look, if you’re just here to bitch about your issues then just go, Blitz. It’s late and…” you frown at your own words, shaking your head. “No, fuck that. I just don’t want to hear it, okay? I’m not your therapist.”

The imp’s expression drops, his brow furrowing in further confusion. “The fuck are you—?”

“Just don’t, okay?” you tell him, waving a hand towards the door. “Just go. I can’t do this with you, not again.”

“Do what?” he asks, the first notes of his own frustration ringing through his voice. “I just wanted… I should’a known you would make this fuckin’ difficult. I came here to apologize for whatever the ass-fuck I did for you to stop talkin’ to me and you’re chewin’ my ass out before I can even get the fuckin’ words out. I just—”

“Seriously?”

Blitzø stops mid-rant. “What?!”

Your glare softens into something more incredulous. “You seriously don’t know why we stopped talking?”

He opens his mouth, closes it. Shakes his head. The stems still hanging from his fists were almost completely bald now.

You sigh, retaking your seat. Running a hand through your hair, you meet his eye again after a long moment. His tail hangs low, the spade touching the carpet. He’s… nervous, despite his outburst.

“Blitzø, for so long, all our friendship was was you coming to me with your problems and just… dumping them on me. And that… Look, I like to help, I liked to help you, but that’s all it was.”

He swallows, hands tightening on those stems. He wilts, just as the flowers had.

“And when I needed you…” you continue, and you feel a lump in your throat despite yourself. “You were… you would blow me off with some joke or tell me you had something more important to do. And I swear, half the time it was just getting shit-faced at some bar.” you choke out a laugh, voice more unsteady than you’d realized. “And then you’d do something stupid and call me drunk off your ass to dump it all on me again.”

Your gaze moves towards the desk in the corner, where a photo of the two of you still sits framed despite your insistence that you’d moved on. In the picture he has an arm slung around your shoulders and you’re both grinning like idiots. Blitzø follows your gaze and you could almost swear a wistful look touches his face, pink blooming into his scarred cheek.

“And I just… I couldn’t do it anymore, Blitz. I liked you; I liked being your… I liked being the person you could turn to. But it just… I didn’t feel like me anymore. I felt like… a one-eight-hundred number. Someone for you to call whenever you needed just to make you feel better by justifying your… shit to you. And then when I wasn’t needed, I wasn’t… anything.”

Blitzø stares at you, then his gaze drops to the floor. You notice his lips tremble, set themselves into a hard line, his jaw ticking. Both hands wring the flower stems so hard they break, and his breath comes shudderingly, his shoulders rising and falling visibly with the effort.

“Fuck…” he breathes, then his jaw tightens further, his teeth bared. He throws his head back, the heels of his hands pressed to his forehead. “Fuck!”

You wince at his volume, mindful of your neighbours.

“Fuck, I just… I make everything fuckin’ worse, I can’t—” he groans, his tail whipping behind him. He clenches his fists by his sides. “I didn’t even… fuck, Y/N. Verosika was right.”

You almost make move to comfort him – old habits die hard – but force yourself to stop, balling your fists together on your lap. Instead, you force a shrug, feigning nonchalance. Baring your feelings that way has left a ball of nerves in the pit of your stomach that burns with unease.

You want to ask what happened tonight, with Verosika of all people… what has happened since you last saw him that has him like this, but you can’t. The words can’t make it past your lips.

Instead, you pat the couch cushion beside you awkwardly, and after a moment he moves to sit beside you. The flower stems now litter the floor, but one or two still hang from his fingers. “It’s… whatever. Seriously, Blitz. I don’t care anymore.”

A pained look sets into his features, and you swallow as you notice his eyes are shining with could be the beginning of tears. He hangs his head with a sigh, resting his face in his hands. “Fuck, that is so much worse.”

“Is it?”

“Y’know, most of this ‘apology’ shit I did today… it didn’t mean anything. I was… I was being a dick and it didn’t… I wasn’t takin’ it seriously and that’s why I didn’t… didn’t think of you before now. Because I…” he lets himself fall back against the back of the sofa, his eyes on the ceiling. “I guess I knew you wouldn’t jus’ disappear without a reason and I didn’t wanna think about it because it’d just be… be another reason to hate… myself.”

His fingers play with the flower stem he still holds, claws shredding it absently. “And I’m… fuck, I know I’m shit, I know I’m a grade-A asshole, but I…” Blitzø meets your eye. “I never meant to be that way with you.”

“Blitz…”

“I’m… sorry, Y/N. I am.” his voice is soft, earnest. “And I get why you don’t want me around.”

He huffs a self-deprecating breath of a laugh, his eyes falling back to his lap. “I don’t really want me around either.”

You watch him for a long moment, the only sound between the two of you the steady, soft ticking of the clock on the far wall. Then, you nod slowly, standing. His eyes close, and you know he’s taking the movement as judgement, as condemnation.

“I can’t… I can’t talk this through with you right now, Blitz.” you tell him gently, and his body tenses. “I can’t let myself be a sounding board for you again, not… not about this. But, um…”

You lean down, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to the mark on his brow. His gaze turns upward in surprise as you straighten again. “That’s progress, Blitz. And I don’t think you’re shit. Or an asshole. In need of therapy, maybe…”

Blitzø coughs a bitter laugh, eyes closing as you smooth your hand over one of his horns.

“But you’re not a bad person. Not really.”

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø

[vermilionsun]

*hands over my first born child*

Please can we have a pt2 to the vere and the head-over-heels mc headcanons my good sir, any crumbs will do 🤲🤲

Apologies for the wait (￣^￣ )ゞ

I love these so much

✦ “Lost your tour guide?” Vere’s voice is so low, it’s practically a purr.

"Why, are you interested in the position? Want to show me 'round?"

“It seems you require a guiding hand,” he says as he saunters forward. “Lucky you, I happen to be rather… available.”

“Damn…Right in front of my whiskey…” Ais mumbles to himself as he takes a swing.

✦ “Two on one business, mm? Isn’t he lucky.”

“Aren’t I lucky…” The MC mumbles, eyes trained on Vere.

“I can hear you, you know,” he lets out a breathy laugh.

✦ “Why are you so far away? Come—”

“Yessir.”

✦ Vere pats the empty barstool beside Ais… right next to his half-exposed thigh.

“I am not worthy of this view.”

✦ “I’m not sure about that. Just an hour ago he tried to rob me, and you threatened me.”

“Me? Steal? Surely you must be mistaken.” The smile Vere wears is sweet and distinctly sly.

“Yes, it was you!—I’d recognise the guy who stole… my heart”

“Is that so?” Vere crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, an unimpressed scoff leaving him. “I wasn’t aware it was possible to steal something that doesn’t exist.”

T̶h̶e̶ M̶C̶ p̶r̶o̶c̶e̶e̶d̶e̶d̶ t̶o̶ d̶i̶e̶ o̶f̶ s̶h̶a̶m̶e̶.

✦ “How about we start fresh, hm?”

“I’m certain you already know my name.”

“Hard not to when Leander shouts it every other second.”

"Jealous much?" The MC raises an eyebrow.

“Of Leander?” Vere scoffs and rolls his eyes, unamused. “Please, he’s like a lovesick puppy with a hopeless case. More like I pity him.”

✦ "M̶a̶y̶b̶e̶ a̶ l̶i̶t̶t̶l̶e̶," V̶e̶r̶e̶ a̶d̶m̶i̶t̶s̶ t̶o̶ h̶i̶m̶s̶e̶l̶f̶ l̶a̶t̶e̶ a̶t̶ n̶i̶g̶h̶t�� w̶h̶e̶n̶ h̶e̶—

✦ “It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, MC.” He says their name slowly and deliberately, savouring every syllable.

It takes the MC a moment to recollect themselves. The way he held eye contact with them with such intensity made them feel seen in a way they hadn't experienced before. As they look into his eyes, they see a glint of curiosity and understanding that draws them in even further, as if he knows more about them than they could have imagined.

They swallow hard. “Hot damn…”

✦ “I’ll be back.”

Vere hums and wags his fingers at them as they leave.

The MC blows him a kiss.

Vere simply pretends to catch it in his mouth and eats it, grinning.

✦ “Most people would buy me a drink before insulting me.”

“Hey! I offered and you rejected it.”

“Oh, you did, didn’t you?” Vere smirks, folding arms behind head. “You have some nerve, you know that?

✦ “It’s so cold outside the breeze cuts right through their bandages, freezing their fingers. But if the chill bothers Vere, he doesn’t show it.

“I know of a way—”

“No.”

✦ The street’s as dead as the Amaryllis District was crowded.

"Did you bring me here to fuck or to kill me?"

Vere leans against a wall, his gaze fixed on the MC. His lips curve into a sly smile that contrasts the gleam in his eyes as he gives a casual shrug. "Why not both?" His voice, a low, velvety hum, carries a playful tone.

✦ “You have quite a way with words. I'm sure there are... much more productive uses for that mouth of yours.” He stops directly in front of them, the tip of his tail swaying back and forth. "Or perhaps you're the type that prefers... action over words?"

✦ “...Neither?”

Vere quirks an eyebrow in feigned surprise. “Well, that’s a shame.”

✦ “Patience... I’ll tell when and how to touch me”

“Please please please please—”

“No.”

“:(”

✦ Their back hits a wall. They turn, only to find Vere’s hand resting on the wall beside their head, caging them in. His fingers curl around their chin and lift, forcing them to meet his lidded gaze.

“Are we about to kiss?”

S̶p̶o̶i̶l̶e̶r̶:̶ T̶h̶e̶y̶ g̶i̶v̶e̶ i̶n̶

[fourlittleocto]

I had a thought that the first time Phantom went little, they didn't really have control of their magic and actually turned little. Some of this I wrote while I was little so I'm not sure it makes any sense, but I don't thank anyone will see it anyway so.

almost 3k under the cut, mentions of food, and Phantom has some flashbacks

I guess it helps to know that big Phantom uses primarily He/Him, and little Phantom uses They/Them, and that Phantom was the runt of his litter.

Phantom was already worried. About everything, to be entirely honest, but today it was even more present. With the tour looming over his head and the ministry threatening to send him back to the pits when he messes up, it's hard for him to find a moment of real peace. His only anchor so far has been his new pack. Well, it's his first and only pack, since quintessence ghouls tended to be pretty solitary in the pits. He’s grateful to have a pack at all, and to be summoned into one that's so loving and supportive is some kind of unholy miracle.

He was on his way back from another unproductive meeting with Sister Imperator that was just an excuse to scare him into submission. It didn't really make him want to please her more though. All he wanted to do was be swallowed back up from the pits, because no matter how bad it was down there, at least his every move wasn't being watched and criticized.

He shakes out his body, like a dog trying to dry itself off, to work out the stress. On the bright side he didn't have to talk to her for another week, and he’s on his way back for some comfort cuddles from his packmates.

He pushes open the door to find Rain on the couch playing video games. Dew and Swiss are having a hushed conversation in the kitchen. He wants to bother Swiss for his attention, but he doesn't want to interrupt the obviously private conversation, so he settles for dropping onto the couch next to the water ghoul. Rain takes his eyes off the screen to smile at Phantom. He winds their tails together. Phantom traps the soft, seaweed-like tip of Rain's tail to rub between his fingers while he watches him play.

When Rain dies, he turns off the game and sets down his control. A faint purr rumbles through Phantom’s chest already. He jumps into Rain’s arms when they open, pulling him close to Rain’s chest and scratching lightly across his scalp.

Both of their heads poke over the top of the couch when Dew pushes back into the common room with a huff.

“Of course you put down your game for him,” Dew snarls under his breath, but he doesn’t put any effort into actually keeping it there, and both ghouls on the couch hear it. Phantom pins his ears to his head and tries to hide in Rain’s shirt with a whine.

“Dew,” Swiss warns, but it’s already too late. Rain’s tail is starting to puff up between his fingers. The light purr in his chest drops into a growl, and instead of comforting Phantom when he squeaks he sits up and pushes the quint ghoul to the other side of the couch, left to curl his tail around himself protectively.

“I’m not ignoring you! If you asked nicely instead of acting like a child about it you could be over here with us too.” Rain bites back. He rolls his eyes at the fire ghoul. He seems to care less about this fight than Phantom does, who’s watching like the most morbid tennis match with wide eyes. His tail taps at his lips, but he holds it in his hand. He’s not a kit anymore and doesn’t need to suck on his tail to feel better, no matter how much he actually wants to.

“I don’t want to share you with him!” Dew yells. The blood pounding in Phantom’s ears makes it hard to be sure if Dew meant to emphasize share or him, but his body is in full fight or flight mode and he doesn’t think he can stay to find out.

He moves so quickly he almost falls face first off the couch. His legs feel shaky, like they’re not really his, but he pushes through with the promise of the safety of his room. The door knob is a struggle too. He slams the door closed harder than he means to, which sends another jolt of panic through his system. He feels like he’s freezing but he won’t stop sweating, and the afternoon light pouring in makes his head pound. He buries himself under his covers and presses his hands into his ears in hopes that the screaming will stop.

It’s no longer Dew and Rain’s voices in his head, it’s his mother, the old pack leader, voices he heard only once but hasn’t been able to shake since. Tell them they’re the runt, they’ll never make it, they fuck up everything. That things like them are the reason packs like that don’t work. Their jeans scratch their skin and pull too tight and they need them off, but their hands are too shaky to undo the button.

They scream.

It’s the only thing they can think to do, to try to relive some of the pressure building in their head. Everything starts to feel better, but in a fuzzy, unclear way that they know they should be concerned about but don’t want to think about it enough to be. It’s at least a break.

They start to pull themself out of their sheets. Their pants stick to the material and slide off too easily, the button still done up but way too big enough to hold onto their hips. The shirt they were wearing falls when they push themself up too, at least staying on their shoulder, but the sleeves reach their elbows and the bottom hem reaches their knees. They stare at it questioningly. All the previous panic has been pushed aside, now they mostly just feel… small. And curious.

They rub the hem of their shirt between their fingers and roll off the bed like they usually do, but instead of landing gracefully they fall way further than they shoot. It sends another flare of panic through their body. This one at least is short lived, but it has their knees wobbling as they take uneven steps towards the mirror in the corner.

When they can finally see themself they freeze, staring into wide, wet eyes, then trailing down their tiny form. They have to be half the height they were just moments ago, and lanky in the way all 6 year olds are, not the usual never-grew-into-his-size lankiness he was used to. They know it’s wrong. No matter how much they want to be happy that their outside matches their inside, they know it’s not right. All the emotions swirl in their brain and start to bring back the bad feelings, and even though they just want their eyes to stop stinging, they start crying instead. Fat tears roll down their face and heavy sobs shake their whole body. They want to curl up in a ball but they can’t look away from that little kit in the mirror. The little kit with the same light patch around their eyes, the same white bangs and dark, unruly hair, and the same misshapen tail snaking its way into their mouth to chew on it self-soothingly.

A loud knock makes them freeze. They scream at themselves to pull their tail out of their mouth so they won’t get in trouble. The person outside calls their name and they whine, which reminds them there’s something more important to fix first, but no matter how much they try they aren’t getting big. It sends them back into their fit of tears.

They watch through blurry vision and the smudgy mirror as Swiss pushes their door open, freezing when they make eye contact. The whole room stills. So many thoughts race through Phantom’s mind they’re surprised they don’t explode with it.

“Phantom?” Swiss whispers. He takes a step towards the little quint ghoul, and that’s finally enough to break the spell. Phantom’s tail pushes back into their mouth as they crouch down into a ball, hiding themself behind their arms protectively.

“P-please don’t h-h-h-hurt me. S’ok,” they slur around their tail. Words seem to stick in their brain. They give a frustrated grunt. Their tongue feels heavy enough on its own, and even though the tail isn’t helping, they know it will only feel worse if they take it out.

“I would never hurt you sweetheart. Can you tell me what happened?” Phantom shakes their head hard, almost falling over from the motion. “Ok, it’s ok baby,” Swiss pauses for just long enough that Phantom starts to worry again. They hide their head more in their knees and let more heavy tears fall, since it seems to be helping. It at least made them feel less big and spikey. 

“Can I touch you?” Swiss asks. Phantom’s tears dry slightly as they have to think about it. They still feel wrong, but Swiss gives such good hugs that always make them feel better when they’re big. It doesn’t take much to realize they want to be held. They unwrap their small, lanky limbs, popping their tail back in their mouth and making grabby hands at the ghoul standing above them.

Swiss smiles brightly and easily scoops the small ghoul into his arms. He eases them down so their legs are wrapped around his waist, and their head is resting on his shoulder, ear pressed close enough to hear his heartbeat, which settles Phantom down considerably. Swiss bounces them up and down and hums until the last tears stop falling and they can breathe a little more even again.

“Wanna change into something more comfy?” Phantom tenses again at the idea of being put down.

“No p-please. Like it h-h-h-h-here.” They try to shove their face more into Swiss’s shoulder. Swiss sighs and chuckles at their antics.

“Ok, well are you feeling hungry? Think you can at least drink some water for me?”

If Phantom really thought about it, their tummy did feel a little empty. They nodded into Swiss. The big ghoul shifted them a little so he can walk easier, and the gentle sway and being surrounded by Swiss’ conforming scent almost lulling Phantom to sleep, even just on the short walk to the kitchen. But before they know it, they’re set down on the counter. They rub at their eyes and rock back and forth while they watch Swiss dig in the cup cabinet until he pulls out a sippy cup.

“W-why is that in-n there?”

“For little ghouls like you,” he answers easily. He fills the blue and yellow sippy cup with water from the sink and hands it to Phantom.

“There are other kits here?” They perk up, looking around like these other kits might magically show up just because they asked. Swiss makes a silly face like he’s pooping, which makes Phantom laugh. He takes a sip from his cup and wiggles at how it makes his mouth not hurt anymore.

“Sometimes. Sometimes when Dew or Rain or Cumulus have big feelings, they get small like you are.” Swiss looks back at Phantom after he grabs the cheerios from the top shelf, then turns around and grabs a bib from a drawer lower down. He tries to loop it around Phantom’s neck but the kit crosses their arms.

“I’m a big b-” they start, but saying boy doesn’t feel right even if it tries to slide off their tongue, so they try again. “A big kit.”

Swiss nods and puts both things away, instead grabbing a muffin from the snack cabinet that Phantom reaches for enthusiastically. They turn the wrapper off quickly and shove half of it in their mouth before Swiss can reach for it to stop them.

“Phantom,” he scolds. The little ghoul ignores it though, loudly chewing the too-big mouthful and starting up a wiggle again.

“Oh thank Lucifer Swiss, I need…” Dew stops himself short when he walks in the kitchen and finds Phantom’s big eyes looking back at him, muffin crumbs all over his face and sippy cup frozen half way to his mouth. “That’s… mine. What-” he starts, but Swiss steps between the two.

“I’ll wash it, Phantom just needed to borrow your sippy. He’s feeling vulnerable,” Swiss says the last part through his teeth. Phantom doesn’t really know what that word means but they know it’s probably not good.

“But that’s not normal. Are you sure he’s ok?”

The blood starts to pound in Phantom’s ears again. All they hear is that they’re not normal, too small. It’s something they’ve heard too many times to count. It makes them want to hide again.

But they’re big. They don’t need to run away, they’ll show Dew how big they really are. They throw the sippy cup on the ground. It obviously isn’t meant for ghouls as big as them, because the top pops off and sends water all over the floor. They feel a little bad, but Dew and Swiss have stopped ignoring them, so they cross their arms and say as big as they can, “I’m big, and I’m not a boy.”

“Oh,” is all Dew says.

“Are you a girl?” Swiss asks. Phantom’s big act falls quickly. They hadn’t really thought about it. If they aren’t a boy or a girl, what are they? Can you not be a boy or a girl? They know they’re not a girl, so maybe they are a boy. They shake their head and look towards Swiss for him. Luckily, he smiles warmly again.

“Ok, you can be our little bat.” It pulls another happy wiggle out of Phantom, this one reaching from the tips of their ears to the spade of their tail, which now that they’re done chewing they can slot back in their mouth.

“Our little bat is actually a toddler,” Dew says only to Swiss.

“I’m 6!” Phantom yells and kicks their feet. Dew puts out a hand like Phantom just said the same thing he did, which makes them cross their arms and stick out their tongue at not being listened to.

“Hey babybat,” Swiss crouches down so he’s the same height as the kit. “Why don’t you finish your muffin, and then we’ll go take a nap, alright? I’ll be right back.” Phantom chirps in agreement, too busy after remembering they still have a whole half of their muffin to inhale. Dew steps out into the common room. He keeps watching Phantom the whole time through the window between the two rooms, until Swiss hands him a different sippy cup, this one pink and sparkly, and goes out to join Dew.

Phantom watches them wave their arms while he chews on his muffin. He imagines they’re dinosaurs fighting each other, the flying ones that look like bats and have big claws and beaks. They roar at each other, and it’s a good thing Phantom speaks dinosaur.

“Get away from my egg,” Swiss roars. He spreads out his wings to make himself look big. Phantom, who’s obviously the egg, puffs out their chest to match.

“I’m going to eat your egg!” Dew roars back, taking a swipe at Swiss, and even though they know they’re only playing pretend, the thought of Dew hurting Swiss for real scares them. They look down. The floor is so far away, but they have to be brave. They shut their eyes tight and push off, somehow landing on their feet. They take a deep breath. They’re so brave, they can do anything, so they run out of the kitchen and wrap themself around Swiss’s leg. Dew’s attack stops right away.

“Don’t h-h-hurt h-him,” Phantom pleads. They make their meanest, scariest face at the fire ghoul. Dew tilts his head at them, looks back up at Swiss, and then crouches down to be on Phantom’s level.

“I’m sorry bug, I didn’t mean to yell.” He looks at Swiss awkwardly. It takes Phantom a minute to remember that, oh yeah, that is how this whole thing started. They don’t know what to say, so instead they chirp and lay a big, wet kiss on Dew’s cheek. He wipes it off and sticks his tongue out, but he still can’t stop himself from smiling, which Phantom takes as a win. They stick their tail back into their mouth and smile back shyly.

“Feeling tired babybat?” Swiss asks, ending the moment. Dew stands up and starts to slowly make his way towards Rain’s room, while Swiss scoops up Phantom once again and carries them to their own.

They didn’t think they were feeling tired, but being laid under they’re covers and surrounded by Swiss, it’s hard to keep their eyes open anymore.

When he wakes up he’s groggy, but it slowly comes back to him that his shirt’s not so big anymore, and Swiss isn’t covering him so completely, and he sobs into Swiss’ chest in relief.

[heartfullofleeches]

*sigh* incubus reader pulling jeremiah out of the microwave and into the empty corridors of the church for an impromptu dance before dipping him and leaving before the old man can get a proper kiss

"Mr. Priest~ Spend time with me, won't you? I'm bored to tears."

"Mhm." Jeremiah pays you little mind as he snuffs out varying candles, pausing to stroke your horns as your paths cross. "Patience, my dear. You will have more of my time than you know what to do with soon."

You groan. This man converts your last meal into a member of his weird cult, forces them to break contract with you, and creates one of his own only to never have any fun. Sure he threatened to slaughter your entire race for not complying, but honestly that feels like the better option in opposite to this bore of a nightmare.

"But I wanna play now. The souls you give are nice, but I'm wasting away here."

You hop off the bench you whine upon, snaking your hands around Jeremiah's neck as you jump on his back. "Just think about all the things we can do. You may not be human anymore, but I know your desires. I've seen you undressing me with those eyes of yours... As if you playing keep away with me and your flock isn't clue enough for how obsessed you are with me."

Jeremiah swallows hard as your fangs nip his earlobe; claws caught in the chain of his cross. A self made man of the God shouldn't give into such temptations, but Jeremiah now had his own ways regarding worship. Still, he could not submit to you just yet for he still needed to rewrite the wrongs of his fallen Lord and remake the world into a place worthy of your combined grace.

Being a holy disciple truly was the greatest burden to bare.

"Just hold on a little longer for me...." Jeremiah kisses the back of your hand before ripping himself free of your hold. He walks over to a record player and grabs a vinyl from a crate on the floor.

"Enjoy some music until I am done."

You try your best to, but even the man's taste in music is boring. Some classical piece better fit for a ball rather than a technical date between a demon and a priest. You tap your foot along to the rhythm for an attempt at find some solace in the beat, a devilish grin working up your face as an idea pops into mind.

You creep up behind Jeremiah.

"Y/n, I said wait- What? What on earth are you doing? Let go."

You tug on the collar of his robes as you grip his shoulder, spinning him around to face you. The look on tour face makes his decrepit heart flutter, and anxiety levels to rise. You place an arm behind his back and grab hold of his wrist as you twirl across the floor to the center of the room.

Jeremiah hisses. "Y/n this is not funny. I am a very busy man."

"Aw, come on. I've been around for a couple hundred years and with whatevers going on with you you'll be here for a while too. Live a little."

You wrap your tail around his waist to prevent him from escaping, chest bumped up against his. The close proximity leaves Jeremiah with little choice but to subcome to your influence- nor does his will. He follows your lead as your steps slow and steady into a waltz.

"See? Now you're getting into it."

"Quiet." Jeremiah rests his hand on the curve of your spine and completely shuts off any distance between you; your laughter the sweet cry of angels as it plays in his ear. A little tame compared to what you orginally had in mind, but it wasn't so bad. You slow dance together for a while until the devil in you decides to have some more fun.

You lead Jeremiah near the benches before securing your hand on the center of his back and twisting your tail down to his calf to further throw him off balance as you drip him low. You stare into each other's eyes; your body guiding his into the seat before you mount the man as you work your fingers into his bleached locks. He closes his eyes as you drawn in, his reward for his obedience a single lick.

"See you later, Jeremiah."

The weight disappears from his lap and you from his sight as he opens his eyes. Jeremiah growls in frustration.

"Y/n? Y/n, get back here at once!"

No response - your giggles echoing from a far corner of the church. Jeremiah follows the sound of your voice. By the time he's done with you, hell would be a paradise you'd never see again.

[ladyeyrewrites]

Feelings Hurled Like Hand Grenades

Read from Chapter One

Chapter Three: The Other Shoe

Rated M

4,950 words

It felt like he’d swallowed a tail rotor, and it was chewing away at his guts. Tommy honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this nervous.

Probably before he met Evan for coffee after he’d cut their first date short. Which was saying something because he was nearly shitting himself when he deployed.

But this wasn’t a date with Evan or with destiny or whatever. This was Tommy meeting his brothers for the first time since he’d pushed them out of his life twenty years ago. Part of Tommy wished Evan was there with him to hold his hand and hold him steady against the typhoon of emotions swirling within his chest. But this was music Tommy needed to face on his own.

So, he did what he could to control his nerves. After Mikey had called him back with a date when he and Tony could fly down the coast to LA (one that Tommy miraculously had off), Tommy chose where they’d meet – a café where he felt comfortable. Somewhere quiet, with outdoor seating in case things went Jonathan Kinard degrees of south. Somewhere with parking nearby.

Not that Tommy planned to drive.

He was too keyed up and he had no idea what his emotional state would be like after the meeting with his brothers. Sure, it was possible that everything would go fine, just like it had at dinner with Aunt Gina. Which had been a pleasant surprise that had kickstarted Tommy and Evan down the road to matrimony.

To be honest, some days Tommy wasn’t always certain whether he should thank Gina for that or curse her name, especially when one weekend Evan had spent the entire forty-eight hours going into excruciating detail about the differences in card stock for their invitations. But then the next time their days off had aligned, Evan had taken him on a tour of LA’s finest bakeries and Tommy had been sure he'd died and gone to cake heaven. So, yeah there were good days and bad days: card stock days and cake days.

But all of that had nothing to do with what was about to happen.

Tommy arrived at the café fifteen minutes early and scoped out a table on the back patio with a clear path to an exit, just in case. He had no idea what his brothers liked coffee-wise, so he held off ordering, not wanting to highlight the twenty-year chasm that spread between them until absolutely necessary. He wiped his palms on his dark wash jeans, nerves shaking his fingers.

This really shouldn’t feel so terrifying. He’d been to war. He’d run into burning buildings. He flew over wildfires on a semi-regular basis. He’d flown into a hurricane.

He’d kissed Evan Buckley on a hunch.

He could handle lunch with his brothers.

Read more below the cut or on Ao3

He heard Mikey before he saw him. “There he is!”

Tommy looked up and was Mikey wearing a fucking suit? Tommy couldn’t help but smile at that. There was just something so earnest about his younger brother trying to impress Tommy like Tommy wasn’t going to love him no matter what. It reminded Tommy of Evan in a sideways kind of way. Specifically of Halloween the year before when they’d both gotten dressed up to give Billy Boils a proper send-off a few weeks before they’d moved in together.

Tony trailed behind Mikey dressed like a normal person with a punk rock sensibility would dress to have lunch with their brother: a band tee and ripped jeans with a scuffed leather jacket pulling it all together. Which placed Tommy firmly in the middle of the siblings’ sartorial hierarchy in his jeans, henley and flannel. He’d even buttoned the flannel mid-way to add some semblance of formality to the ensemble. Also, he’d triple checked that there wasn’t any engine oil on his jeans, so that had to count for something right?

Tommy stood and gave his brothers a cautious wave as they wound their way through the tables and chairs to the table he’d chosen for them. “Hey.” He tried to smile but even he could tell it seemed forced. Probably didn’t reach his eyes. Not that either of his brothers were looking him in the eye. Tony was glancing around the back patio with a studiously unimpressed air that reminded Tommy of their father and Mikey’s eyes darted every which way in obvious nervousness.

“You good there, Mikey?” Tommy asked as Mikey shook his hand. Which seemed weirdly formal. Weren’t brothers supposed to hug or something? Maddie and Evan hugged all the time. Howie and Albert hugged too, though not as often and they’d only really met when Albert was an adult. Then again, they’d known each other for years and had an active relationship. Tommy hadn’t had a relationship with his brothers since they were kids. He didn’t know what kind of people they were as adults or if they were even huggers. “You seem nervous.”

“Uh yeah, I’m good,” said Mikey taking a seat. “Why wouldn’t I be good? I’m just having lunch with my brothers.”

“Exactly,” said Tommy and it was weird how easily his own nerves melted away when faced with his brother’s obvious discomfort, like some latent big brother instinct stirring from hibernation. “We’re just three brothers sharing a meal and catching up. Nothing to worry about.”

Tony snorted derisively as he took his seat and snatched up his menu. Ordinarily, Tommy would have pushed, asked him what that was all about, but they were there to try to make amends, not to start fights or pick at scabbed over wounds. At least he hoped that’s why they were there.

His therapist had told him to manage his expectations.

“Before we get started, there’s something I want to say,” Mikey began. He seemed to have calmed down a bit now that he was sitting, though his forehead still glistened with sweat, highlighting his receding hairline. Honestly it was a miracle Aunt Gina hadn’t dragged him to the barber to force him to get a more flattering haircut. Maybe Tommy could recommend a place if they got to that point in repairing their relationship.

“Go for it,” said Tommy, putting his menu down. He wasn’t even sure why he bothered looking at the menu. He came here with Evan all the time and he always got the same thing every time. It wasn’t like he planned to change things up now when he felt like he was walking on shifting sand.

“I’m proud of you,” said Mikey. “For living your truth.”

“Thank you?” Tommy said, glancing at Tony to see if he had any idea where this was coming from.

“Mikey’s been going to PFLAG meetings,” said Tony with a fond roll of his eyes.

Tommy blinked. “Wow.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. “I wasn’t expecting that.” And it was true: never in a million years would Tommy have expected a blood relative of his to put in the work to support him and understand his experience as a gay man.

Mikey shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal and even though it had been twenty years, Tommy glimpsed the little boy inside the man, always eager to please. “Yeah, uh Auntie told me I should probably do some homework before we met up, so I didn’t mess up and say something that’d put us right back to what got us here in the first place.”

Tommy winced, head swirling with memory. He shook it away. Now wasn’t the time to dwell on the past. He had to stay present, to meet his brothers where they were at now, ignoring all assumptions based on who they’d been when they were kids.

“For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you, too. For getting sober.” Although, it had been a twist of the knife in his guilt to learn some of the details of Mikey’s alcoholism from Aunt Gina. Somehow, it felt like Tommy’s fault that Mikey had started drinking in the first place, that Tommy leaving had shoved Mikey off the cliff into the abyss of addiction that ran through their family line. “I know it’s not easy.”

Colour rose in Mikey’s cheeks, and he shook his head. “I’m thirty-five,” he said. “About time I pulled my act together.”

“Hey, there’s no timeline for these kinds of things,” said Tommy. “I mean, I was dating women until my early thirties because I was still lying to myself.”

Tony put down his menu with a frown. “I thought you knew you were gay when we were kids. I mean Dad was always calling you all those names. I assumed you’d come out to him.”

“Pretty sure Dad would have killed me if I had,” said Tommy and that wasn’t an exaggeration. He shuddered to think of a world in which his younger self had opened up to his dad about his sexuality and he couldn’t see any version of that going well. But he didn’t want to dwell on that, so he shrugged. “It’s hard to explain,” he continued. “Deep down I always knew, but learning to accept that I was gay took a long time and it wasn’t exactly a linear process.” He sighed. He hadn’t meant to get this deep into things at this first meet up, but here they were. He shrugged. “Every time I thought I was ready to accept it, there was always something to shove me back in the closet.”

Mikey winced and wouldn’t meet Tommy’s eyes. “Sorry, if what I said—”

“No.” Tommy cut his brother off before Mikey could pile the blame for Tommy’s struggle to come to terms with his sexuality. “What you said hurt me, but it wasn’t what kept me in the closet for so long.” And that was mostly true. The argument in the VA hospital was a drop in the bucket compared to growing up under Jonathan Kinard’s roof, compared to being in the Army under Don’t Ask Don’t Tell, compared to working under Gerrard. But Tommy didn’t plan on telling his brothers about all that. Not now, maybe not ever.

“You sure?” Mikey asked.

Tommy nodded.

“I still never shoulda said that shit,” said Mikey.

“Probably not,” said Tommy because he wasn’t there to placate his brother’s feelings. But there were also things he’d done that he wasn’t proud of. “There are things I wish I’d done differently too.”

“Can we eat before things get too emotional?” Tony asked. He snatched up his menu, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Tommy wouldn’t have been surprised if his younger brother was boiling in his black leather jacket under the LA sun.

“Uh, yeah,” said Tommy, clearing his throat which had grown thick with threatening tears. “I know what I’m getting but take your time. Evan and I come here a lot so if you want any recommendations, let me know.”

“Evan’s your guy, right,” said Mikey, leaning forward in his seat to eagerly grab hold of an alternate conversational topic. “Your fiancé?”

Tommy couldn’t help the smile that tugged the corner of his lip at the reminder that Evan had agreed to spend the rest of their lives together, come what may. That Tommy trusted Evan enough to believe it was true, despite all the times in the past when his trust had been broken and stomped into the mud. “Yeah,” he said. “We, uh, don’t have a date set yet, but Evan’s getting really into the planning. He’s got a binder and everything.” For a moment, he entertained the idea of inviting them to the wedding. Evan probably would have, but Tommy didn’t want to pressure his brothers back into a relationship with him solely for the purposes of having them at his wedding.

Tony opened his mouth to say something, something Tommy suspected was going to be passive aggressive or snarky from what he’d seen so far. The waitress’s arrival granted Tommy a reprieve from whatever his brother had been about to say. Not that Tommy blamed Tony for being angry. Tommy couldn’t deny the fact that he’d abandoned his brothers after promising that they could all live with each other once he got back from the army. He’d had twenty years to make good on that promise and he hadn’t.

That wasn’t the kind of guilt that went away.

It festered.

It infiltrated the foundations of his being. For so long that guilt held him firmly in the belief that he didn’t deserve happiness, and it had taken a lot of therapy to unlearn that thinking. But, as with accepting his sexuality, divesting himself of his guilt wasn’t a linear process, and Tommy worried that if he didn’t try to make amends with his brothers, that guilt would grow again and bring his happiness tumbling down. And maybe that was selfish reasoning, wanting to fix things with his brothers so that he could enter this next chapter of his life with Evan carrying a little less baggage. But was it necessarily a bad reason?

Tommy placed his order on autopilot after his brothers put theirs in, giving the waitress a brief smile. “So,” he said once the waitress had taken their menus and gone back inside. “I know Mikey works in tech, but what about you, Tony?” Was it weird making small talk with his younger brother? Probably, but it seemed better to start small and work their way up to the enormous tangle at the centre of everything than to dive straight in.

Tony seemed to hold himself back from rolling his eyes as he fiddled with the packets of sweetener in the little tray at the centre of the table. The lines of black ink across his knuckles shifted with each movement, somewhat mesmerising. “I’m a tattoo artist,” he said. And that made sense, given the tattoos on his hands and poking up out of his shift collar.

“You always did like to draw,” said Tommy with a smile. “Do you like it?”

Tony shrugged, but there was that little hidden smile he used to get when he was a kid after showing Tommy a drawing that Dad had been dismissive of, and Mom had been too tired to more than glance at before telling him it was wonderful. Tommy had always made a point to ask Tony questions about his drawings and to listen carefully as his little brother explained it all in detail. “It makes people happy,” Tony said. “And I don’t know; it’s something permanent, something of mine that someone wanted enough to carry it with them for the rest of their life.” There was something wistful in his tone. Something haunted.

Tommy didn’t know if that was supposed to be a dig about him leaving. It felt like one but maybe he was being too sensitive about it. “That’s cool,” he said. “I’ll need to introduce you to Evan sometime. He likes tattoos.” Did that sound forced? Contrived? Pushy?

“We’ll see,” said Tony. He didn’t sound overly optimistic.

The waitress brought their drinks, and Tommy didn’t know how to move forward with Tony, who seemed determined to peel the label off his bottle of Jones Soda. So, Tommy turned to Mikey. “Tell me about your kids,” he said. That seemed relatively safe. People liked talking about their kids in his experience.

Mikey grinned and shimmied so he could grab his phone out.

“God, stop pretending like you care.”

Tommy froze, ice flooded his veins. There it was: the other shoe.

Tony was glaring at him openly now.

“I do care,” said Tommy. “Just because I left didn’t mean I stopped caring.”

“Yeah, cuz nothing says you care about a person like twenty years of radio silence,” Tony scoffed shaking his head so that his dark curls bounced into his eyes. He swept his hair out of his face as he leaned forward aggressively. “You don’t just get to waltz back into our lives like you did nothing wrong.”

“I never said I did nothing wrong,” said Tommy, trying to keep his voice even. It felt a bit like he was on the job, trying to keep a panicked patient calm. “I know I fucked up and I fucking regret it. I regret letting Dad drive me away. I regret ever listening to him.”

His brothers looked at him confused. “What are you talking about?” Mikey asked.

“What’s Dad got to do with it?” Tony asked.

Tommy blinked and then it dawned on him. “He didn’t tell you.” Tommy shook his head. And wasn’t that just typical Jonathan Kinard, manipulating his kids to drive them further apart.

“Tell us what?” Mikey asked. He loosened the knot on his tie.

“I came back,” said Tommy. It wasn’t something he liked to think about. And he hardly thought it counted because he’d let Jonathan Kinard send him running away again with his tail between his legs.

<h5>2006</h5>

<em>The house was a little worse for wear when he parked his truck in the driveway. The gutters needed cleaning and the lawn was overgrown. The vegetable garden out back was probably completely weeds and mutant carrots after three and a half years away.

Tommy was already halfway through compiling his mental to-do list when he caught himself. He wasn’t back for good. He was just here to invite his family to his shield ceremony. After getting out of the hospital and finishing PT for his leg and finding a treatment program for his PTSD, he’d joined the LAFD and graduated the academy. His probationary year was almost done and while he knew Gerrard wasn’t the type to throw a fancy shindig for his probies, Tommy was allowed to invite family to attend the ceremony.

And maybe this was a chance at a fresh start.

Tommy wasn’t a kid anymore. He was a decorated Army Veteran. He was almost a firefighter. Maybe, for the first time in his life, Dad would finally be proud of him.

Tommy hesitated at the door, not sure whether he should knock or let himself in. He still had his key, but it wasn’t his house anymore. And had it ever really felt like home? Tommy wasn’t even sure what home felt like.

He knocked.

At first, Tommy thought maybe no one was home, but then he heard his father’s distinctive groan as he got up from his recliner and stretched his bad back. Tommy’s stomach tied itself in knots. This wasn’t unexpected, but why was it that even after coming back from a war zone his father still had the power to make Tommy feel small with a single sound.

Tommy clenched his fists at his side as the front door opened, revealing his father in a dirty flannel shirt and stained jeans.

The first thing that struck Tommy was that his dad had to look up to meet his eye through the mesh of the storm door. Then his gaze fell on the deep circles under his father’s blood shot eyes, like he hadn’t slept in the three plus years since they’d last seen each other.

“Thought I told you not to bother coming back,” said Jonathan Kinard after recovering from a moment of wide-eyed shock.

Tommy shook his head, not sure why he’d let himself get his hopes up. “Are Mikey and Tony here?”

His dad shook his head, making no move to let Tommy inside the house.

“You know where they are?” Tommy asked.

“Why the fuck do you care?” Dad asked.

And it was always like this with Dad. Impossible to get a straight answer. Or an answer that wasn’t laced with hostility.

“My shield ceremony’s next month,” he said and it was hard to believe it had been a year and a half since that day in the hospital when Mikey and Tony had shown up out of the blue and asked to live with him and Tommy had gotten so overwhelmed by the sheer pressure of it all that he’d said no without explaining himself. Maybe he’d get a chance to explain now. “You guys should come. I think you’d like my captain.” Either that or Vincent Gerrard and Jonathan Kinard were too similar and would hate each other.

“Why are you so desperate to be liked?” Dad asked. “Always kissing ass, never taking the lead.”

“Okay, not sure what that has to do with my shield ceremony,” said Tommy. Though he was pretty sure he knew where this was going. And really, he should’ve seen this coming, saved himself the drive.

“You’re not man enough to do the hard work. Can’t handle being the bad guy. Bet you didn’t even think about following in your old man’s footsteps and joining the force because people hate the police but they love fire fighters,” Dad sneered. Not that Jonathan Kinard had been anything more than a desk sergeant since he’d hurt his back when Tommy was twelve.

“You know what, this was a waste of time.” Tommy turned away from his father and strode down the sagging front steps towards his truck.

“That’s right, run away you pansy-assed little faggot!” His father yelled at Tommy’s back. “We don’t need you. Your brothers and I are better off without you. They hate you, you know.”

And Tommy let himself believe that.</em>

<h5>2025</h5>

Tommy only told his brothers the bare minimum: that he’d driven up from LA to invite them to his shield ceremony, that they hadn’t been home, that their father had told him to leave, and they didn’t need him.

“He said you hated me,” Tommy finished. He stared down at his hands rather than look them in the eye.

“And you believed him?” Tony demanded.

Their food had arrived, but so far, no one had taken a single bite.

“T, come on give him a break,” said Mikey.

“No, Tony’s right,” said Tommy. “I shouldn’t have believed Dad. I shouldn’t have let him drive me away. I should have kept trying to see you.”

“Why didn’t you?” Tony asked. And that was fair enough.

Hell, Tommy had asked himself that same question countless times over the last two decades. How many times had he started driving up the coast towards his hometown only to talk himself out of it?

Too many.

“I got scared,” he admitted. “I let Dad get in my head, like I always do, and I got scared that it was true. That you wouldn’t want to see me again. That you hated me, because God knows I hated myself back then.”

His brothers stare at him silently for a long moment and Tommy wants to crawl out of his skin while he waits for someone to speak.

“I never hated you,” said Mikey. “Was I angry at you? Yeah. But I mostly just missed you, man.”

“I missed you too,” said Tommy. “So much.” But it was more Tony’s reaction he was interested in. Had he said enough to convince his younger brother that he was serious, that he cared, that he wanted them in his life if they were willing to try?

Mikey was an open book – kind of like Evan – but Tony was a different matter. His face remained closed off, body language tight and shrugged in like a shield against the world. “Twenty years,” he said.

“Yeah,” said Tommy because he didn’t know what else to say.

“We’re practically strangers,” said Tony. His jaw clenched.

“I’d like to change that,” said Tommy. “If you’ll let me.”

Tony looked up from his uneaten garden salad. Blue eyes a shade darker than Tommy’s own fixed him with a stare that bordered on a glare. “I was ten.”

“I know,” said Tommy, but saying sorry felt like it wouldn’t be good enough, like the words would be an empty shell, easily shattered.

“I’m still fucking pissed at you,” said Tony and his eyes glistened with tears.

“That’s fair,” said Tommy. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to go around the table and pull his younger brother into his arms. He had no idea if Tony would welcome that sort of thing or not.

Tony sniffed and tore his gaze away from Tommy. He picked up his fork and started stuffing salad greens in his mouth as though he had a personal vendetta against vegetables.

Tommy relaxed just a smidge, letting himself breathe out. He glanced over at Mikey. “What about you? You still pissed at me too?”

Mikey shook his head. “You still pissed at me?”

Tommy sighed. “I honestly don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know if I was ever really mad. You hurt me, but I get it. You wanted to get away from Dad and I promised I’d come back, and we’d live together, but that day in the hospital – I’d just got my discharge, and I was terrified. I had no idea what the fuck I was going to do next. I didn’t know what I’d be able to do. And when I wasn’t thinking about the future, I was back in Afghanistan thinking about everything that went wrong.”

His brothers didn’t say anything in response to that and Tommy honestly couldn’t think of anything he’d want to hear anyway. They lapsed into another silence as they ate.

When the waitress came and took their plates, Tony sat back in his chair, one leg splayed out to the side of the table. “You gonna talk to Dad?” he asked.

Mikey sucked in a sharp breath and tried to catch Tony’s eye, but Tony was staring at Tommy like a challenge.

“Has he changed?” Tommy asked.

Tony opened his mouth to say something and then seemed to think better of it. He shook his head.

“What about Noah and Simone?” Tommy asked. “I’d like to meet them.” He’d heard a bit about them from Mikey and Aunt Gina over the past couple months and they sounded like great kids, but hearing about them had only driven home the guilt. What kind of person never even bothered to go and meet his siblings? “They know about me?”

Tony shook his head. “They didn’t,” he said. “Not until the funeral. After you left and Dad threw a tantrum at the wake, Mikey and I had to tell them about you.” He got a look in his eye like that was not a particularly fun conversation to have had.

Mikey added. “After you got back from Afghanistan, Dad pretty much acted like you died. He got rid of all your stuff. I don’t think he even kept a picture of you. Then he got remarried and had new kids and it was like he wanted to pretend he’d never had a family before them. Like Tony and I were getting in the way of him living his life.”

“I know what that’s like,” said Tommy, though it stung to think that his brothers had faced that same scorn from their father that he’d known his entire life. “I don’t think Dad ever forgave me for being born.”

Tony’s eyes widened at that. “What do you mean?”

Tommy blinked at first confused, but of course. It made sense that Tony wouldn’t know. He’d been eight when Tommy left for the army. Would he even remember Jonathan Kinard telling Tommy he wished he’d never been born?

Tommy wasn’t really sure where to begin, so he ripped the band-aid off. “I was a mistake,” he said. “If Mom hadn’t gotten pregnant at eighteen, I don’t think Mom and Dad would’ve gotten married. Dad never forgave me for screwing up his plans. That’s why he hates me.”

“I thought it was because you were gay,” said Tony, agape.

Tommy shrugged. “Well, there’s that too. I think he knew before I did.” Tommy shook his head. “But anyway, no, I’m not going talk to Dad. I’ve spent too long getting his voice out of my head to let him back into my life.” A part of him wanted to reach out and lay a comforting hand on Tony’s arm. “But I understand if you still want him in your life,” he said. “He’s our dad. I may not ever want to see him again, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him.” And he did, in a weird, residual sort of way. Not enough to compel him to try to invest any energy into repairing a relationship that had never really existed, but enough that it hurt to know that they could never have anything more than pain and anger between them.

They chatted a bit longer – well, mostly Mikey talked at them about his latest visit with his kids and how he’d really like for them to meet their Uncle Tommy and didn’t that just make Tommy feel all sorts of ways.

And then it was time for the café to close and they got up to leave, standing on the sidewalk to say goodbye.

Mikey favoured Tommy with a hug that seemed to be trying to crush twenty years of hugs into one. “I love you, man.”

“Love you, too, Mikey,” said Tommy. And then it was time to say goodbye to Tony and he wasn’t sure what to do, so he shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “It was good to see you,” he said. “Seems like you turned out okay.”

“No thanks to you,” said Tony, but it was said in a light-hearted tone that had none of the edge he’d had at the start of their lunch. “I’m still mad at you,” he added. “But I think I understand what happened a little better now.”

And really, that was a better outcome than Tommy had dared to hope for.

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Twenty-Five

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Cloudpaw was the first awake the next evening—when Fireheart opened his eyes, his nephew was tip-tapping in place, staring into the warrior’s den. He had the good sense not to shout as Fireheart got to his feet and stretched, but he could barely keep himself contained when his uncle approached him.

“Are we seeing the territory tonight?” Cloudpaw said, catching his volume on the second word and loudly whispering the rest.

Fireheart yawned out his half-sleepiness and looked at his nephew with blurry amusement. “We are, but—” he lifted up his paw just as Cloudpaw bunched up to jump around “—we should go with your siblings, so let’s wait for them to wake up. Have you had breakfast already?”

This did not seem to have occurred to Cloudpaw. He shook his head, blinking in surprise.

“Then get yourself something.” Fireheart cocked his head towards the truthfully dismal prey-pile. “We’re going to be out all night. I don’t think you’ll eat before we get home.”

Cloudpaw looked back the way Fireheart had gestured, then nodded and bounce-trotted off. Fireheart watched him go with a purr, sitting down to the side and grooming out his messy pelt, grateful that his nephew had such puffy and long fur to keep him warm.

The rest of the Clan roused just as Cloudpaw was finishing his meal and Fireheart was picking up a mole to eat himself. Aspenpaw and Ashpaw darted out of the apprentice’s den, forgetting to shake the flakes of moss off their bodies. Soon after came their mentors, Darkstripe as sour as usual and Speckletail looking quite exhausted already. Darkstripe nudged hard past Fireheart—really a push—to pick up one of the last pieces of food without a word. Fireheart steadied his breathing and moved away to eat.

“The whole territory,” Ashpaw said, in preemptive awe. “We’ll see the whole thing.”

“Well, mostly the borders, I think,” Aspenpaw corrected, swallowing a chunk of the squirrel she was sharing with Ashpaw. “But it’ll still be nice. All the way from the Houses to Sunningrocks.”

Cloudpaw didn’t say anything. Something dimmed his face into a strange neutrality.

They barely had a chance to finish their meal before Darkstripe, still licking his chops from his bird, started to walk for the entrance and called, “Ashpaw, come on. We’re doing the tour.”

Ashpaw stood up, caught off-guard. “What about Aspenpaw and—”

“They can go their own way whenever.” Darkstripe flicked his tail in annoyance. “Now come on.”

Ashpaw frowned, glanced at his siblings, and then hurried to follow his mentor. The pair disappeared through the entrance, leaving Speckletail and Fireheart to watch them go.

Speckletail sighed. “Well, I should’ve expected that. Aspenpaw, we’ll be ready in a moment. I just need to order some patrols…”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Aspenpaw said, her pretty face lighting up again. “I can wait.”

“You could come with us,” Fireheart suggested. “We’re heading out now.”

Cloudpaw whipped his head around. “We are?”

Fireheart nodded.

Aspenpaw shook her head. “I’ll wait for Speckletail.”

The deputy was still tired, but she gave Aspenpaw a warm look. “Just a moment, then. Fireheart, go ahead on out.”

Fireheart dipped his head respectfully before setting off at a trot, Cloudpaw at his side in an instant.

Snowy ground welcomed them once they were outside, the night sky clear and glittering. Fireheart took a deep sniff and let out the air happily, excitement bubbling in his chest.

“You ready?” he asked Cloudpaw.

Cloudpaw, to his surprise, was a little subdued in his response. “Ready. Which way are we going?”

Fireheart thought for a moment on the best path to take. “The road first. We’ll head down past the Houses after that.”

Cloudpaw nodded silently.

The pair set off north, Fireheart trying to find a good way to ask Cloudpaw what was muting his happiness. Cloudpaw was unusually quiet, looking around at the charred trees, sometimes climbing them with his eyes.

“Here we are,” Fireheart said at last, as they stepped out of the woods and on the border of the rocky slope. He climbed up it with marginally more grace than usual, Cloudpaw struggling after him.

“This is the road,” Fireheart said with a sweeping gesture down and up the endless black path. “I know you’ve heard about Snakerocks, but I consider this the most dangerous part of the territory. You remember that car in the Barn? Well, there’s cars much bigger than that, and they move really quickly along this road. Cinderpaw broke her leg here, and other cats have been hit and killed beside.” He fixed his nephew with a serious look. “You don’t have any reason to come here, especially not alone. Remember that a car could just not see you, even in daylight, and it’ll be too late to stop when it does.”

Cloudpaw nodded again, eyes over the road. “Whose territory is that?”

“That’s ShadowClan’s.” Fireheart lightened up a little. “They’re the small cats we saw when we escaped the fire. They’re very kind and stick to their side of the road. We should, too.”

“Okay,” Cloudpaw said quietly.

Fireheart looked at him for a long moment, contemplating, then turned and led him back down the gravel. Once they were on safer ground, he turned to his nephew and said gently, “What’s bothering you, little guy?”

The response he got was instant, blurted and accompanied by wide, anxious eyes. “Are you really my uncle?”

Fireheart blinked, caught off-guard. “Of course. Why?”

“It’s just…” Cloudpaw fidgeted, took a breath and said nervously, “It’s just, you and mi weren’t family, right? And, and you don’t look anything like her anyway, and I don’t look like you– I don’t really look like Aspenpaw and Ashpaw either, but…”

Fireheart’s eyelids lowered sadly. How long has he wanted to ask about this?

“So… so are we really family?” Cloudpaw finished, head slightly lowered like he was expecting to be yelled at. “Or did you just make that up?”

She never told him where he came from, Fireheart thought. Did she want me to do it?

He carefully picked his most kind voice and spoke softly. “We were waiting to talk to you about that.”

Cloudpaw, the poor thing, looked frightened, like Fireheart was about to drop a horrible secret.

“You and I are really related,” Fireheart said. “By blood. But you’re right; Brindleface and I weren’t blood-family. You weren’t with her, either.” Fireheart took a quiet breath. “She was your mother, and she still is, but she adopted you. You and I were both born kittypets.”

Whatever Cloudpaw had been expecting, it clearly wasn’t that. His eyes bugged out.

“Your birth-mother is in the Houses,” Fireheart went on. “Her name is Rosy, and she’s my sister. She gave you to me to come live with me in ThunderClan.”

There was a long moment of silence, until Cloudpaw ended it, his voice very small. “Why did she do that? Did she not want me?”

Oh, and how Fireheart’s heart broke hearing that. “No, Cloudpaw. She wanted you. But the thing with kittypets is that they get separated from their families at a very young age. It happened to me and to her; we were lucky that we found each other again. She was afraid of losing you and all your siblings forever—” Cloudpaw stared “—yes, you have siblings in the Houses too—and so she wanted to know where you were and that you were being loved and cared for. She trusted me and the rest of ThunderClan to do that. It hurt her a lot, but she loved you too much to lose you.”

Cloudpaw said nothing to that. He gazed at the ground, mulling things over.

Fireheart gave him a moment before gently tapping him with a paw to get him to look up. “Come on, let’s keep walking. We can talk along the way.”

Still silent, his nephew nodded and followed after him as they walked along the gravel. They reached the corner of the border and turned, trotting along the west edge of the forest.

Cloudpaw finally broke the quiet after a small distance. “Why didn’t anyone tell me I’m a kittypet?”

Fireheart sighed. “The Clans have some weird thing where they think kittypets are lower than them. Loners, too. I had to do a lot of work to earn their respect.” He looked back at his nephew. “You were barely a newborn when I brought you in, so they accepted you easier. But I was apprentice-aged when I joined, so some of them thought I was too used to an easy life to be a good warrior.”

“Oh,” Cloudpaw murmured. He raised his voice tentatively. “Then, then I’m not as good?”

“You are,” Fireheart said firmly. “The Clans are wrong. Every cat is as good as the next. I don’t care where they come from; there’s nothing wrong with being a kittypet, or a loner, or a warrior. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.”

Cloudpaw’s expression cheered up a little, then it turned puzzled. “So why are you a Clan cat instead of a kittypet?”

“The lifestyle appealed to me. I didn’t like living as a kittypet. It was soft and easy. Maybe it’s for other cats, but I’m happy to be a warrior.”

Cloudpaw seemed content with that. Fireheart let him continue thinking, simply slowing a bit to walk alongside him and offer a friendly blink when he looked up.

The forest along the Houses’ border was still alive and thick with healthy trees. Even if there were no leaves to shield them, or ferns to push past, it still was immeasurably more comforting than going through the burned part of the woods. Fireheart could even smell the trees themselves, if he focused. He noted, to his own amusement, that the grass they were approaching on the outside was still green and clipped up a ways.

When they reached the fenceline, Fireheart stopped and pointed with his tail. “That’s my old house right there. See the fence, where it’s chipped?”

Cloudpaw squinted and leaned forward. “Uh-huh.” He looked up at his uncle. “You got to see the forest every day.”

“I got to see what I was missing out on,” Fireheart said with a small chuff. “You’ll feel it in the springtime; the forest gets so rich with so many different scents. When you first go out there, it can be overwhelming. It was spring when I walked into the forest, and, wow…” His eyes lost their focus as he recalled that night. “There wasn’t anything like it that I had ever experienced. It was incredible.”

Cloudpaw regarded him thoughtfully. His head turned to the street around the corner. “Where does Rosy live?”

“Down that road a bit.”

“Huh.” Cloudpaw hesitated. “…Can I meet her, some day?”

Fireheart purred softly to get his nephew to look at him. “You will. She’d love to see you again.”

Cloudpaw brightened. “Okay. When?”

“Well…” Fireheart tilted his head, thinking. “Let’s get you trained up a little first, so you can show off to her. How you can hunt and climb, and all that. You’d like to do that, right?”

Cloudpaw nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” His fur itself seemed to brighten up a little. “I’ll make her proud of me.”

Fireheart tapped his side with his tail. “She already is, I can promise you that. Let’s get going.”

Not without a little reluctance, and a last glance down the road, Cloudpaw trotted after his uncle. Again, quiet, until Fireheart’s old house disappeared from view.

“So who’s my father?” Cloudpaw asked.

Some deadbeat loser who doesn’t matter, came the snippy part of Fireheart’s mind. Out loud, he said, “His name is Onion. I don’t know where he is now.” He looked back. “He looked a lot like you, actually, just grey instead of ginger. Very fluffy, too.”

Cloudpaw blinked. “Well, that’s lucky. I’ve got long fur like everyone else in ThunderClan.”

“You’re a puffball, you mean,” Fireheart teased.

Cloudpaw squawked and swatted snow at his hind legs. Fireheart’s legs leaped away of their own accord, making him pick up his pace so he didn’t trip. They both trilled and Cloudpaw sped up to walk alongside him again.

“Do you go to see Rosy?” he asked.

“Sometimes, yeah,” Fireheart replied. He sighed. “I haven’t had a chance recently. There’s been a lot going on since you came to ThunderClan.”

“You mean with the fire?” Cloudpaw tilted his head.

Fireheart paused, then nodded. “Among other things, yeah. We were…” Dealing with a lot of murder and pain, losing friends and family, hiding secrets we shouldn’t be hiding. “…really busy before you first left the nursery.”

To his partial relief, partial frustration, Cloudpaw accepted that and looked forward again. “Well, I get to be a part of that now. I like that.”

“Yeah?” Fireheart tilted his head.

“I mean, since I’m from the Houses,” Cloudpaw elaborated. “I wasn’t a warrior yet. Now I’m an apprentice, and I can be a real Clan cat.”

Fireheart looked at him fondly. “You’re already a real Clan cat. We’re not more or less worthy, we’re just worthy. That goes for everybody, not just us two.”

“Well, still,” Cloudpaw said. “I’d like to hunt and protect the Clan, and help around camp. That’s what a good warrior does.” He beamed up at Fireheart. “That’s what you do!”

Fireheart returned the beam, still feeling a little sheepish. “I just do what I can, same as everyone else. We do our best, and that’s good enough, whether or not it’s as much as the rest of the Clan.”

Cloudpaw had an odd look of relief, to Fireheart’s satisfaction and mild surprise. His fluffy tail lifted higher, its ginger tip curled, and he trotted with more purpose than before.

“Did I tell you I have a friend in the Houses, too?” Fireheart said after a pause. Cloudpaw looked up at him and he continued. “His name is Smudge. He was my first ever friend, before I moved to ThunderClan and met Ravenwing and Greystripe.”

Cloudpaw’s eyes widened. “Really? Is he big and fluffy too?”

“I mean, he’s wide, but he’s about my size.” Fireheart’s eyes creased as he thought about the patched tom. “And he’s quick-witted. You’d like him. Maybe we’ll get to see him someday, too.” Something occurred to him. “Just remember, we have to keep it to ourselves. ThunderClan doesn’t like us talking to kittypets, even if they are family.”

Cloudpaw’s face fell a little, but he nodded. “I can’t tell my sister and brother either?”

“Not yet,” Fireheart said kindly. “If we have to, we will. But I can already hear our Clanmates scolding me for taking you to see Rosy.” He jokingly shuddered. “Just imagine the look on Dustpelt’s face…”

Cloudpaw shuddered in turn. “Yeah, okay. We’ll keep it a secret.”

Fireheart gave him an affectionate nudge, and the pair continued on down the border’s path. They were quiet again, but this time it was a lot more comfortable.

[coffeeghoulie]

If you're still taking them.. 5 & 25 with Dew/Phantom

Maybe Phantoms still a newbie learning the joys of sex, and Dew?

Ghostober Day 14: Tender Sex

Much thanks to @kroas-adtam for putting Ghostober together <3

Prompt from this list: #5- "God you feel so fucking good" and #25 "Fuck—uh! I love it when you touch me like that!"

Pairing: Dew/Aeon

Dew takes good care of Aeon the first time they have sex Up Top. A continuation of this fic from Mushy May.

Explicit, 1.3k. They/them pronouns for Aeon, clit, cunt and dick used for their anatomy. He/him for Dew, and dick, cock, cunt and folds used for his anatomy. Contains first time sex, frottage/scissoring, and Dew having a soft spot for the new bug.

Divider by @ghuleh-recs <3 (also @forlorn-crows pspsps i finally wrote the smut)

Aeon hits the mattress with a soft "oof," the white bedding scratchy and cool against their bare back. Dew looms over them like this, the hotel lamp making his hair shine like burnished gold. They bite back a whine as Dew crawls over them, not wasting a second to put his skinny thigh between their legs, the scrape of denim on denim almost grating on their ears.

Dew leans in, hands on either side of Aeon's head, hair curtaining their faces. A look in his copper eyes Aeon's never seen, at least directed at them. "I'm going to take such good care of you, voidling, I promise."

Their chest heaves, swallowing hard. Dew'd cornered them after the Ritual, kissed them like he'd meant to consume them. But he had tasted Aeon's concern, a bitter, electric sting of nerves, and instantly he'd cracked, touching their cheek soft and sweet like a lover.

And maybe that's what they are now, but Aeon's a little more concerned with how their clit throbs than semantics right now. Their eyes are unable to stay in one place as they trail over Dew's body, following the trail of gold hair down from his belly button to where it disappears into the waistband of his black jeans.

"You like what you see, voidling?" Dew asks, voice teasing, but Aeon can feel the heat between his legs where he straddles their thigh. He's just as into it as they are.

"Oh, yeah," Aeon breathes, their tail thudding against the mattress as they stare up at him. The pupil in their good eye dilates, swallowing their iris until there's only a faint ring of purple. "Can we- please- touch me?" they stammer, hands suddenly finding purpose and shoving at their own waistband.

Dew laughs, not quite his usual cackle. He straightens, and Aeon mourns the loss of pressure over their crotch, but then Dew's pulling his own jeans and boxers down. The sugar sweet scent of his arousal hits Aeon like a tour bus, eyes rolling back into their skull at the thick caramel and campfire smell that clings to the roof of their mouth.

He gives them that crooked smile again, throwing his pants to the corner where their hoodies and Aeon's binder had been banished. "Voidling," Dew asks, shoving his hair out of his face. "Where'd you like me to touch you?"

"Anywhere," they say, shoving fruitlessly at their own jeans. Dew leans down and kisses the corner of their mouth, his spindly fingers finding and popping the button of their pants, making it much easier for Aeon to shove their hips off and push them down.

Dew helps them get them off the rest of the way, and then his copper gaze trails up their skinny thighs to the dark violet curls at the crux of their legs. Aeon flushes, fingers curling into the bedding. "Dew," they breathe.

They know he can smell them, the tang of blackberries and ozone, and the blush on their face grows as they stare back at Dew. That trail of gold hair leads to a groomed, wiry patch of hair, and Aeon feels their head spin as they see the peek of Dew's dick jutting out from his folds. He's already soaked, what's left of his water making itself known. "Oh, look at you, Aeon," Dew coos, not unkindly, eyes calculating. "So pretty."

Aeon can't bite back the whine that escapes their lips, turning their face to press against the cold blanket under them. There's fingers on their jaw then, turning their face back up to face him. "Voidling," Dew whispers, and if Aeon didn't know any better, they'd say his tone was reverent. "Same as before. If I do something you don't like, tell me to fuck off. Those exact words, okay?"

Aeon smiles, hit with a wave of shyness as it finally sinks in what's about to happen. "Okay," they breathe, reaching up to tuck a strand of Dew's hair behind a pointed ear.

Dew ducks down to kiss them, and they lose themself in it, Dew eventually moving down their jaw, their throat, down their sternum. Aeon moans, voice hitching as Dew finds a tender spot and sucks, giving them a nip of teeth before soothing the blooming indigo mark with the heat of his tongue.

He pulls back and cocks his head, sitting up. Dew looks like he's contemplating something, the tiniest furrow in his brow before it relaxes as he apparently comes up with an answer. His fingers wrap around Aeon's calf. "I know you're flexible, Aeon. Gimme your leg?"

Aeon isn't quite sure where Dew's going with this, but they huff a breath through their nose and let Dew sling their ankle over his shoulder. "What're you...?" Aeon trails off, worrying at a frayed hem of the comforter with their claws.

Dew's expression softens even more, leaning down to cup their cheek, swiping his thumb and avoiding the scar there. "Gonna make us feel good. Nothing fancy, but I gotta treat my voidling right for their first time, huh?"

They whine, head lolling back against the blankets as they feel their cunt drool, clit twitching at Dew's whispered promise. Their slick has to be pooling on the mattress by now, and they aren't even water. "Please, Dew, I, I need it."

"You don't gotta beg, I've got you," Dew says, straddling the leg that isn't up on his shoulder. "All you gotta do is lay back and feel good, okay?"

Aeon nods, eyes locked onto where Dew's cunt rests against theirs with bated breath. They slide together, already dripping wet. They gasp, claws puncturing the blankets as Dew bites his lip. "Lucifer, you feel so fucking good," Dew groans, giving a test roll of his hips. His cock rubs against Aeon's clit, and both ghouls yelp at the burst of pleasure.

"Oh shit," Aeon gasps, mismatched gaze meeting Dew's. "That feels- Dew, please?"

The fire ghoul laughs, grinding his hips down slowly into Aeon's. They can feel the heat of it and it's so much and not enough and- "I'll move, don't worry, voidling."

Aeon tentatively lets go of the blankets, reaching for Dew's hips as he grabs their calf, claws digging in but blunt enough not to threaten. He starts to properly fuck them, so slick it's easy to grind their cunts together. Aeon prays that the hotel walls are at least somewhat soundproof the way the friction draws a cry from their lips.

"That's it," Dew croons, eyes darting up to their face before trailing back down to where their bodies are pressed together. "So good, such a good boy, letting me do this for you."

Aeon loses themself in the sensation, so much more intense than when they'd slip their hand down the front of their pants behind a locked door back at the Abbey. They try to grind their hips back against Dew's. Give at least a little effort for a counter-rhythm.

They moan sharply, mismatched eyes rolling back into their skull as Dew does some slick motion of his hips, their dicks rubbing together in a way that nearly makes Aeon yowl. "Aw, voidling, baby, look. They're kissing."

Aeon feels like they're falling, even with their back pressed firm to the hotel bed. Their hands scrabble against Dew's hips, thin skin over sharp bone. Dew laughs, not unkindly, as he keeps pressing their cunts together. "How's it feel?"

They can't get a breath in, every nerve in their body overwhelmed and short circuited with pleasure. Aeon tries to pant, narrow chest heaving. "So good, fuck—uh! I love it when you touch me like that!"

Dew grins crookedly, leaning down to press a kiss to the corner of their mouth, still so surprisingly tender. Aeon gasps as their knee is suddenly up by their chest, their hamstring stretched.

"That's good, voidling," he whispers, brushing sweaty hair off their forehead, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips. "Then I'll keep touching you just. Like. This."

Aeon's cry echoes through the hotel room.

[is-the-snake-video-cute]

I’ve got so many more snake and snake related questions and so I’m just gonna give them in a big list:

I thought that your “animal bones” tag said “snake bones” and now I’m fascinated by that idea as a tag and generally snake skeleton stuff. This isn’t a question I suppose.

Is the number of vertebra of a snake (minus the tail vertebra) comparable in amount to human vertebra?

Are snake scales and snake skin made out of the same stuff human skin and nails and hair are made of (keratin and collagen and the like)?

Are any snakes physically capable of chewing or generally eating something not-whole? Do any of them chew?

To your knowledge, was the creation of syringe needles inspired in any way by snake fangs?

How do scientists milk venom, physically? How much can you take from a snake in one go without harming it? How often?

What are your “smartest” and “dumbest” snakes, if such a thing can be quantified?

Thank you for the snake fact answers. I could just look it up but SEO is a bitch and I like asking people questions about things they’re passionate about.

Great questions!!

Snake bones are so cool. I love looking at viper skeletons especially.

2. Nope! People have like 24 vertebrae, with snakes it depends on species length but snakes have between 100-600. Snake tails are actually pretty short when compared to their torsos (look at the skeleton image below, the tail starts where the ribs end); tails have as few as 10 and as many as a couple hundred vertebrae. Those numbers sound very variable, and that's because snakes just vary so wildly in size and shape!

3. Yes! The same materials make up snake skin and scales as make up human skin and nails. Same stuff, different blueprint! :)

4. Snakes are built very specifically to swallow whole prey, and there are no real exceptions to this. No snake can chew. Some snakes, like snail-eaters, have specialized teeth and jaws designed to "scoop" snails out of their shells so sometimes they don't get it all in one go, but even they are built to try and get as much out at once as possible.

5. Not to my knowledge, I think it's a matter of convergent evolution! :) Hollow needles are just really good at getting stuff into other stuff.

6. When we do venom extractions from snakes, we usually just have them bite a funnel and what they give us is what they give us. If a certain venom is in very high demand, then sometimes we'll express the venom glands while the snake is biting down. That involves gently squeezing the glands to ensure a good amount of venom is released in the bite. It looks rough but I promise it's not, the hold is as gentle as possible and the snakes are not hurt in the process! You gently hold the snake's neck to keep them restrained and keep everyone safe (if you lightly squeeze your wrist just hard enough to manually tilt your hand, it's about that much pressure) and you use your fingers on the opposite hand to express the glands.

We might get 1/10 a teaspoon from each snake per extraction, it's genuinely just a few drops. It takes multiple snakes to get enough to do anything with. At my lab we extract from each snake about once every other week; they need time to relax in between! Venom isn't necessary to remain healthy for lab snakes, but we don't want to stress them.

7. In general, elapids (cobras and their relatives) are the smartest snakes I've ever worked with! King cobras absolutely take the award here, they're so intelligent and curious and just a treat to interact with. Our old boy at my lab, Puppy, can put himself in his handling tube and is always such a show-off for tours. One of my favorite snakes at the lab is an Egyptian cobra named Seth, he's so much fun and loves figuring out the food puzzles and mazes I set up for him!

As for dumbest...I've said it before and I'll say it again, but hognoses are just absolutely zero thoughts animals.

[chu-diaries]

140 days of productivity: day 11/140

I had an unusual morning: I went birdwatching for the first time! I woke up very early and joined the group at sunrise. I had never used binoculars before and found it difficult to use them because I wear glasses, but everything worked out in the end.

I was able to see in detail species that I like since I was a kid, such as the great kiskadee, the Brazilian ovenbird, the bananaquit, the Chalk-browed Mockingbird, the rufous-bellied thrush, the scissor-tailed hummingbird, the swallow, the vulture and the crested caracara, and I finally learned the names of birds that I had only known by sight, such as the eared dove, the masked water-tyrant, the blue Dacnis, the golden-crowned warbler and the creamy-bellied thrush. I also saw marmosets, although they were not the focus of the tour.

When I got home there was little to do - I organized a few things, prepared lunch, took a shower and went to a beautiful Yoruba rite called Obalujé, dedicated to the orisha of healing and health Obaluayê. Oba means “the king”, lu means “the lord” and ayê means “the ground” — therefore, he’s the lord of the earth. We danced together and sang beautiful songs to him and we ate his favorite foods. It was amazing to be part of that.

🩸: day 4/29

💧: probably less than 1 L

🏋🏻‍♀️: 🚫

🏃🏻‍♀️: 13.425 steps

🕯️: 🚫

🪘: joined a Yoruba rite called obalujé (6 h)

🇰🇷: 🚫

🎧: 🚫

📺: one piece ep. 541-544

📚: 🚫

🛑: 18 days pick free

💊: vitamin c, omega 3 and iron supplements

[babyhedonistt]

TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH - TEN

WARNING // Some themes in this chapter may not be suitable for all audiences, viewer discretion is advised

Nick stares at Noah like he was a dog with his tail between his legs. He had been caught, but Noah was not quite sure he feels guilty about what he did.

Because he didn’t.

“How long have you known?” Noah asked him.

“Known what?” He sighs, throwing his hands up.

“How long you have had your eyes on her or how long you two have been sneaking around?”

“Either at this point Nick. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“No. I am acting like myself. It’s just the first time you’ve actually pulled your head out of your ass to actually see it. Ever since you started hanging out with her again, you haven’t bothered to pay attention to the rest of us. Your band. Your brothers.”

“That doesn’t give you a right to separate us. You’re not her older brother and you’re not my Dad. I thought if I were to get involved with anyone, you’d be happy it was her.” Noah scoffed.

“It’s not that I’m unhappy Noah. I just don’t like how even though she’s higher on your priority list, you still don’t treat her like it.”

Ouch.

That hurt more because Noah knew he was right.

“I’ve never been in a serious relationship before.” Noah admits. “So you think it gives you free range to pick Folios sister of all people to fuck around with.”

“I didn’t fuck her.”

“Doesn’t mean you weren’t planning on it.” Nick shot back. Noah swallowed the dryness in his throat.

“I’m sorry. About the NDA. Truly, but I figured it would be the easiest option to suggest to Matt to get through our tour. And then Folio got hurt…… she took the position. Shit just got messy… Noah I really wanted you two to be together, but I didn’t want it to fuck the band up to a point the fans would start noticing. How would that look?”

Nick wasn’t wrong. In fact, Nick is never wrong, factually, at least. Morally on the other hand, he had to have been the worst offender next to Noah.

The room filled with silence, the two of them soaking in each others words before Noah finally broke the silence. “I haven’t been putting this band first. I thought I was doing that when I finished the rest of the album, I guess it wasn’t enough.” He sighs

“Noah, you’re the lead singer dude. You already carry so much responsibility and I don’t think we cut you enough slack. But, a girl can’t just come in and fuck that shit up when we have stuff we need to get done.”

“She’s different Nick. I feel like there’s a fire inside of me when I’m around her.”

“And if you don’t contain it you’re going to get burnt. You haven’t even told Folio how you feel about her. He’s one of your best friends and he’s in the dark. “

“I know..” Noah sighs.

Nick walks over and slaps Noah on the back comfortingly. “Jolly’s known for a bit too dude. Expecting him to keep that secret? A lot on him too.”

Noah’s realization of his stupid actions finally caught up with him as be planted his face in his hands. “ I’m sorry, Nick.”

Nick pulled Noah up from the seat and embraced his friend in a tight hug. “I’m sorry I fairly kicked your ass.” He jokes and a light laugh escaped Noah’s lips. “I let you win mother fucker.” He slaps his back lightly.

“Cmon dude. We have a show to do. It’s our last one.” Nick smiles before the door to the dressing room opens and Jolly peaks his head in. “You guys coming?”

The two nodded as the three of them met you backstage. You felt Noah’s large hands grasp each side of your hips, his front against your back, and warmth spread across your cheeks before you rest the back of your head on his chest. “Everything good?” You asked, looking down at his tattooed hands. You hear him sigh in your ear before clearing his throat. “Yeah. It will be.” He says before the lights dimmed in the pit of the audience.

The crowd went insane. You were used to being in front of the large fan base that Bad Omens had. Something about Noah's hands being secured on your hips, almost reassured that he was right about everything being okay.

Granted, given everything that has happened already, you weren't sure it was capable of getting worse.

The beginning of the show went as expected. You performed the usual set list. The crowd seemed to be higher in energy today, perhaps due to the fact that it was the last show of the tour.

The crowd eventually settled through the show; the energy seemed more positive compared to how you left the boys. Nick and Noah actually made eye contact and it didn't look like they wanted to kill each other.

You thought everything was going well, until Noah began talking to the crowd between songs.

You could see him at the front of the stage, holding the microphone in front of his mouth while his sweat-dosed hair hung over his eyes. The makeup covered his bruises well, if anything it added to his on stage persona. The more you watch Noah perform, the more you could see the differences between the real Noah and the person he makes himself into for the sake of his fans.

"So. How many of you know a song called ' Just Pretend '? "

The crowd went expectedly loud with an uproar. Noah held the microphone with both of his hands as he quickly looked back at you at the top of the stage behind the drum set. You sent a half smile down to him, and it seemed as if you gave him the confidence he needed.

He turned his attention back to the crowd before he continued. "For the second half of this tour, our drummer Folio had an unfortunate accident which handicapped him temporarily from performing on stage with us."

The crowd was awed as Jolly and Nick bobbed their head. "But. In Folio's absence, our band was saved by a talented drummer who is fortunately here to fill in for her brother while he heals."

You felt your heart in your throat and the air felt almost too thick to breathe through your nose. What the hell was he doing? The feeling seemed to be mutual between the four of you because Jolly and Nick turned their heads up to you, their eyes looking at you for some form of answer as to why Noah was doing what he was doing. Unfortunately you weren't much help for them.

"Her name is Y/N. She's one of the closest people in my life, and one of the biggest inspirations for many of the songs this band sings. Including this one, Just Pretend."

Authors Note: Hope you enjoyed this chapter <3 Lots of love, as always.

@Flowery-mess

@Lizzyanthony3

@Darkmxgician

@Blackveilomens

@Jilliemiw86

@Skulliecadaver-blog

@Starvingarsyn

@Laurpartyprogram

@badomensls

@Lma1986

@sammyjoeee

[moony-ghoul]

moony zoomy can i pwease have your thots abt swissphantom they mean sm to meee <3

lately i’ve been thinking about ant getting sick for the first time topside and while on tour and just how miserable they’d feel and how swiss would instantly be in mama mode

emetophobia warning below the cut

ant wakes up feeling gross, everything hurts and they’d do anything to crawl back into their bunk and cry out all the pain

they drag themself through the day much quieter than usual, trying to hide their wince at every movement. the ritual is hell and it takes everything in them to not collapse on stage into a messy sobbing ball of ghoul, their joints scream at them, their skin prickling with sweat under the heavy stage lights despite how cold they feel

swiss’ hand finds their back once they make it off stage, ant tries to not flinch away from the contact to their already hypersensitive self

“just gotta make it to the hotel, bug” swiss whispers into their hair, planting a kiss along with his words

they give a small nod in response, brain too exhausted to find any words

ant sticks themself to swiss’ side throughout the car ride, headphones on, hoodie pulled tight in an attempt to block out as much noise as possible. swiss wraps an arm around them as they curl into his chest

the second their hotel door shuts behind them ant lets their glamour drop with an exhausted sigh, tail immediately wrapping around their own leg

a wave of nausea rolls over them and they make a b line to the bathroom

they’re vaguely aware of swiss behind them as they collapse in front of the toilet, gaging loudly and painfully as the contents of their stomach come back up. they’re not sure how long they spend in front of the toilet, swiss feels his heart break with each defeated whimper and cry that comes out of ant

“im dying” they whine, stomach cramping again as the seemingly never ending foul bile fills their mouth again

“oh baby” swiss rubs small circles onto their back, “it’ll be over soon, we’ll get you cleaned up and we can have a sleep. you’re being so strong, bug”

ant doesn’t feel strong as they let out yet another sob, too tired to fight their body to keep their sounds to themself

at some point swiss gets up and grabs a wet wash cloth to cool the back of ants neck, it helps, their entire body is on fire. by the time their stomach settles they feel disgusting, face wet with tears, body covered in a layer of sticky sweat and a gross taste residing in their mouth

swiss places a kiss on their shoulder, they’re sure they look as bad as they feel but when they meet swiss’ eye hes still smiling at them like they’re the most beautiful creature on earth

“you ready to get cleaned up?”

ant nods weakly

“okay do you want me to help or you think you can do it on your own?���

they don’t give a verbal response but their tail wraps around swiss’ forearm and that’s as much as he needs to help the small ghoul to their feet

there’s so much love in swiss’ actions that ant feels like they’re being swallowed with it. he holds their face gently to brush their teeth, he scratches lightly at their scalp as he’s washing their hair, gives them a slight squeeze as he’s drying them off

swiss dresses them in all his own clothes, grey boxers and an old souvenir aquarium shirt from a date with rainy many years ago, they’re both well worn and hang loosely off of ants much smaller frame but they’re soft and smell like swiss so they have no complaints

ant curls around swiss once they’re in bed, resting their head on chest, the spade of their tail slips between their lips and they nibble on the thick skin. swiss wraps an arm around their waist and carefully massages their still aching stomach

swiss loads up a movie for some white noise, ants brain is too foggy to figure out what it is. they’re engulfed in swiss’ scent as sleep slowly starts to drift then away

he smells like coffee and woodsmoke

he smells warm and strong

he smells like home

[gugugyuu]

dog sitter part one ˖*:･༄ 👜🦮

The doorbell rang multiple times, each chime more irritating than the last. "Geez," you muttered, raking a hand through your hair in frustration as you hurriedly packed your things for work. "Coming!" you called out, your annoyance barely masked. Swinging open the door, you were met with an unexpected sight: a tall, strikingly handsome man standing just outside. "Good morning," you said, forcing a smile that quickly turned genuine. "Can I help you?"

He glanced down at his phone, seeming a little flustered. "Oh, um, are you...," he hesitated, then looked back up, "y/n?"

You nodded, just as your dog barked excitedly, shoving his way forward to greet the newcomer.

"And you must be Sammy," he said, grinning as he crouched down to pet him. Sammy immediately rolled onto his back, asking for belly scratches.

"Beomgyu, by the way," he introduced himself with a chuckle, still giving Sammy attention. "I'll be taking care of this little guy."

You stepped aside. "Please," gesturing for him to come in. "Make yourself at home."

A few days ago, you'd been drowning in work, barely finding time for yourself, let alone making sure Sammy was properly walked or fed on time. Guilt gnawed at you every time you saw him waiting by the door, hopeful for attention you couldn't give. You even considered sending him to your parents, but they were even busier than you, barely having any time for you when you were younger, let alone now.

You mentioned your dilemma to a friend, and somehow that led to Beomgyu standing in your living room today. He was a friend of a friend of a friend, and when he messaged you offering help, it wasn't because he needed the money. He'd just graduated, like you, and was looking for something to do during his break.

You knew a bit about him beforehand. He'd sent over all the necessary details: a picture of his ID, his mom's name and contact info, even some of his educational and personal background.

You had expected him to be good-looking based on his photo, but you hadn't anticipated just how handsome he'd be in person. As you gave him a tour of the house, explaining how the locks worked and handing over a spare key, you couldn't help but joke, "You're not planning on robbing me, are you?"

He laughed easily. "No, no. I promise I wouldn't even think of it."

You smiled, grabbing your bag and bending down to kiss Sammy goodbye.

Beomgyu stood by, his presence oddly comforting. "Thank you," he said sincerely. "I feel really welcome and don't worry, I'll take good care of Sammy", he smiled. "You take care of yourself."

You shot him a grateful look and mouthed, "Thanks," before heading out the door and into your car.

A few months passed, and everything seemed perfect.

Your schedule and Beomgyu's synced up effortlessly, your days off became his too. You always made sure to get home on time so he could leave, though sometimes you'd ask if he could stay a few extra hours and when he agreed, you'd throw in a little bonus.

Beomgyu sometimes even bought Sammy toys and snacks. Despite your offers to repay him, he insisted it's his treat. You always leave the house clean, so he makes sure to leave it spotless as well.

One evening, you walked into your house, the darkness swallowing you whole. Sammy's familiar footsteps padded toward you, his tail wagging in excitement.

You reached for the light switch, but before you could flip it on, you and Beomgyu both screamed, startled by each other in the dim room.

Sammy barked, caught in the middle of the chaos, but within seconds, the two of you were laughing, realizing how silly it was. Your days coming home from worked was filled with moments like these; simple and easy.

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