#What Are The Ways To Cure Pr

[poptartmochi]

hm.. closing thoughts. bennie deserved better 😔

[yanderenightmare]

TW: nsfw, noncon, emotionally distant yandere, death threats

gn reader

Thinking about an extremely aromantic psychopathic yandere who’s completely out of touch with his feelings...

From the moment you infected his mind, he desperately wanted nothing more but to gauge you out and bleach your existence away.

He was ready to do anything.

It's not like it's something he hasn't done before. It shouldn't have been a problem. But standing there above your sleeping form with the knife to your unsuspecting neck, he felt his own throat close up.

Something he'd never felt before made him stop – something in his chest that ached worse than any pain he'd ever beared – something that made his hands shake with cold and his eyes leak warmth down his face.

He doesn't understand what's going on, and it's annoying. You're annoying. He doesn't want to see your face, but at the same time... the thought of going without it pisses him off even more.

He doesn't want to keep you around, but he ends up feeling as though he has to. He tells himself it's only until he feels ready to finish you off – like a lamb raised for slaughter in the wolf's den.

You don’t really know what goes on inside his head when he glares at you with hints of vexation and hunger – eyes narrowed at you almost in disgust, as though you’re some sort of nuisance, some sort of sickness he can’t seem to shake – but also something else – something hungry – something in the way he locks his jaw and swallows thickly before growling out an irate sigh as he throws his shirt off and climbs on top of you.

It seems almost as though he sees it all as a simple means to an end – as though the urge arising within his gut is a plague he needs to cure as quickly as possible – and you as a mere tool for him to do exactly that.

He never kisses you. You don’t think he knows how. The sex isn’t any good either – all cold, methodical movements as though he’s a robot who’s been told to complete a task it wasn’t programmed to do. 

It’s obvious he doesn’t view you as much more than something he owns. 

Sometimes, he’ll even look surprised when you voice wishes and needs of your own – as though he’s forgotten that you’re still a living, breathing thing and not just something he’s hunted and killed and stuffed for sport.

But that’s how you feel most days anyway – like a dog’s humping toy – just a limp thing made up of cotton and torn fabric trying to hold itself together, getting more frayed by each passing day.

It's surprising he hasn't killed you yet. He told you he would when the time was right, but it's been more than a while now. You wonder if it's a surprise for him as well.

Probably not...

He’s like a machine. Wordless, sept for the steady string of growls and groans as he fucks you fast like you’re this annoying reminder that he’ll never be able to get rid of the warmth in his gut forcing him to complete the tedious task again and again and never be done with it.

It almost feels as though he hates you.

While his hand holds yours down, cuffing your wrists above your head with the other wrapped tight around your throat. Not because you bother fighting back. But – you think, perhaps… he feels as though it’s your fault somehow – your fault that he feels this way. 

He’ll mutter about it sometimes – that he was just fine before you came along – level-headed, composed, perfect before he met you. 

He pulls out just before cumming inside you, tugging himself in quick faps, then blows all over your stomach and chest. 

The sigh he breathes out is like an exclamation of “fucking finally” while his throbbing length bobs, still seeping pearls of cum, slowly calming down the more he squeezes it all out into a white pool on your pelvis. 

He isn’t much better after, either. 

Loosening his grip on you, he’ll grunt out something along the lines of “Go clean yourself up.” 

But sometimes... as time goes on... he starts doing something that somewhat resembles a kiss before leaving you.

It's awkward, like a brush or press of his stiff lips against yours – one of which reminds you of the type of nudge a dog could be trained to do in exchange for a treat – almost like a thank you.

He hasn't spoken about killing you in a while...

It scares you – how it's become so trivial it almost feels marital...

You don't know what scares you more though...

The thought that he's going to kill you one of these days, or the thought that he's forgotten about it all together.

BNHA – Bakugou, Overhaul, Shigaraki

JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Toji, Kenjaku

DS – Muzan, Sanemi

HxH – Illumi, Feitan

AOT - Levi

[artbyblastweave]

The Quintessential superhero setting doesn't change much. Regardless of how long it runs, how many fantastic elements are introduced, the shape of the world never bends too far from what's recognizable. Worm and The Venture Brothers are total opposites in how they approach this genre convention.

In Worm this idea of the classic comic book status quo is quickly revealed to be a lie, and a tenuous one; the capes are killing the world by inches, and any sense of normalcy or stability, any gesture in the direction that the superhuman community effectively self-polices or can be held accountable, is cooked up as a PR bandaid over the fact that total collapse is pretty clearly fast approaching from some direction, sometime soon. Small towns keep getting wiped out because someone had a bad day. The economy is collapsing. Superpowered Warlords are springing up in the cracks. This has been happening for thirty years- twice as long as either Marvel or DC's internal timeline's run- and, at story-start, it can't last much longer. Venture Brothers takes the opposite tack. The world changes without changing. Jonas Venture certainly isn't around anymore; the paradigm of the show's present isn't the same as when the setting hewed closer to the GI Joe Idiom in the 1980s or the gentleman adventurer idiom in the 1800s. Capes come and go, the membership of the Council of 13 slides around. But the NBA trades people around too, and we elect a new guy president every four years. The fantastic has been so totally subsumed by the mundane. No flying cars, no cures for cancer, no space station, no teleportation. No bold move towards a new status quo, good or bad, that doesn't fizzle out into something weak and quixotic. The series ends with the Venture Family skyscraper nearly being dropped on Manhattan before being gently set down right back where the series started. Lucy with the football, again and again. Go directly to hell if you were ever dumb enough to think these people in costumes were every really going to change anything. That tension, the aching implausibility of all of this somehow having amounted to nothing in the end- not even something uniquely bad- powers the entire show. The world is unchanging as the first principle, and all that's left is to find a way to scrape out some personal meaning living under the shadow of that truth.

[shibaraki]

THREE’S A CROWD ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, coworkers/friends to lovers, mutual pining, pro hero shouto, fluff + silliness, a very jealous shouto, PR agent reader, social media, workplace romance, first kisses, getting together

wc: 3k

As he grows older Shouto sometimes regrets picking his given name for heroics.

Call it adolescent laziness, but when he was a teenager it felt like rebellion; carelessly giving away that part of himself just to hear how different it sounded in other people's mouths. If repeated enough he thought the tragic lacquer might chip away piece by piece until his name was anew and no longer an echo of his fathers voice.

But now his bones ache and his work follows him absolutely everywhere. The hours he spends at the agency and at home bleed together, diluted into a single muddied memory. Officially adopting the moniker ‘Icyhot’ has never been so tempting. It would be nice to actually have skin to shed.

These instances of regret are infrequent, though. It may be jarring to have strangers call out to him so casually but he counts it as adequate payoff for his name making a home in your mouth. Who knew a sound could feel like an embrace?

“Shouto!”

When it’s you, hearing his name can only be a good thing. Usually.

He’s helpless to the small smile pulling at his lips as your contagious enthusiasm filters into the otherwise dim room like sunlight. You appear in the doorway to his office, remaining half hidden behind the frame, arms held behind your back and wearing an excited grin of your own.

Having you on the PR team has done wonders for his image, apparently. Employees loved throwing around puns about his cold demeanor being ‘thawed’. Shouto was never intentionally aloof, but he was perceived that way all the same.

When you don’t immediately flounce into his office to bother him he grows suspicious. “What is it?”

Shifting your weight between each foot restlessly, his eyes fall to the soft bottom lip caught between your teeth. You inhale deeply as if bracing for impact before stepping forward, bringing your arms out from behind your back.

And now cradled against your front is… him?

The plushie is atrocious. Two large desolate eyes stare back at him from beneath a bi-coloured felt fringe. Not only is it wearing a tiny version of the UA uniform, there is a pair of pointed cat ears on top of its head—one white and one red. Atleast the scar is on the correct side.

Amidst his judgment you have closed the distance, standing in front of his desk, squeezing the thing tight to your stomach. Shouto swallows down his immediate displeasure and feels ridiculous for it.

Voice tempered, he prompts, “A plush toy?”

Your shoulders relax, thumb rubbing back and forth over the soft fabric in slow, idle motions, “Yes—well, he’s actually a knock off. Technically I shouldn’t have bought it, but I couldn’t resist!”

“It’s ugly”.

“Don’t say that! Just look at him,” brought to your face, squashed up against your cheek, the toy seems to mock him. You laugh warmly, “Isn’t he cute? His head is so big”.

Shouto quickly delegates his attention to the report on his computer screen and begins to highlight random words to distract from the urge to pout. There’s a twisted petulance bubbling in his chest, at odds with the pitter patter of his heart. Ugly as it was, the plush still had his likeness, and you’d called it cute.

“What exactly did you buy it for?”

You shy away from the question slightly with a sudden air of embarrassment, gaze flickering toward his tall office windows to avoid his eyes.

“Well I…” there’s the quiet clearing of your throat, and then stronger, “I thought he would be a fun mascot for the agency. Your supporters would love seeing him in the background of your posts. It might be fun!”

Shouto was no stranger to social media. While he preferred to leave it up to your team and his manager it was a good occasional cure for boredom. Though the concept of having fans is still somewhat foreign to him, his supporters are amusing and vocal in their love; your suggestion is innocent compared to some of the things they’ve sent him. But he can’t disagree—they would have a field day.

There is a pregnant pause before he speaks and it sets you on edge. A pout to your lips, fingers guided to the small UA tie around his counterpart's neck, fiddling with the knot. You’re still avoiding his gaze, giving ample opportunity for him to glare at the toy, who only stares back with empty eyes.

“If Abe-san gives it the okay then I don’t see any harm in it,” he says. Your disposition sparks back to life, hiding your pleased smile behind the oversized head. Football shaped, he thinks blithely. He wants to kick it across Tokyo. And then he wants you to cradle his face instead.

“Thank you Shouto,” you murmur. Unable to see your mouth, the smile is still bright in your eyes. Steeped in honey-thick affection, Shouto resigns himself to fate. Saying no to you was never his strong suit.

He can only hope it’ll be a passing fad.

Those hopes are immediately quashed the following morning. His personal phone pings with a group chat notification on his way to work. Kaminari has sent a link to a twitter poll, along with a series of laughing emojis. Listed are various cat related versions of his name, each battling for the most votes.

Todoneko. Todopurrki. Shoucat? He huffs a quiet laugh. Nekoroki and Catoroki seemed neck and neck, barely a few percentages apart.

Notifications continue to flood in at the top of his screen. He ignores them in favour of clicking onto the profile. Sitting smug in the account’s picture is the plush of him. The image is a close up, taken from below, a purposefully unflattering angle to show the feline ears on it’s head.

It’s clear the page is new. Created today, if he had to guess. The bio reads: ‘employee of the month at Frostfire Agency’ and not much else. There is only one post— a picture taken today in a very familiar place.

??? VOTE ❘ @PawAndOrder : 33 minutes ago

[IMAGE ID: Pro Hero Dynamight angrily baring his teeth at the camera, skin flushed pink and hair pressed damp to his forehead. The Todoroki plush stands precariously on one of many benches in the agency gym behind him, a trademarked red and blue Shouto sweatband stretched over it’s head, school blazer discarded by the weights].

1K replies ❍ 12K likes

Shouto snorts and presses the like button. A cute burst of confetti flits around the heart symbol as he imagines you surreptitiously trying to set up the thing behind a volatile pre-workout Bakugo without being chased out of the gym.

He decides against replying. Abe-san has yet to tell him about it and he’d rather not incur his managers wrath so early in the day.

The agency is abuzz upon his arrival. Not outwardly, though. A hushed cacophony of tittering and whispers. The sidekicks greet him as usual as he walks through the main control room towards his office, poorly feigning normalcy. It’s as though the entire agency has gathered; an acting audience to whatever stunt awaits him.

Shouto refuses the urge to bristle. Memories of not quite grasping the interactions around him in those earlier years can sometimes unearth feelings of defensiveness. They mean well. Most people do.

Finding the source of their collective amusement comes sooner rather than later. You haven’t noticed him yet, the roles now reversed. Shouto stands in the doorway, having stepped back to silently watch you work while your guard is down. You’re crouched by his office chair, tongue tucked into the corner of your mouth in concentration, adjusting something currently obstructed from view by his desk.

Shouto never truly learned his own personal touch—he always fell back on tradition. Those habits are reflected around you. The space hadn’t changed much since his predecessor retired; not until you came along. You have the uncanny ability to imbue life wherever you go. Now there were fresh flowers to be replaced every other week. What was once a display case for awards to collect dust in now held digital picture frames. Things nobody would think twice about. There’s even a napkin folded into the shape of a swan that he stole from a gala the night he won the Hero Trailblazer award.

“This is supposed to be your home away from home,” you told him. “You work hard, Shouto! Harder than anyone I know. Allow yourself a little comfort. This place is too…?”

And then you had made a broad, vague gesture with your hands, struggling to find the words, hoping he would fill in the blanks. That was the first time you made Shouto laugh, and the initial push that tipped his heart over the crest, starting an inexorable roll into the unknown. He has yet to find out if you’d be waiting at the bottom.

Your satisfied hum breaks the delicate quiet. The sound makes him smile. Trinkets aside, a room was brighter with you in it.

Lifting his hand, his knuckles rap gently against his open door. You startle, reflexively ducking forward to hide, then peering over the top of his desk. Your eyes meet and he lifts a brow.

“What are you doing?”

Four strides, maybe three. That is all the distance between you and him. Shouto wants to reach down and kiss away that false wide eyed innocence. Part of him wondered if you were aware of it—the profound cord you struck within him. Your fingers always seemed to find it.

“Nothing,” you rise to your feet with phone in hand, you brush off the non existent dirt from your knees and straighten the creases in your shirt. Noticing his deadpan stare, you breathlessly insist, “I wasn’t doing anything weird—this is for work!”

Shouto ducks his chin as he snorts, outgrown bangs slipping forward from behind his ears over his eyes; at an awkward length that never seems to do as he tells it to. “I’m not sure that’s entirely…” he moves to the centre of the room, voice losing strength when he sees his chair. “…True”

Todoroki Shouto doesn’t pout.

“See?” you cross your arms over your chest, looking gratified with his hesitance. “Catoroki is work related. I took a photo for his next post”.

The ugly plush toy is sitting in his seat. Gone is the sweatband and the UA uniform. In the short time between last night and now, you’ve managed to find a doll sized version of his hero costume. You’ve sat it upright on a small cushion facing his computer and placed a pen and an empty pad of paper in it’s lap to make it look as though it is working.

Upon closer inspection, he realises that you’ve even thought to include tiny versions of the first aid equipment hung on his belt.

“Catoroki?” he repeats.

Nodding, you bend to pat it between the ears. “That or ‘Nekoroki’. We aren’t sure which name will win yet. Did you see the poll?”

“My phone hasn’t stopped vibrating since I got here,” Shouto answers, stuck on the gentle stroke of your hand to Catoroki’s grotesque head.

“Oh shit, sorry. Should’ve called before I posted it. I forgot you don’t read your emails in the morning,” you puff up your cheeks apologetically. It’s sweet when you’re sheepish. The pull is a little too strong and he finds himself on the other side of his desk, close enough to poke the swell. Air pushes through puckered lips as it deflates.

“Doesn’t matter,” unable to resist, he subtly activates his ice, breathing a chill into the air, coaxing you into his warm touch for a minute longer than is appropriate. “You were right though. People seemed to like it”.

“Do you?”

“Hm?”

Shouto frowns when you turn away to pick the plush up from his chair. The beady eyes laugh at him from the comfortable spot on your chest. You hold it to him as if it were a baby, asking with playful cadence, “Do you like him?”

Like him?

His nose wrinkles. You don’t seem to appreciate that Shouto is a restrained person. If he weren’t, that plush would have been acquainted with the Earth’s atmosphere the very first time you kissed its ugly velveteen hair.

What is he supposed to say here—‘I don’t like him. Apparently I’m jealous of a stuffed toy’?

He drags his discontentment from Catoroki back to your face and feels his heart seize. The corners of your mouth are slightly downturned, plush bottom lip held between teeth, laughter gleaming in your eyes. Your expression is indelibly fond.

Your finger pokes at his chest, firm and accusing. It restarts his heart, which only seems to quicken. “I knew it”.

Playing dumb is a skill Shouto has refined since early adolescence—

He blinks and intones monotonously, “Knew what?”

—but this is you; who sees through every facade and hears every note. You know him better than most, more than you realise. With you he feels gossamer thin, light like a hollow marrowed bird. It’s equal parts frightening and comforting.

So when you grin at him and say, “You’re jealous of Catoroki, aren’t you?” the panic dwindles into gentle sea foam hemming his ribs.

Heat crawls up his neck and into his cheeks, the innate prickling of his quirk rising to the surface as his emotions swell. “No,” he lies, unconvincingly. It’s about the principle of it.

“Ah,” you walk your fingers up his sternum with a disappointed hum. “That’s too bad then”.

You have never touched him this casually before, with such intent. The air around you distorts. Shouto exhales a breath of steam and spine tingling laughter spills from your lips. Drawn to the sound, his movement pushes you back against his desk, and you lean on the edge with your legs parted to allow him closer. His eyes are wide, he’s sure. Caught between awe and disbelief, his hand resting on your hip like a bird on a wire, ready to flee if need.

“Shouto. Please,” you murmur, and it feels incipient. It feels like you’re at the bottom of a steep drop waiting to catch him. Your nose bumps his cheek, nuzzling at the old scar tissue there, breathing in each other in a moment of eager suspension.

He swallows. “Was that a ‘hurry up, please’ or a ‘go away, please’?”

A warm breath of laughter ghosts his lips. And for all his dithering, you are the one to kiss him. Cautious at first. He can taste your toothpaste, and it reminds him that the day has barely started. He presses firmer. Closer. Smooths over your waist as your fingers thread into the hair at his nape, enamoured by how soft you feel. Shouto shivers, dissolves like spun sugar, parting the seam of his lips to gently lick into your mouth, kept tethered by the too-corporeal cotton lump lodged between your bodies.

“I lied,” he rasps desperately as you pull away all too soon, like he hoped admitting it would bring you back. You meet his eyes, pupils dilating in the yawning sunlight as it stretches across his office. “I was jealous”.

“Yeah, I know,” you kiss his lips again, once, with some finality; it’s all teeth, both of you unable to keep from smiling.

“You were obvious”.

Catoroki <;ΦωΦ>! ❘ @PawAndOrder : 1 minute ago

[IMAGE ID: Pro Hero Deku holding the Todoroki plush, staring at it tearfully with a beaming grin. Beside him is Pro Hero Ingenium, who is squinting thoughtfully at the plush toy with his helmet held under his arm. Sitting petulantly in the back is Pro Hero Shouto, hunched over a bowl of cold soba and pouting].

2.5K replies ❍ 67K likes

[xcherryerim]

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[goldsbitch]

Right? p4

summary: Y/N is a photographer for McLaren F1 team. Hard working, goal oriented professional who would never put her career in jeopardy for some stupid crush, right?

That is until a photoshoot gets out of hand and there is no way to go but forward.

part 1, part 2, part 3

warning: 18+ i guess?

It was a bit tricky to find a safe moment of solitude for the two of you to have your promised photoshoot. But in two days, your plans might finally become true.

What seemed easier, surprisingly, was finding little moments for quick make out sessions. In the driver's room, in the PR office, in that little hallway just next the mechanics gear storage.

You were a bit more careful outside the garage, but could not help one little kiss between the trailers.

It wasn't like Lando was shy at the beginning, but the more you got into the, the cheekier he became. He was so touchy. Grabbing your boobs and ass during make outs, brushing your hand when he walked by you and getting a little too close when discussing his photos.

You must have missed it before, or the frequency of him putting his hand on your shoulders has skyrocketed in the past few days.

You loved how you got to know him more. Learning the secret tricks that worked on your little, minor, definitely not massive, crush.

Zak Brown has requested a general meeting of the whole crew once you all landed in the next location. A tiny part of you suddenly got worried it might concern your little endeavor. Keeping this under the radar was of utmost importance, no matter what Lando said. You hoped you could trust him and his confidentiality. It felt strange to depend on that, but the adrenaline rush was hard to resist. The meeting turned out to be the introduction of a new sponsor and the obligation that this entailed. You had never been more happier for a new sponsor.

-"I might have one request for our photoshoot," was a text from Lando that popped up on your laptop screen. He was sitting on the other side of the room, at the front with all the important folks, while you were in the back right next to your other colleagues making notes. You looked at Lando, who was already watching you. Once your eyes met, he turned to his phone again. Having a feeling this might be one of his inappropriate games, you quickly disabled all notifications on your laptop. Instead you took your phone out, hoping no one was paying any attention to you.

-"Can you move just little to your left?" he continued. You gave him a questioning look and did as he asked.

-"Great, thanks sweetheart."

-"May I ask why, Lando?"

-"It's very closely connected to my request."

"Which would be....?"

"Be as kind to me as you are today" Again, you reacted with another questioning look. Lando took a moment to reply to a question from Zak and only after that quickly took his phone again to elaborate.

"Tight t-shirt with no bra is the peak of kindness in my opinion. Remember this next time I'm sad, I'm sure it'll help."

There is a certain kind of mad, that's not really angry or serious even, but still manages to rile up the blood in ones veins. Lando noticed your disbelief and tried to hide his amusement by pretending to be super interested in what Zak has been saying. For his own sake, he should stick with a driver's career, rather than acting.

In the meantime, to cut his fun short, you gracefully took out your sweater and put it on.

5 seconds later you received a ":(" text from the one and only.

"Sad already, Lando? I recall some cure for that. But probably for a closer inspection."

Lando was biting his cheek while reading it, only to be lightly reminded by Oscar of all people, that Lando's full attention is required to other things than his phone.

You were also pretending to be super interested in the presentation, but in the corner of your eye, you felt the rookie McLaren driver pointing his attention in your direction.

Probably nothing, right?

//

The change in your mood has been noted by those closest to you. All of a sudden, you were like a lit up candle, shining around every room you walked in. This did not play well with your need to stay as lowkey as possible. Oh and you were dyinggg to speak about this with someone to help you process what the fuck was actually happening. But it was all just pretty delicate. Mentally, you'd settled on the idea that once this is over, it will be a cool and unbelievable story for you and your friends. You did not usually fall for people, but when you did, you fell hard. You were currently overrun by adrenaline and dopamine to make much of a room for any of this to worry you.

Lando seemed to be followed by someone from the team all throughout the week. He was very vocal to you over texts about his impatience and that you both would need to be creative. Lando also wanted to catch the golden hour for your photoshoot. Wanted was an understatement, he was obsessed with it.

So when is the best time to avoid everyone? When they're busy getting ready for a new sponsor welcoming party. It was easy for your to get out of it, it was impossible for Lando to skip it completely - but arriving fashionably late was something he could very much afford. Which gave you an hour or two to have fun.

When the taxi dropped you off over at a location he sent you, he was already there. You agreed that at the moment, him picking you up would be risky. His car here on a random hill near Monte Carlo was suspicious enough. Then again, normal cars seemed to avoid Monaco.

He was leaning over centuries old abandoned wall on a make shift parking spot next to a forest, light shining directly into his face. You were not sure whether he was trying or if it just really came naturally, but when took his sunglasses off to look at you properly, he looked like he was put on this Earth to break hearts, to capture and allure anyone he decided.

So, into the lion's den you went. Nowhere you'd like to be but here.

"Good girl," is what he opened with. Shamelessly looked you up and down and continued: "I like it when you listen to me." Yes. You wore a tight crop top without a bra. And you had zero regrets for using cheap tricks.

"Well, Mr. Photographer. You're the boss. Now it's your turn to tell me what to do." The way how him telling you what to do made you so horny was freaking you out a bit. You were usually the dominant one, right?

"Like the sound of that. Come over there with me and let's see how this light works."

You were 100% sure he wanted to kiss you. Just like you wanted to kiss him. But this cat and mouse vibe was making it all just a bit more exciting. So you immediately went to where he was pointing.

"Taking a girl in the forest, alone. You sure you're not planning anything I should be worried about, am I right?"

"If I recall, you're the one who dragged me to a forest at night. Perhaps it's our thing."

"We'll see."

//

Lando had a different kind of a photographer personality than you had. With him doing this just for fun, he was super relaxed, chatty and playful. You were more "crazy eyes" "in-the-zone" type of a person when it came to photography. But his approach worked on you. You were actually bit worried coming here, because being on that side of the camera was not your comfortable spot. He managed to get all of this out of the window without even trying. At first he gave you over the top instructions as a joke, suddenly speaking with a horrifyingly bad French accent.

"I'm not doing that, Lando," you laughed out when he requested you run away from him so he could take some blurry back shots.

"Monsignor Norris for you, madame, let's be professionale," he kept his act and looked at you and rolled his eyes. "These young hot girls, they always think they are ze shit. How can I work with these material. My art will suffeour."

You looked at him, trying not to laugh at his theatrical expressions. Apparently, you were now into bad accents jokes. He was getting under your skin in parts you had no idea is possible. "This was maybe more German than French, monsignor Norris."

"Papa must have been German then." He then swiftly moved his camera up, completely taking you by surprise.

"Yes," he abandoned the accent. "The face of a total disbelief suits you the best. I want to see that."

It was fascinating to watch someone walk so gracefully on the line of serious hot and goofy cute. You were doomed.

You sighed loudly. He smiled. You bit your lip and butterflies flew as if they were on drugs. Because spending time with him was having the same affect as drugs would have on different people.

"Can I take one photo of you?" you asked. "The light is just too perfect to miss this out."

He stepped closer. Handed you the camera. When his hand touched yours, it felt like being burned in the best way possible.

"Yes. But only if this goes to your special secret folder with the other ones."

You nodded. His fingers played with yours. You looked up at his face and lips he just licked. And then you kissed him again. This was probably the slowest kiss you ever shared. Not a quick "hurry up before someone sees us" type of kiss. No, this was the one where you explored, drowned in the moment. You were becoming used to the texture of his lips, the way his tongue moved and how his teeth lightly bit your own lips once in a while. This wasn't a rushed moment. This was a study session. It continued to surprise you how great of a kissing partner he was to you. Putting most of your previous kisses you had with other people in shame.

When his hand slowly traced a line starting down your neck and ending right above your nipple, you could feel him smile into your kiss. "Shall I continue?" Lando had his line of asking for consent and making it sound hot mastered to perfection.

"Yes."

"Yes...?"

"Yes, please."

"That's more like it." And he went on to circle and squeeze your nipple. It was as if he had unlocked a new level. The further you went the more had the curiosity about how it must feel when he'd be inside you grew into a need. Desire transforming to urge. Intrigue growing to lust. Lando studied what kind of an effect each of his move had. And used what he had observed to toy with you even more. He gently pushed you to the nearest tree, pressed his body against yours and bit your nipple through your shirt, causing you only wanting more. You grabbed his hand it on your other breast and make him squeeze it. While you yourself started exploring his torso under his t-shirt. He returned back to kissing you, while his hands roamed around your body. You reached all the way to his belt and pulled him forward. "Careful, Y/N," Lando joked in between kisses. "Might be hard to turn back and stop if we keep it at this pace. Here in this forest. Anyone could walk by."

Your hand started to trace the outline of his growing erection. "Is it bad that I'm finding that hot?"

He smiled. "Yes. And I guess we are both bad people."

You gently grabbed him. The reaction his body was giving you was everything. "So we'll stop here. We need to get you to the stupid event anyway."

Lando took a deep breath. "Right."

"Right," you smiled, finally seeing that you have some effect on him, which was only making you want to go further in the future.

You both stepped away from each other, burning each other with eye contact. Once Lando came back to normal a bit, he winked at you. "Come along, I need to smile at people who are making sure we get paid."

"Fair enough." You snapped an unexpected photo, getting his flustered face in the perfect light. Cheeky smiles were shared again.

The sun was almost set as you reached his car. "I'll drive you to the hotel."

"You sure?" you asked. "I'm happy to get a cab to be safe."

"Nonsense, you'd be waiting here for half an hour. Come, I'll drop you off in the parking lot of the hotel, quickly dress and head to the event."

You got into his car, reluctantly. Once you were settled, he promply started the car, did 180 drift and had the car sprint to the road entrance.

You laughed. "Show off...."

"Ha, as if."

The drive was silent for few minutes, but after that Lando started asking you quite a lot of questions. It seemed a bit strange to you. He was suddenly interested in how you like your colleagues, what got you to the world of F1, how your family handled the fact you were away all the times. You made a joke about this feeling like an interview. He joked back, saying he is continuing on trying different roles and progressed from a photographer to an interviewer. You had a lot to say about this - how come he would consider this a progress?

It felt like you could spend hours talking to this British idiot.

In the middle of your conversation, he put his hand on your leg for a moment. It really should not make you lose focus on the outside world so quickly, right?

part 5

_______________________

@i-wish-this-was-me @lqvesoph

[libellule-ao3]

HC: Ominis, his eyes and his experience as a blind wizard

Picture Credits: @deathlysallows [link]

Hello,

I was talking to someone recently about Ominis' eyes, and it gave me the idea of publishing these HCs. 🙂

Please note that the ideas and interpretations presented in this post are my 'headcanon', some of which are mentioned/explored in my fanfictions, but not all. I respect and appreciate the different opinions and interpretations that others may have.

My intention is to share my thoughts, not impose them... I'd love to see yours btw. 😊

Approximately 1,560 words at present. This could increase with possible future updates.💚

☆ Ominis’ eyes do not have pupils to let light enter his eye and reach the photoreceptors. As a result, he has no light perception and is totally blind. This lack of pupils, a phenomenon unique even among wizards, is the result of the marriage between his family's consanguinity and Dark Arts, which they practise shamelessly. (Quote: Ominis was born blind and no spell could reverse it)

☆ Besides this absence of pupils, his eyes are distinguished by their density of pale blue radial streaks, which start from the centre of the iris and radiate outwards, against a dark blue background. This pattern gives his eyes a fascinating, dynamic look. Ominis’ eyes are not opaque, milky or cloudy. These descriptors are so often associated with cataracts or glaucoma (i.e. Eye diseases Ominis does not have in my HC) that I avoid using them.

☆ Even when taking on the appearance of a sighted person thanks to the Polyjuice Potion or using Legilimency, Ominis remains unable to see, as his brain does not know how to interpret visual stimuli.

☆ If the Polyjuice Potion had worked, Ominis' parents wouldn't have hesitated to kidnap a child of the same age, sequestering him so that Ominis could take on his appearance, proceeding in the same way as Barty Crouch Jr did with Alastor Moody.

☆ Using a Pensieve does not negate his blindness either. He therefore perceives the memories consulted by this means in the same way as he perceives his everyday environment.

☆ Ominis has a well-developed sense of touch and smell, and his hearing is very acute. However, the acuity of these senses is not superhuman. He has only learnt to maximumly use his sensory compensatory means to make up for the visual deficit.

☆ During his childhood, his parents and siblings, who struggled for a long time to cure his blindness did not value his existence. As a result, Ominis tends to see himself as less valuable than a sighted person, despite what his Aunt Noctua says.

☆ Ominis has never let his blindness stop him from doing what he really wanted to do. On the other hand, as a good sneaky snake, he doesn’t mind using his blindness as an excuse not to do what he refuses to do or... to justify getting physically close to his heart’s desire. "I can’t work with my wand today, can you guide me to the Great Hall?" How can you say no to him when you know his wand [HC link] is so fickle?)

☆ When not using his echolocation spell, Ominis relies on his other senses to understand the world around him. As a result, surprise contacts can be disturbing for him as they abruptly disrupt his sensory perception. This generates anxiety, as he cannot anticipate the contact. But when this is done by people with whom he has no emotional bond, Ominis experiences it as an additional violation of his personal space, which can make him angry.

☆ Before she disappeared, his Aunt Noctua used to embroider hangings for him, which she would then hang in his bedroom. Ominis loved to run his fingertips over the raised patterns and different textures. Even without seeing them, Ominis could appreciate their creativity and aesthetics through touch. He still has a strong taste for embroidered fabrics from this period.

☆ Without concrete sensory experience of colours, his perception of colours remains a mental concept for him. At Hogwarts, he used to ask Sebastian if his clothes matched properly until he was familiar enough with fabrics to recognise them by touch.

☆ Before Ominis got his wand, he had to learn to organise his living space so that he could be as independent as possible. As a result, Ominis is very tidy and always puts his things away carefully so that he can find them more easily and navigate safely. Even in the most intimate moments, he folds and tidies his clothes before attending to his lover... firstly out of habit, and secondly because he finds it very exciting to play with their patience.

☆ For the Gaunt, the family’s image and reputation were of crucial importance. Having a blind child was a source of shame, as it could be interpreted as a weakness in their lineage or a sign of failure. When they gave up hope of curing him, they convinced themselves that a Gaunt could not be born deprived of sight without obtaining a compensatory magical ability, such as the gift of clairvoyance... Reality soon caught up with them.

☆ This umpteenth disappointment, combined with Ominis’s repeated refusal to adhere to supremacist ideals, or to practise dark arts, reinforced the hostility of Ominis’s parents towards him. As a result, the abuse escalated until the terrible episode recounted in the game (negative emotions + intolerance + misunderstanding + social pressure formed a detonating cocktail)

☆ His echolocation spell allows him to navigate independently, but it will never replace sight.

☆Capable of taking initiative, his wand has a will of its own that sometimes comes into conflict with Ominis. When this happens, it is very difficult for him to work with his wand and he may sometimes ask someone to guide him to where he wants to go. If he turns to you in this case, it’s a sign that he has a great deal of trust in you, something he doesn’t grant easily.

☆ The fact that people avoid certain words (see, or look for example) in his presence, or are embarrassed when he uses them himself, metaphorically or simply as a linguistic convention, amuses him and he doesn’t hesitate to play them up.

☆ If he’s not serving himself, he discreetly feels his plate to find out where the food is.

☆ Ominis is very concerned about his appearance because he wants to blend in with society to avoid attracting unwanted attention. Also, he feels more confident with having an impeccable appearance. His obsession: getting a stain on his clothes that he can’t detect. He used to ask Anne to check his outfit several times during the day.

☆ Although many classmates have asked him to touch their faces so that Ominis can “see” them, he has always flatly refused, as he finds it too intrusive. Sebastian and Anne are the only ones with whom he has allowed himself this familiarity... until his fiancée.

☆ Aloof and reserved by nature, Sebastian, Anne and his lover are the only people he accepts hugs from. These have enabled him to obtain information about their appearance, height, weight, hairstyle, morphology and much more...

☆ Wizards of their background were often evaluated on their elegance and their ability to fit into the society at the time. In addition to the classic upbringing of a member of the illustrious Gaunt family, Ominis’ parents insisted he acquire good social skills and impeccable manners, which was not always easy for Ominis.

☆ For he had “automatic, stereotyped and repetitive” gestures (blindism). Swaying his body or turning his head, or repeatedly rubbing his eyes were very severely punished, as were the various postural disturbances inherent in his blindness (head in profile because that’s the ideal listening position, shuffling gait to keep his 2 feet anchored to the ground maintain his balance more easily etc...). As a result, Ominis has become very aware of himself and his body language.

☆ Always with the aim of meeting their standards, his parents imposed a strict education on him, ensuring that he was fully educated in the history of Magic, that of his ancestors, that of the great pureblood families, the evolution of the bonds governing them and the dark arts for which the Gaunt are so renowned.

☆ In Victorian times, professional prospects were rather limited for blind people, even in the wizarding world, and even with the best education. What’s more, the family safe at Gringotts was just a leaky basket, so Ominis’s parents forced him to play the piano hoping he would become skilled and renowned enough to bail them out. As a result, he plays the piano very well, but he is not a prodigy. This skill is the result of long efforts and painful constraints. All washed down with tears.

☆ At Hogwarts, potions classes are the hardest for Ominis to grasp. Too much simultaneous olfactory stimulation, a method of learning ill-suited to the blind as the recipe steps rely on the precise colouring of the brew.

☆ When he's not using his echolocation spell, Ominis hates it when people leave him after a conversation without telling him they're leaving.

☆ Braille appeared in England in 1861, and Ominis learned about this Muggle system of reading and writing from his Aunt Noctua, who was much more open to the Muggle world than the rest of the Gaunt family, who refused to hear about it. He learned it on his own, with the help of his aunt and the house-elf who provided him with reference books.

☆ When he has to use a knife for cooking or in potions class, Ominis demands a perfectly sharp blade that offers a more precise cut with less effort, reducing the risk of slippage and injury, unlike a dull knife, which is potentially more dangerous as it requires more force to cut, making control more difficult.

☆ He doesn’t cut his fingernails, he files them to make sure he doesn’t cut himself.

(These last 2 HC are from anecdotes heard about my paternal grandmother, whom I never knew and who became blind because of cataracts that were inoperable at the time because of certain medical history)

Masterlist

[rottenpumpkin13]

The random things the firsts + Zack and Cloud end up doing are so silly from a continuity standpoint. I just imagine Lazard assigning them to these things either as a way to get them out of the tower for a moment of peace (at the cost of double paperwork that will inevitably occur from whatever chaos they cause) or as a (usually failed) PR thing. "These upstanding SOLDIERS (+ token infantry cadet) are just like you! Just normal people who do normal things! I know First Class Hewley just launched First Class Rhapsodos through a wall, just listen-!" Anyway, all this to say:

The boys are all gathered in Lazard's office.

Lazard: "Listen up, SOLDIERS and Cadets, I want no more shenanigans from you lot. This next mission is very important and I can't have you chucklefucks messing up. I've signed you all up for a ham curing class."

Angeal: Director, surely you're joking. We have more important jobs to do.

Zack: Yeah, we need action and adventure!

Genesis: Don't let our talents and skill go to waste for the sake of some silly PR thing.

Zack: What kind of PR even is this?? Do you really think the Sephiroth will be caught dead at a ham curing class?

Sephiroth, raising his hand: Will we be able to eat the ham?

Lazard: Yes.

Sephiroth: Then I have no complaints.

Zack:

[demiesworld]

Hi. Firstly love your writing. Secondly (only if you want to write it of course if not I thank you for taking time out to read this) may I request Hantengu clones reacting to their first kiss with S/o?

【♛demie: yes you may and i do apologize for taking so long to get to this request! i hope you enjoy it!】

first kiss with the hantengu clones (sfw)

pairings: sekido, karaku, aizetsu, and urogi x gn!reader

synopsis: hantengu clones sharing their first kiss with their s/o.

notes: reader is gender-neutral. no pronouns are used. reader is of age. in sekido's the reader thinks that he is a monk and sekido gives them a prayer. it wasn't my initial idea to go for it, but it fit in with the plot so i kept it. if i was incorrect with some things or offended anyone please let me know, respectfully, and i will remove it. otherwise, enjoy this! p.s. sekido's is also pure word vomit bc i wasnt thinking of sticking to a decent size script.

— SEKIDO

When Sekido first met you, a human, his first thought of you was that you were weak. You were weaker than him, a demon, because of your mortality. In his mind, humans were susceptible to illnesses and diseases that weren't easy to cure with herbs and medicine. So when he encountered you in the cold hours of the night inside of your hut, after slaughtering and cannibalizing half of your village, his original plan was to just eat you alive.

But when he saw you, something in Sekido couldn't bear to even touch you let alone eat you.

You were laying on your back on a shiki futon next to a burning fire pit and covered by a thick blanket. He could hear your labored breathing and pained grunting at each breath you took. It didn't take a genius to notice that you were sickly. The beads of sweat on your forehead and dazed look in your eyes was a tell-tell sign that you weren't in good health. To him you looked too pathetic to kill.

He was standing in the door way and then turned his back to you. He got ready to leave when your croaky voice spoke, "A-Are y-you a m-monk?" His shoulders went tense as he stood there listening to you, "P-Please m-monk... I'm a-afraid that I don't have... much time."

Sekido huffed in annoyance, but he turned on his heel and further walked into the hut. He stood in the shadows to keep his appearance hidden, not that you – a weak human – could do anything to him. You were most likely on the brink of death.

"Thank you... I-I want to a-ask if you c-c-could pr-pray for me. My health has not been well as of lately, and my family do not live here with me in this village. I've just been taking care of myself, but as you can see I'm not doing a very good job." You let out a soft chuckle though it turns into a coughing fit and eventually subsides, "I will be honest with you monk, I am not a religious person, but if a simple prayer from you would alleviate me of this sickness then I will turn over a new leaf and b-be forever g-grateful..."

The anger demon gripped tighter on his staff as he placed a knee on the floor. Why was he entertaining you? Why was he still here? He should have left you for dead, but his body is refusing to leave. Sekido sits fully on the floor now, crossing his legs and holding the shakujō to his shoulder.

"What is your name?" He asked you. Your heart swelled up with gratitude and you smile affably to the person you thought was a monk. Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes when you state your name to him. "That is a beautiful name. I will give you a prayer now, let us close our eyes and start."

Sekido waited for you to shut your eyes first, before he began the prayer that you requested. The prayer was solely for you and he prayed to relieve you of your sickness. He prayed for you to be healed, your suffering to be freed, and for protection to be bestowed upon you. When he was finished with the prayer, he stood up from the floor and just looked at you blankly.

The anger demon didn't know exactly how to feel when he left you in the hut that night and returned to his counterparts. They asked him where he went to which he ignored the three and trekked in the direction of their next mission destination.

After his mission was complete, Sekido returned to you a night later and found that you were still sick. Your condition did not improve. He had asked you if had eaten and your response was you tried but you kept vomiting. He was a demon, and he didn't know of any herbs or medicine that could cure whatever you had. He stayed with you and gave you prayers to help ease your mind at the least. Sekido would show up to your hut every night at an odd hour to sit with you, offering you his company, and give you a prayer.

One night, Sekido made a decision that could possibly affect him for better or for worse. After consideration, Sekido poked a needle into the tip of his finger and held the bleeding digit to your chapped lips. He let the blood drop several times onto your tongue before pulling it away and regenerating the skin there.

That night Sekido sat with you for a while waiting for any signs of improvement after he gave you a taste of his blood. You didn't show anything, so he figured that you must have passed away. He got aggravated. It was a waste of his time to be stuck here thinking that you – a human – would be alive.

He left your hut that night with the firm belief that you had died. What a pity. What a waste of a time. It clearly showed him that humans, especially a person such as yourself, shouldn't be bothered with trying to strengthen. He couldn't say the word "help" because to him that meant he was performing an act of kindness. Something that he, a demon who felt solely anger, couldn't be synonymous with.

As he went on about his own life, Sekido would ignore the pangs he felt in his chest whenever thoughts of you crossed his mind. He would make battles between him and his counterparts against demon slayers short because he wanted to return to their safe house quickly. Every time he came across a human that he wanted to feast on, that was weak like you, he couldn't consume them. He would just kill them and leave their mutilated body behind.

His counterparts appeared to have notice his slight change in demeanor. Though neither of them made a comment on it. They didn't want to address it for fear of Sekido's rage.

It was maybe a month after declaring you as dead, when Sekido felt a strong pulse out of nowhere surface. He had been resting at their manor when he felt it arise. The demon thought danger was coming and he quickly grabbed his staff and ran out into the rainy thunderous night.

The strong pulse came again and this time it was getting closer. Good. The closer it got the easier it would be for him to kill it. He chases the origin of the pulse to a clearing in the forest. As he neared the center he stopped in his tracks and searched his surroundings for any incoming attacks.

Just as he was about the lure the attacker out with his lightning, Sekido heard a faint shout, "Monk!" and it eerily sounded like you. "Mooonk!" the voice gotten clearer, and louder, you were getting closer.

Sekido turned on his heel to his right to see you running into the clearing. Your clothing was drenched from the pounding rain just like his own, but to his astonishment you were alive. You were on your feet. You were breathing. You were speaking. You... survived.

"Y/N..." he murmurs your name as you slow down to stand right before him. There was no shadows or obscurity covering his face. You could see Sekido for what he truly was. A demon. A human-eating, murdering, demon.

You threw your body onto his as you embraced him in your arms. Why were you hugging him? Shouldn't you be repulsed by the sight of his face? Why weren't you running away from him? Your arms squeezed him tighter and your face buried into his chest.

Sekido's hand comes up to your head and cradles it gently in his grasp. He stands there, still like a statue, as he listens to you speak, "I never got to say thank you for saving my life monk. Without your prayers, I don't think I will be alive right now. I owe you my eternal gratitude and I wish to serve you."

The anger demon looks down at the top of your head and blurts out, "Why are you not running from me?"

You ignore his question and look up at his face. Your lips curve into a radiant smile, "I never saw your face before, monk, you are quite ruggedly handsome." You say as you take a hold of his hand and bow your head. "Please take me to where you rest your head and we shall both explain things to each other."

Sekido growls and squeezes your hand in his own, he scorns at your wince, "Answer my question first."

"I don't want to run away from the person who gave me a second chance at life. Not when I owe them my life in return."

"Are you stupid? Are you blind? Do you not see how I look, human?" He interrogates you, before bellowing, "I am a demon!"

"And I don't care!" You shout back, your lips trembling as you refrain yourself from crying. "I don't." You whisper.

After a brief moment of silence between the two of you, Sekido unwillingly led you to his manor where you two talked over what happened. You explained that after Sekido had given you his blood, you woke up the next morning feeling stronger than before. Your fever and chills went away, you could actually move on your feet, and the bruises you had from being bedridden were gone. You told him that you had tried to walk out into the daylight, but your new body couldn't stand the sunlight so you were left to do things out at night.

Unlike him, you didn't get cravings for humans, you still ate human food. Sekido went on to tell you that he wasn't a real monk and that he was an upper rank demon. He said he found you that night sick, after slaughtering and cannibalizing your village. He didn't even want to kill you or eat you because you looked to be on death's door step anyways. Though when you cried out to him he was forced to stay around. When you asked him why he kept returning every night, he refused to explain why. The only answer he had given you was that he felt pity for you.

Following your discussion over that, you asked him once again if you could stay by his side. To which Sekido allowed you to, but you would only be introduced to his counterparts as his ward. You agreed to that. You stayed underneath Sekido's watch and protection while living with him and his counterparts at their hideout. Sekido arranged for you to sleep in the same room as him, though not in the same bed.

Eventually, you and Sekido grew closer to each other and when you were alone you both liked to lay next to one another. Kind of like tonight, with you laying on his bed facing him while he had his eyes shut. You closely admired the purple veins on his forehead and eyes, the curved horns, and sharp pointed fangs that stuck out of his mouth. He was, in your terms, ruggedly handsome.

"I can feel you staring at me, human," Sekido mutters with his eyes remaining closed. You let out a short chuckle and he adds on, "Why are you staring at me?"

You reached up to cup his cheek in the palm of your hand. You answer his question softly, "I'm just admiring your face, Sekido. You know you are not as scary as you look. There's a few rough edges to your appearance," You didn't flinch when he opened his eyes and crimson hues were fixedly narrowed at you. Your finger delicately touches his jawline then the bridge of his nose and finally his furrowed brow bone. "But there's also the softness that I'm fond of." You smile brightly at him.

Sekido took your hand in his own and murmured, "What are you talking about?"

You didn't say anything instead you leaned closer to him and confidently pressed your lips to his. The demon's eyes widened at the feeling of your lips touching his own. He laid there stunned and still until you slowly pulled away from him.

A giggle past through your lips when you noticed the bewildered expression on his normal scowling face. Suddenly Sekido's hand came to the back of your head and pulled you back to his lips. His mouth locked in with yours while his tattooed tongue delved into the cavern of your orifice. You gasped into his mouth from the unexpected kiss, but returned it with just as much vigor as he bestowed.

You kissed him until your lungs were crying for air and only then did you finally pull away to pant against his supple lips. Sekido's face was tickled by the puffs of air onto his skin.

"I have lived for over two centuries, and never have I encountered a human like you. You are foolish if your wishful mind thinks that a demon like me would ever learn to devote their life to you."

His cruel words were strikingly different from his earlier actions. Though you didn't bother to argue or point it out. While it certainly wasn't an explicit explanation of rejection, you smile regardless to him and lay your head on his chest. "Then call me a fool then, Sekido, because I don't think my mind will change when it comes to someone like you."

— KARAKU

You chirping with glee as you sat on Karaku's lap and patted powdered makeup that matched his dark skin tone onto the areas of his face that had purple veins on it. You held his chin in your other hand while closely examining for any spot you may have missed. Thankfully you didn't and you slid off of his lap while grabbing a handheld mirror and showing it to your lover.

"Look to see if I covered everything up." You say.

He takes the mirror out of your hand and looks at his reflection, his green eyes narrowing for any missed spots. "Hm... I think you covered everything up fine." He then turned to you with a frown and pointed to the horns on his head, "Now what are we going to do about these?"

Your face warms up when you remember the horns on his head. You didn't think about trying to hide them so you didn't know of any method of doing it. As far as you knew, Karaku couldn't conceal them. Therefore you were left with only one option.

With a cheerful smile you blurt out, "We can just tell everyone that they're a part of your costume!"

Karaku grimaces at you, "If you wanted me to dress up as a demon, we could have just forego the makeup and I could have just went as myself."

"Y-Yeah, but what if people get scared by how...devilish you look?"

The demon stood up from the bed and folded his arms above his head, "So? My devilish charm didn't stop you from mounting me like an animal." He smirked at the flustered expression you made.

"You shut your mouth! We've never even gotten that far!"

"Yet." He interjected.

After he made you fluster and stammer over your words again, you decide to ignore your lover for the time being and went to get dressed for the night. Tonight, you had established a date with Karaku by going out to a festival in the entertainment district. Of course there would be people there dressed in bizarre clothing, so you believed that Karaku could attend it without a problem. The only thing you had difficulties with was concealing his horns. Once you were dressed in your outfit for the night, you instructed him to dress in his black yukata tied with a red obi.

You left with him to go to the festival, while you were there some children were in awe at Karaku's "mask" and said he looked like a formidable demon. He arrogantly boasted about his muscles, showing his arms off to the kids and letting them hang off of it like a monkeys in a tree. Eventually they left you two alone and you and him enjoyed your time at the festival. There were some occurrences with Karaku almost exposing himself as a demon. Such as him tossing a ring and when he didn't land on any of the flasks, his supernatural strength was exposed when he slammed his fist on the counter and broke through the surface. Of course, the humans around you just assumed he was a overwhelmingly strong brute and paid him no mind.

As the night grew to a close, the musicians at the festival played lively music at a venue. The strings of the samisen, pounding on the taiko, and whistles of the shakuhachi sing. You took Karaku by the hand and led him in a graceful, animated dance. Your fingers were intertwined with his as you two dance closely to each other's bodies. The radiant smile you had never once faltered from your face as you moved your body to the rhythm of the music.

"Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Karaku," You say as you stare lovingly at him. Your heart was beating in your chest like a drum, and you had an inkling Karaku could hear it even with the music playing in the background. "I really enjoyed myself with you here."

The demon's lips curved up, his fangs peeking through when he did so and his hands settle on your hips. "The feeling is mutual my little human." His eyes softens at yours, and lids lowered as he leans closer to your lips.

Your face heats up when he leans intimately towards you. You try to back away from him, but Karaku is quicker and he keeps you pinned to his strong body. A flutter rises in your stomach. Your hands tighten on his shoulders, and you keep your feet planted on the ground.

"Karaku," you shyly whisper his name.

He doesn't say a word, instead his lips closes in on yours and the distance between you two is shortened. Your eyes shut as you perceive his warm and soft lips on yours. An idea crosses your mind to embrace Karaku by locking your hands together behind his nape. He could taste the sugary flavor lingering on your lips from the candied treat you had ate earlier. While the savor of it was unpalatable to his demonic appetite, Karaku found it to be rather nice as it was solely comparable to your gentle spirit. As your breaths mingled through the exhales of your noses, your hands moved up and fingers weaved into the thick wispy tresses of his hair.

The passionate kiss you shared with Karaku was abruptly short by the loud explosions of fireworks bursting in the night sky. You two pulled away from each other, and your eyes were locked. The explosion of fireworks weren't the only thing enchanting you that night.

— AIZETSU

You were laying in your bed, sleeping underneath the warmth of your blanket, at the time a gust of crisp air entered your room. The wind lifted your blanket away from your body and carried it to a desolate corner where it dropped into a heap. You unconsciously flinch and move into a fetal position. A candle you had lit beside your window got extinguished by the strength of the breeze. In seconds, you slowly awoke from your slumber and drowsily took in your surroundings in your bedchamber. As soon as you turned your head to your right you see an all too familiar dejected face framed by wispy onyx hair and luminous azure eyes.

You lift yourself up to sit upright and look up at your demonic significant other. "Aizetsu... what are you doing here?" You asks him softly. His sudden arrival was entirely unexpected as usually he would send you a letter about coming to see you in advance. With him appearing to you now in the dead of the night, you had wondered if anything went wrong with a mission he been assigned to.

He places his spear against the wall and slid off the bulky ropes around his shoulders. He takes a seat on the bed beside you and looks at the wooden floor. You don't utter a word when he reaches out and grabs your hand in his. Aizetsu's thumb strokes the top of your hand whilst gingerly holding it.

"Aizetsu," you repeat his name again and close the distance between your bodies. "What are you doing here?"

The sorrowful demon stops stroking your hand and tightens his grip on it. He quietly says, "I'm sorry for arriving without letting you know. We were in the area and I really wanted to see you before we left for our next mission." His head turned to face you with a troubled expression.

Your eyes widen and your body freeze for a moment. Then you mull over what he just said, and your face brightened. He separated from his other counterparts so he could visit you before they departed. It was thoughtful of him to do that.

"I'm happy to see you tonight, Aizetsu."

Your words took him by surprise as he stuttered, "Y-You are?" He questions, and leans his face closer to yours. The demon gently cups your cheek in his hand as he pleaded, "Please don't tell me you're saying that just to ease my misery."

You could feel your heart beat quicken from how close he was. You could just how many eyelashes he had and analyze the plum-colored ridges below his eyes. It was astounding despite how many times you spent with Aizetsu you were always nervous around him. You wonder if it was the same feeling for him.

Gradually, the distance between your lips closed and you felt sparks fly when his lips touched yours. The kiss wasn't anything too sensual or too dull, to you it felt just right. Aizetsu didn't want to encourage you into deepening it either, so the two of you just sat there feeling one another's lips in a sense of innocence.

Your lack of awareness of your surroundings was dwindling until the sudden bang! of your door pulled you away from the demon. Startled you both looked to where the origin of the sound came from and were annoyed to see none other than Karaku standing in the door way.

"Time's up kiddos, Aizetsu has to go with us now to the next location!"

You let out a sigh and turn your attention to your sorrowful lover, "I take this as you have to leave now, yes?"

Aizetsu nodded his head while he stood up from the bed still holding onto your hand. "I will be back for you, my beloved. Next time I will send a letter before surprising you again like this."

"You don't have to send a letter of notice anymore Aizetsu. If you surprise me like this again with a visit then I will be happy."

— UROGI

"UROGI!" You hollered from the from the ground and watched as your part-avian demonic lover flew through the sky terrorizing children. You knew that he wanted to eat them for sustenance, and while he was a demon and you were a human, you didn't want for him to do that to children. At least to keep his need to eat humans away from your sight and mind.

Once more you shout out his name, "Urogiiii!!"

He chortled and flew right past you shouting, "Just a moment my sunshine!" Your face fell into a frown when he did that. You could hear his boisterous laughter and the sound of children screaming afterwards. You did not want for him to consume those kids so you ran as fast as you could towards the sound.

"Urogi, do not eat those children!"

You came upon your lover and a small group of children, you thought that he had already began to eat them. Fortunately, you were wrong. Urogi was just playing with the human kids, and letting them climb on his back while he flew around with them. The stomach twisting feeling you had went away and you were relieved to find out the children were unharmed. Some of them had bright grins on their cherubic faces as Urogi leapt up towards the sky with three of them on his back and circle the glade.

The demon winked at you from above and played around with the children for a while. You waited for him to eventually descend from the ground safely with the kids and told the group to not tell their parents that a bird-man was flying around with them. For one, you didn't want to get into trouble, and two you didn't want for Urogi to end up getting killed by a hashira. To keep the children's promise not to tattle, you offered them candied treats if they wanted to play with Urogi again and led them to the path of their village before waving them goodbye.

After you watched the last child leave to go into their village, you turn your attention to Urogi and scowled at him. "Urogi! What the heck were you thinking?! Those children could have told their parents!"

"Relax, sunshine, those children weren't hurt were they? They'll be fine!"

You smack your hand to your forehead and rub your temples, grumbling, "That's not what I meant you bird brain! Children have loud mouths, if any of them tell someone about a bird-man flying around with them, they will come to get you!"

Urogi rolls his eyes at your excessive worry, "Calm down, do you want to go flying with me too? Is that it?" He took a step forward when you took a step back.

"W-What? No! I don't want to go-"

"Let's go for a ride, sunshine!"

As soon as the words left from his mouth, Urogi snatched you by the waist and took off with you into the night sky. The shrill shriek you emitted echoed as you wrestled with the demon to let you go. However you immediately stop once you realize that if keep struggling, and Urogi (accidentally of course) drops you, you could end up looking like a pancake. You glare at you lover who just smiles at you cheerfully.

You throw your arms over his shoulders and shout, "This isn't funny, Urogi!" Your eyes take a peek at how high up you are and you quickly hide your face in the junction of his neck and collarbone. A small fearful whimper resonating from you.

"It's not funny for you but I am having a joyous time right now!" He lowered you two towards the ground, though still he hovered just a few feet above. "Now does this make you more comfortable sunshine?"

"Yes it does."

You caught him off guard when you planted your lips against his. The kiss was fleeting, yet it still brought his mind to a brief pause. His golden eyes widen at you and he stood with his feet on the ground. The demon looks away from you once you start to grin.

"What's wrong my birdie? Did that kiss catch you off guard?"

"Don't tease me like that sunshine or you could end up in a predicament."

notes: it was not my intention to use gifs created by the same person lol but they all looked really good so- why not? also sorry for not posting as much, i have been fairly busy and also mentally drained these past few weeks.

[sebastianswallows]

A new family — Chapter 1

— PAIRING: dark!Ominis Gaunt x F!MC

— SYNOPSIS: Ominis gets tired of his family and how miserable life is with them after he graduates. So he follows Sebastian's example for once, and kills them in cold blood. Now that he has the mansion to himself, he discovers he would still like to have a family, but one of his own making.

— WARNINGS: angst, culminating in murder

— WORDCOUNT: 2.1k

— A/N: Following A Different Kind of Key, I got a prompt for breeding kink with Ominis. I decided to combine this with a fic idea I had included in a poll a few months ago, which was that Ominis kills his parents in revenge, and begins to appreciate the dark arts. I don't know yet how many chapters this will have, but get ready for a dark and manipulative Ominis, and smut 💕 Enjoy, my dears!

It wasn’t like Ominis to say Sebastian inspired him. But that was, in a strange twist of events, what ended up happening.

The day Solomon died changed everything between the four friends involved with it. Sebastian and Anne’s uncle was gone, Sebastian was the one who killed him and Anne was left distraught, their fifth-year-friend was there when it all happened, and Ominis was left feeling like the earth was pulled from underneath him, not knowing where he’ll land. During the following days, Anne buried Solomon and ran. He knew where she was, but was sworn to secrecy never to reveal it to anyone, particularly not to Sebastian. It was a difficult request, but Ominis expected it to be made easier by Sebastian’s inevitable indictment for murder, which was bound to come any day now — right?

Their friend, who even witnessed the murder, refused to turn him in. That left the weight of the choice to Ominis, but he was easily swayed. Why lose two friends when he’s already lost one? So he said nothing…

During the months that followed, the weight of all that happened hung over them like a sword, like a noose ready to drop, like a tipping avalanche. Yet nothing happened. They entered the sixth year, and then the seventh. Anne healed from the curse’s influence — it turned out that Rookwood was the real culprit — and Sebastian graduated from Hogwarts — with the commendations of all their professors — and it had almost escaped Ominis how surreal the whole thing was, but sometimes he reminded himself that Sebastian had gotten away with murder.

It was a struggle to push down just how impressed he was. Sebastian had gotten practically everything he wanted: Anne was cured, Solomon was out of the way in a permanent fashion, and their mutual friend, well, she was under Sebastian’s sway now as much as he was under hers. Complicity did that…

It wasn’t fair. His best friend had a brilliant career ahead of him in whatever field he chose, he had every opportunity now to look for his sister again, and his perfidious little friendship was blooming into a romance day by day — meanwhile, what did Ominis have to look forward to? A return to his parents’ clutches and some arranged incestuous marriage, no doubt.

It wasn’t fair. All his other classmates were cheerful to be done with school, optimistic, hopeful, happy. They had jobs and girlfriends and some were even due to marry. And Sebastian, disgustingly, behaved as if nothing had happened in fifth year, as if he wasn’t a murderer.

It wasn’t fair.

Ominis rode in the cabin with his two friends on the train back to London, where Sebastian was excited to go and apply for a position with Borgin and Burkes.

“You know you’d do better in the ministry…” their friend told him, the smile in her voice teasing but sweet.

“Funny,” chuckled Sebastian.

“You’re still afraid of them?” she goaded.

“I think they should be afraid of me,” said Sebastian quietly, leaning toward her over Ominis. “The score is still one-nill last I checked.”

“Yes, but they don’t know that,” she said, leaning toward him too so that they now hovered somewhere around Ominis’ chest.

“And I plan to keep it that way,” said Sebastian.

“Excuse me,” said Ominis, pretending not to know they were there and getting up briskly enough to knock them back.

“Omi—!”

“Hey, watch it!”

He grabbed his wand and went out of cabin, shutting the door behind him. He pretended to go to the restroom, and pretended to use it for the next 15 minutes, and pretended not to hold back tears of jealousy.

Things only got worse once he arrived home. His parents did not exactly welcome him with open arms, although he had excelled in his NEWTs and was among the best students of his year. No, they behaved as if he’d just been done with a silly distraction, that filthy school that took in mudbloods, and his filthy friends from lowborn families, and now his real life started, said his father, and the fun was over.

He lasted two weeks until he murdered them.

He considered doing it in their sleep, but he wanted them awake. It was the evening of the 17th of July, and it rained and hailed all throughout supper. Ominis pretended to retreat early for the night, leaving them all together in the dining room, tired and mellow with firewhisky.

The doors shut on their own as if by a gust of wind. The chandeliers and fireplace were frozen with a spell. And the dining room was plunged into utter darkness.

A decanter was knocked to the floor and his father was cursing, and his mother called out from the top of her lungs for the elves, but Ominis had sent them away. His sister was rambling something about the house being haunted. They were learning now what it was like for him, what it had always been like for him, although he didn’t imagine they could appreciate it. He cast off the disillusionment spell, he didn’t need it anymore, and summoned all their wands to him wordlessly. Disarmed and scared and in the dark, he picked them off one by one.

First, his sister. He surprised himself by not shaking at all as he did it. In fact, he had never been more calm — was this how Sebastian had felt?

Their mother became noticeably quiet when she saw the brief green light and heard a body fall, but it took a while until she found her, feeling around on the floor. She barely said her daughter’s name in anguish before Ominis killed her too.

His father was left, and by then he’d begun to suspect, calling his name and prowling through the pitch black in that lumbering way he did. Ominis allowed him to hear his footsteps coming closer.

“I know it’s you, you little rat,” spat Gaunt Senior, facing him but standing still. “I heard you say it.”

“And you’ll hear it again,” said Ominis coolly, “right before you drop dead.”

“If only your brother were h—”

“Avada kedavra.”

The flash of green enveloped his body as it collapsed to the floor, and then it was gone, and it was dark again.

Not that Ominis noticed a difference. All he knew now was quiet, and peace, and loneliness. He finally had a life work looking forward to.

The first order of business was to get rid of the bodies, which he accomplished by turning them into teacups and finding a place for them in the glass cabinet in the living room. Brushing his finger across one, he thought it felt different from normal porcelain — a bit more rough, less cold, like bone — but their shape and weight were otherwise quite perfect. He smiled as he put them away.

The next issue was what to do with his brother… Marvolo lived somewhere in London, and he had enough friends there already that his absence would be noted. And he would not come back to the Gaunt manor just because Ominis called. Even if he did, he’d inquire as to what happened to their parents.

Which brought him to the last and final point: how to explain their absence.

He spent the next hour packing their wands, their cloaks, a cauldron, a few ingredients, and a sacrificial dagger, and then he went off into the nearby woods. They sometimes went there to perform spells that called for incantations and ritual sacrifice of the local fauna, often not returning until morning, stinking of wet dirt and blood. He could say a spell went wrong, an animal attacked, and there was no trace left of them but a few less-than-savoury items.

It was quite a trek to make all on his own, even levitating the items behind him, which often snagged in the low branches and the weeds. When he thought he was far enough, he planted the cauldron in the middle of a clearing and stuck the dagger in the earth, scattering the other items all around in what might be a convincing pattern should anyone come look.

Morning found him in his bed, alone and dirty, but content.

Ominis smiled and turned on his back, and listened: quiet. No screaming, no fights, no one ordering him around, no threats of violence, no curses, nothing.

It took about twenty minutes for that to start to bother him.

His fingers toyed with the wand which rested on his stomach, and he thought about all the times he’d judged Sebastian for using the Unforgivables. A part of him still found it abhorrent, because Sebastian was never in such a situation as he had been with his family. However bad Solomon was, he wasn’t like the Gaunts. Meanwhile, another part whispered that he should feel ashamed.

“But I don’t,” he said to himself, speaking with nobody else to hear. “I’m not. I’m not sorry.”

And he wasn’t, for many days to come. When the house elves returned from the prolonged shopping trip Ominis had sent them on, he told him the same lie he had prepared — Mister Gaunt had gone with his family in the woods to perform a ritual but hadn’t yet returned, and Ominis was worried, oh but no need for the elves to go, they needed to tend to the house — and went through the coming days just as he normally would, and soon forgot he’d ever had a family at all. And yet the house seemed larger than before, and behind each corner he still suspected some malevolent force, within each sound a muttered curse or insult, and although he knew them to be safely dead, transfigured in the cabinet, he had moments in the night when he thought they had returned to take revenge.

It wore away at him, and he knew he had to resolve it with a change in circumstance: either he moved away, or he made the house livable again. He didn’t consider even for a second to write to his brother Marvolo, but he considered asking for Sebastian to visit together with their friend — until his thoughts settled strictly on her.

On a whim, he wrote to her, and her alone. The owl took a few days to return, and it brought to him a strangely mournful and yet exciting message.

Ominis had inquired about her health — she was well — and her search for work — not so well — and Sebastian.

“It pains me to say this,” she wrote, “but I do not know. Sebastian has been sent to recover something (I know not what) for Mr Burke. Part of his training, he said. As if he weren’t experienced enough in these sorts of things. I told him, as I’m sure you would have as well, that Mr Burke was only going to take advantage of him and gain a dangerous item at no personal cost, and is only using Sebastian’s goodwill and enthusiasm. He did not take it well and has yet to speak to me since. He said I called him ‘naive’, but I did nothing of the sort.”

Ominis chuckled as his wand vocalised the letter. It was blatant she did think Sebastian naive, just as it was blatantly true that he was.

“To be perfectly honest, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since, for various reasons,” she continued, “but I find my worries and upsets dwindle into something perhaps similar to what you felt at Hogwarts when Sebastian would get involved in these sort of reckless things — frustration.”

Ominis’ smile broadened. Her clear longing for Sebastian, her worry for his safety, her shameless affection, did not serve him — but frustration, he could work with. He picked up his dictation quill and a piece of parchment and sat down at his desk to write.

“My dear,” he started, “I am first of all happy to hear you are well and healthy, in spite of everything else seemingly falling apart around you. I am sorry, although not surprised, to hear about the novel way Sebastian has found to make a nuisance of himself. You have my full sympathies.

You have also, if you will not find it too forward, my invitation to join me at my parents’ mansion. I think it would be good for you. It is in a quiet and undisturbed area, close to London but surrounded by ancient woods. Without my family present, as they currently are — and we can discuss this too once you arrive — it is a most calming and comforting place, which sounds like just the sort of thing you need at present. You are welcome to stay for the remainder of the summer. It might help you find some balance in your life, perhaps even give you new energies to pursue employment — or other means of occupying yourself.

Please find the address enclosed.

Yours devotedly,

Ominis

P.S.: If indeed he does return in the interim, make no mention of this to Sebastian.”

[charlie-lec-stories]

Masterlist

Charles Leclerc

✘PR’s biggest mess // CL16

«Charles Leclerc/Russell!sister»

❝Lea Russell was the first F1 female driver, making history for the women’s movement in the racing world. But when things got more and more complicated, her life became a constant PR mess.❞

✘Natural // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character»

❝Charles finds himself becoming an incredibly committed babysitter, or is it more a parental instinct?❞

✘Patience and 1/2 of Double Trouble // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character»

❝Charles knew that having his little brother, Arthur, in F1 with him was going to be chaotic, what he didn't expect was to have to deal with Arthur's best friend too.❞

✘Ride // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character»

❝She's battling the fight of her life, he crashed into her life in the middle of the chaos and now won't leave.❞

✘80's Fever (Part I) // CL16

«Charles Leclerc/Vestappen!Twin»

❝What started as a PR activity to promote an 80's series ended up being Charles' excellent opportunity to make his rival fall for him.❞

Part II

❝After the best night of his life, Charles feels that there's an awkwardness that shouldn't be there. What can he do to fix that?❞

✘Clumsy // CL16

«Charles Leclerc/Sainz!sister»

❝Charles' clumsiness is a curse and blessing.❞

✘Fangio 2.0 // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character»

❝Charles finds himself worried about the crazy frenzy around his girlfriend who just got a seat in F1, but this feeling that was constantly minimized by her is going to become more than justified when a threat is made.❞

✘Hand written letters // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character»

❝Y/N, a pretty cold and moody woman, has the hardest shell to break through, but Charles will take his time if he has to.❞

✘A lovely mess // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character»

❝Four times Charles overreacted to becoming a father and one he actually failed to react. Or Charles being a mess through the best and most scary adventure of his life.❞

✘Invisible string // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Vettel!Sister»

❝While on a difficult time in his life, Sebastian discovers that his family is way bigger than he thought.❞

✘Everything happens for a reason // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Stroll!Sister»

❝After a whole life of following her father's orders, Y/N's tired of being the good girl and when she finally stood up for herself with the help of her best friend, all hell broke loose.❞

✘Dirty Little Secret - Halloween Special Series // CL16

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character»

❝Charles' wife went to The Other Side and came back, but her past did too.❞

Part 1: Qatar // Part 2: Guilt // Part 3: Maud // Part 4: Forgiveness // Part 5.1: Clemency // Part 5.2: The whole truth

Feat. Max Verstappen

✘The Socca Fiasco // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝Charles feels like he doesn't do enough compared to his partners so he decides to make a traditional Monaco dish for them. What could go wrong?❞

✘Some Odd Numbers are Even // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝Max knows that he's always been in love with his best friend, even if she was driving for the enemy, and he could live with that, but her dating the rival he has a crush on it's where he draws the line❞

✘One too many // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝When you have one too many it's great to have two boyfriends❞

✘McLaren Detectives Department // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝One day Max is totally furious with Y/N and Charles' relationship and the next he's completely fine with it, Lando is not buying it❞

✘Better // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝You can cure the enmity between Max and Charles, but never their competitive drive❞

✘Good enough // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝Max is not always the confident man he looks like❞

✘Drama King // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝Already used to Max's shenanigans, Y/N finds out that Charles with the flu can be quite a challenge❞

✘Out the comfort zone // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝Sensitive matters should always be addressed with kindness, tactfulness and pinch of fun❞

✘Nightmares // CL16 & MV1

«Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen»

❝Everyone deals with their own battle, but they are always easier faced together❞

[kneelingshadowsalome]

im gonna stay dreaming that either vampire engel turns Konig or her drinking his blood somehow turns her human because the way you write in general, the angst, the yearning, I wanna eat your writing my dude

Omg turning Engel back to human?? (Omg he could finally marry her and… um… love her properly)

What if���

What if König tried to find a cure for her…? 🥺🥺

König has never been so feral. He's rooting out vampires with a newfound purpose, but instead of just killing them, he tortures them first to find out if there's a cure for vampirism.

And Engel knows what he's doing... She knows, and says nothing. She can't believe that a human man wants to help her (well, technically, König never asks if she wants to become human again; he has made all her decisions for her for weeks now, but Engel's soft little lips tremble from seeing how fervently he's searching for a cure, just for her sake). Sometimes, he has to drag them to their camp for torture, and König doesn’t like it that she's close by, not one bit.

"Look away, little angel," he demands with a grim voice, completely different from the tone he usually uses with her, the gentle accent she's now grown used to. The violence of his trade seeps through everytime he's filled with bloodlust, and once, when a captive vampire spews out curses at her, shouts how she's a traitor, how she's not a wolf but a lamb for preferring to be with cattle, how their love is cursed, König's fist brings an end to the spell-like rage as the captive's jaw is ripped off by the blow.

And she can't look away.

She's now utterly, hopelessly, desperately in love, and hungry all the time: she never drinks enough because she just can't bring herself to do it, no matter how many times König orders her to have her fill. She can see that he can't take it, large and able-bodied as he is, so she has to lie to him that she's feeling well when in truth she's about to collapse. She nearly faints from thirst once, and that's the first time König gets angry at her. She falls to her knees and tries to apologize because she can't take it when he's upset, far less bear it if he's disappointed in her. But König storms from the camp, and she feels like dying; she's too weak to even follow him.

She can't, because it feels like a kiss.

That captive just read her mind and revealed her true feelings for her human captor, and König isn't appalled at all; he doesn't turn around and ask her if it’s true. He simply smashes a face in to stop the curse, like it matters to him that her love stays pure. Like he loves her too...

After a while that feels like a century, König returns like a mountain of fury. He's dragging her first proper meal in weeks with him, and looks like a man who has finally sold his soul to the devil, says nothing as he throws the poor male at her feet, even slits his throat for her. Hesitantly, he crawls forward and starts to feed, assuming that the young male he brought for her must've been some kind of a criminal. A thief or a rapist, perhaps.

She lies on the ground, all hope lost: did her one true love just leave her? For disobeying him...?

She can finally drink her fill, and after a while, König comes to crouch at her side. He starts to pet her hair while she drinks: and she can’t help but whimper. She drinks as neatly as she can, like a human drinking from a saintly cup, not giving into her lust, just closing her eyes and savoring the song of blood inside her and König's gentle hand upon her head…

She's so in love by now that she wants to be with him at all times, even when he rests. She simply can't take another night without him. Not an hour before dawn, she crawls out of the coffin she just crept into to escape the approaching sun. She slides onto the bed next to König, and tries to be as silent as possible – he would just command her back to her coffin if he woke up – shuffles next to him like a cold shadow, and almost succeeds... But then he stirs as she attaches herself to his warm, powerful form, practically clutches him like she's drowning.

She's quiet as a mouse, but no scolding comes, there's not a single sharp command from him. König just goes tense when he senses there's a woman latched to him; then starts to relax upon noticing it's just his love-starved pet who's crawled to him in the night. He even wraps his hand around her like they've always done this – like they're a married couple who have curled together for warmth and love for years and years.

"Engel… You need to go back to your bed," he says, voice parched and soft from sleeping. König always calls her coffin 'bed' as if it's merely just that: a downy bunk where humans go to sleep. At times, when they have to take refuge from a hail, König bribes the innkeeper and hauls her coffin to his room. She likes to think it's because he wants to ensure that nothing bad happens to her.

He starts to caress her softly (she can't believe how gentle König can be with his touch when he wants to): first her head, then her cheek, then her arm… Her fingers fiddle with the hem of his mask, the large black draping hood that König uses to conceal his true identity and which sets him apart from the rest of the village folk.

They're not that different, perhaps, her and him. He's a monster in the eyes of the humans too; they fear him at least as much as they used to fear her.

"Not yet," she whispers, asks, begs, and grips his heavy shirt in a tight fist, making it clear that he has to pry her fingers off one by one if he wants to get rid of her. The man just sighs and lets her cling to him for a little while longer. But just when she starts to relax with the hope that König might allow her stay here until the sun rises, he collects her in his arms and lifts her from the bed like she's nothing but the dress she wears.

He carries her to her coffin and sets her down, down, down to the wooden box he has made so lovely and snug for her; it's furnished with dark red velvet paddings and even has a small pillow with cute little tassels attached to it. The sun is already rising, and she feels like crying again when König moves to pick up the large, heavy lid like it weighs nothing at all.

"Sir… Don't leave me," she whispers as her last wish, beckoning to him with all she has, the last part of her that's human and not the creature he hates. There's a flash of agony in his stare: a brief, sullen, pained look as he looks down at her like the Holy Christos himself.

"I will never leave you," he promises, under his breath, a broken vow from a broken man, just before he encloses her in darkness.

[cosmic-nopedog]

Could you possibly share more of your kirakira swap au... it is very inch resting to me!! (also- cute art :D)

THANK YOU, I AM GOING INSANE WITH NO ONE OTHER THAN MY BROTHER TO TALK ABT THIS OH MY GOOOOODDDDDDDD

ok ok so, its a very simple swap au as i've said and im gonna be shooo honest with youo, its ciel x ichika, i like the ship i think they are cute together SO ITS GOING TO HAPPEN, BUT ANYWAYS THIS IS GOING TO BE KINDA LONG

In this au, ichika is a fairy from strawberry mountain, and goes off to paris to learn about sweet making like ciel in the og, however unlike ciel, she goes alone and does learn from jean pierre and gets shot into the lime light, but the thing is that she kinda feels like somethings missing.

yeah she makes a lot of kiraru with her technique alone and her passion for sweets making but it feels a lil.. empty, she is a very lonely girl and at the beginning very clumsy [its still ichika cmon dsfjn vg] so she kinda also has this like BIG imposter syndrome thing going on, she masks it well enough for PR and what not but shes kinda worried that this all is just a big stroke of luck and some day shes going to inevitably fail.

I will say i do have kind of a storyline in mind so bear with me dfkjbnjkdf.

Anyways, she goes on her life in paris as Uzuki Ichika: Prodigy Patissiere [am still making the au so bear with me for there will be changes here n there] and nothing more, UNTIL, she runs into Usami Satomi [aka Ichika's mom in the og storyline] and they talk, and she learns that Satomi is a doctor and lives in strawberry mountain and all that stuff and shes in paris temporarily as part of her job, and i want them SOMEHOW i've yet to really think about all the details to develop a sorta soft ish guardian&kid relationship like, thats not ur kid but might as well be type thing.

ANYWAYS, after enough time [yet to be determined] i feel like ichika starts confiding in Satomi alot of the feelings she has going on and Satomi brings up the idea of taking a break and going back to like her home town, and Ichika does agree and all [BUT I WANT SOME REALISM HERE RIGHT not too much tho we still have fun,] but does bring up the fact that she probably wont have a place to stay if she does so [excuses cus she could very much so stay with the fairies] and CORRECT ME IF IM WRONG but a long time ago i did read something about how if you know like, a family in a country well enough they can like take u in for some time? like Adopt you so tospeak AGAIN I MIGHTVE HALLUCINATED THIS but if not yeah, THATS what happens.

So shes staying with the Usami's! yay! well just the dad cus Satomi does have to travel cus of her job n what not, and goes back to strawberry mountain to hopefully clear her head and maybe remember why she did all of this in the first place.

THATS THAT ON ICHIKA, which im going to be sho honest with you, shes the one i've like thought abt the most, mainly cus i like making the pink cures depressed kdsnbjkfdb BUT ALSO because shes in SUCH a situation and i find that inchresting.

I WILL ALSO SAY, im not swapping everyone, just ciel n ichika, mainly cus i find making ichika a fairy and ciel a cringe fail amateur patissiere very fun and inchresting BUT I DIGRESS.

NOW, AS FOR CIEL, shes a normal girl that has just moved into strawberry mountain, ysee, she is originally from strawberry mountain but moved out at some point in her life and decided to sort of move back in to take care of her grandmother who still recides in there, Rio also came along with her cus I LOVE MY SIBLING DYNAMICS OK.

SPEAKING OF, the way i see their dynamic is that they are very close and yes they stil have their shared interest in sweets and what not but ciel is more of a What happens if I double the amount of batter type interest and Rio is more of a Watches 3 bilion youtube videos on alot of recepies that he sometimes asks ciel if they can try out. Which ofcousre has a very diverse rate of success kdjfhbjbk.

They have the Passion and all the Feelings into it but Not alot of technical skill, I do think they meet Pekorin the same way Ichika met Pekorin in the og story, AND I DO WANT TO MAKE RIO A CURE, HE WILL BE A CURE I WILL MAKE THIS HAPPEN.

OH speaking of, i did kinda change Ichikas and Ciel's cure names, Ichika is now Cure Meringue and Ciel is now Cure Velvet.

AND THATS PRETTY MUCH WHAT I HAVE LIEK SOLIDIFIED AS OF RN!!!

I do have some liek spare thoughts here and there like, Ichika and Pekorin Have a sybling dynamic slash are actual sisters and at somepoint i want ichika to get stained in shadow maybe same with Rio but i have yet to figure out a cohesive storyline for that, BUT I WILL FIGURE IT OUTTTTT!!!

Also do NOT spoil me shit, I have NOT finished Kirakira Precure as of rn, IM CLOSE BUT NOT THERE YET.

LAST THING: i will call this AU very simply Strawberry Meringue Au

That is all.

[elenagoeslightly]

The sun is slowly disappearing from view, the sky a soft orange surrounded by blue.

He regrets leaving.

He regrets leaving, and this is why he’s coming back to Vesuvia, tail between his legs and flowers in his hands.

You see, this is the first time he saw this kind of flowers and their uniqueness made him think of you.

He hides his face in them, blushing.

The pumpkin bread is still hot in his bag, he knows how much you like it when it’s still warm.

Oh, how much he misses you and how he hates fighting with you.

Especially when you are right, and you are.

He admires your courage, your will to be there for the less fortunate, he adores your strength, he-

Asra cannot bear the thought of something happening to you.

He cannot bear it, but he can’t stop you either, so he ran.

You screamed at him that it is what he does best, and how could he blame you?

That’s what he always did, every time his feelings were going to spill out of him, his heart too small to contain them, he ran away.

Faust snuzzle his cheek, and he lightly scratches her chin.

She misses you, too.

He wanted to tell you, he did, but he could never find the right moment; he used to fantasize, to imagine the two of you on an endless stream of adventure, but then-

What if you didn’t want him?

What if you cared for him as a friend, when he-

When he loves you so much.

But this, this was going to end now.

Asra squares his shoulders, moves his hair out of his eyes; he will tell you, he will tell you that he loves you, tell you that he will be there for you even if you don't love him back, his heart is big enough for the both of you and if he has to look as you find your happiness elsewhere, with somebody else, he will.

He grips the flowers when the shop enters his vision, but suddenly-

His stomach drops as he walks faster, twist the knob to enter and you aren’t there.

He breathes, calms himself.

Surely you are at the palace, helping Julian find a cure, ever so selfless.

So he keeps on walking, ignores the way his skin is covered in goosebumps, the way his throat is dry, no matter how many times he tries to swallow.

Of course, everyone at the palace knows who he is, so he enters quickly, his breathing labored.

He sees a dark figure with red hair bent over a desk and his knuckles hurt, the flowers bending.

“Julian, long time no see.” He says, wills his face to smile.

“I was searching for-”

“Don’t.” Julian answers, covering his face in his hands.

“Don’t?” he repeats, his heart running in his chest, eyes wide; he doesn't recognize the uncontrolled edge in his own voice.

“I am sorry, you know that I am sorry! I’d do anything Asra, anything!”

The flowers hit the ground the moment Asra’s hands grip Julian’s clothes, their faces inches apart.

“What are you saying?” he demands, he pleas, and Julian tries to hide his face again.

“The boat went to the Lazaret a week ago. It’s too late.”

No.

No,no,no,no,no,no-

Julian’s body hits the ground while Asra runs, runs down the stairs, runs and keeps running even as his knees hit the ground, time and time again.

This isn't happening, you aren't gone because he would have known, he would have felt it deep inside his chest and his bones and his lungs, he just needs to find you and you will be there, waiting for him with that smile that makes him want to live and stay and be back for dinner because you are his home, his family, the only thing that makes sense to him.

He runs to the first boat he sees and begs the driver to take him to the Lazaret, begs him and gives him everything that he has, empties his pockets of all his little trinkets, begs until his voice is hoarse.

The boast goes on slowly and Asra grips the wood with all his might and the moment he knows that the water is shallow enough he jumps and he can sense you, you are here, in this gloomy place, you hate places like this, you hate them and you shouldn’t be here and once when he finds he’ll take you away, he’ll bring you home and he will never go away again, to without you, he will promise you this, he will kiss and cry and promise and he will-

Asra takes a step back, and then another, his head shaking violently because how can he feel like you are right in front of him when you aren’t there-

He drops to his knees.

His fingers hit the sand before he can think about it, he digs and digs and digs and his eyes are so full of tears that he can barely see, the sand moves with shades of red until he finds something, something white and curved and the sand is darker and its almost grey and the smell of burned flesh fills his lungs and the taste of acid covers his tongue as he folds, his face in the ashes of what he loves the most.

He didn't even notice how he kept screaming your name, now barely a whisper.

Asra looks at his hands, at the blood and the ash and the bones-

This will not end here.

His hands close around the ashes, around the sand, trying to hold you to his chest.

This isn’t the end; his eyes are wide open.

He will bring you back.

[rosemariad]

SUPERNATURAL SEASON 15 - final season - bitter end part 2

See p1 here | https://www.tumblr.com/rosemariad/761290454081929216/supernatural-season-15-final-season-part-1-i

OH MY LORD – FINALLY – a FUCKING APOLOGY, from Dean. Winchester.

And it happened in purgaytory 😉 lol. Moment of silence for dead Benny :/

I wish we could've gotten a shot of Cas listening to him. We've always seen Dean pray to Cas but we never see Cas hear them on his end, like when Jack was hearing Sam's prayer. I think that would've been dope as fuck to see Castiel's reaction. When Cas & Dean finally do catch up to one another, Cas seems so...reserved. I feel like He knew DAMN well (like 90%) what Dean might say (or maybe he's so in denial about the possibility that Dean could return his affections in that way)

How are we almost halfway to the end and this is the first time we’ve seen Jack at all during this FINAL season? You introduce him in episode 12.23, you kill him (twice) and we don’t even get to see how he’s doing? We know he’s in the empty from 14x20’s closing montage.

15x10 was a pretty decent episode since we got to see Garth again ☺️ & he's settled into the domestic life with his wife Bessie - they had twins and a older daughter & neither child is named after Dean (🤣 Serves him right these days, since he's being such a douche!) wonder why Garth chose to name his baby after Cas though…did they ever interact? I don't recall…Watching Sam meet baby Sam is precious

(also how wild is it that the Garth & Benny actors are a married couple now? SPN man, they should've had a dating show given how many relationships came outta 1 production that lasted 15 yrs!)

Watching Sam sniff and cough & sneeze post-COVID is wild!

Taking on that giant monster was Hilarious - this was what SPN was missing - definitely peak content! Look at those hunter guys get reduced to regular chumps 🤣 fantastic!

Was Dean scared of the dentist? Had he ever BEEN to a dentist? Wow John, you couldn't take your son to a damn dentist - with all the junk food that boy eats? Even so, you want him running around without teeth?

Watching Sam writhe around with some cure all Bessie learned from her dad (he's dead I guess?) was equally hilarious!

WTF was with Dean's hallucination? These writers are trippin - out of all the things you could've done, you make Dean & Garth tap dance? What was the point? And some oldies shit? Sure Dean would've been exposed to reruns of the good ol' days but that’s never really been his interest before? And the lamp at the end? TF? I've read some posts about what others thinking it all means but I say the artistic direction is wack. But all aside the dentist Garth bit is awesome!

Garth couldn't have said it better - being the hero/protagonist is a drag - more so for comic book heroes cuz of the tragic backstory but in the Winchesters' case - it suuuuuuuuuucks.

I'm all for some Winchester humble pie. SPN should be normal people problems show mixed with cooky supernatural shenanigans. It would never get old 😂

Dean why did you think you could gobble down 7 grilled cheese sandwiches - all that dairy - oh man. So I guess that's normal for him…bad, real bad. Normal Dean would be dead in a week 🤣🤣

Anyway Garth swooping in to save the day for a change, is a welcome change ☺️ [is this the last time we'll see him in the show though? 😥]

Interesting how they seem to keep switching back & forth between how hopeless the odds are in going against the big G.O.D. to no we're gonna find a way cuz we're the Winchesters & that’s what we do. Yeah okay 🤣

Jack's been hunting & eating Grigori hearts - damn. Not looking forward to why…

Meanwhile we get more backstory on all the other gods in human history through Fortuna, goddess of luck/fortune? Interesting, it seems like God allowed others to be worshipped so they could suffer the bad PR when things when wrong for people & they would get the blame (pretty sure plenty people still blame God for bad stuff all the time — like Dean 😅).

Good for Sam fighting for those people stuck under Fortuna's thumb. Small victories though…

Kaia survived, but I know we'll never see her again now. No reunion w/ Claire, or the others…wah 😔 meanwhile Alt!Kaia is definitely dead, we saw her face her end - way to take out that plot device writers 🙄

Dean seems pretty gung-ho on taking out God & Amara - buddy I know you feel helpless but there is no cosmic entity that is gonna be on your side all the time. The control freak inside him is going rabid y'all he's convinced that it’s the only way out but neglects to answer the question - if God (and Amara - cold by the way - is he punishing her for Mary? Amara was the one who brought her back in the first place) is taken out, what happens to the universe?

Jack is still giving me those intern vibes - Cas WTF were you thinking? I know you didn't forget about that deal…but damn if he ain't a team player, always willing to risk it all to help his precious Dean bean & the baby bro Sam.

I love how the brothers took Jo/Anael at her word - like really? There was no other way to investigate the veracity of her story than by simply going to hell? Really? Also they couldn't squeeze in Rowena for 1 final appearance? Boo!

And what was Anael's last line about? What friends could she possibly be talking about? Did God have her set this up? Lead the guys on a wild goose chase to waste time? Who fucking knows anymore, but I guess it doesn't matter as this is technically Anael (& Ruby's) final scene in the show.

Ruby you're screwed - there's no way she got out and no way to know - anyway onto the plot!

Look at this family shot - precious!

So between this episode & 12x07 Sam's superpower is handling doors - keeps them open when he needs to & closed when he has to. Sam, keeper of the doors!

The Empty & Death Billie teamed up? Oh shit, that's gonna backfire fast!

Classic Dean Winchester move to call your beloved an idiot when you almost lost him….again. I can't keep track of the various close calls this angel had over the years.

Best gem of 15x13 - the Alternate Sam & Dean - affluent dudes who were raised by a successful business savvy John Winchester who raised his sons with a modicum of respect & some fashion sense it seems all the while building a supernatural hunting empire spanning the entire globe (damn). And at the end they went to Brazil? So canonically there's 2 sets of Sams & Deans running around - too bad nothing else will come out of that…they should've stolen the Impala - that shit would've been hilarious.

After all these years we finally got to see THE Garden of Eden. It would've been cool to see it sooner in the show but oh well. The trip seems to have given Jack the ability to feel again, get his soul back. And he is wracked with guilt over Mary as if we didn’t have enough of that to deal with…

The words you're looking for guys is I FORGIVE YOU! Like he's a kid, it was an accident & he's clearly fucking sorry for it, the guilt is tearing him apart, you're not blind you can see it but God forbid either Winchester just says the magic words.

Now Mrs. Butters - I'm not cool with that shit at all. I peeped immediately based on the 1st scene that she wasn't there willingly. Why would she? She's a fucking wood nymph and while there's a bunch of trees outside, the bunker sure as shit ain't no forest. Someone forced her to work in that bunker & the fact that imagery of Cuthbert Sinclair keeps coming up confirms it.

She was probably their slave - that's so fucked. And Sinclair tortured her into obedience. That poor creature…she deserved so much better. shame on Sam & Dean for using that poor woman - you can't find the time to cook & clean up after yourselves? - I know Dean is good at it. But no, SPN had to set women back decades and force Mrs. Butters into waiting on them hand and foot. Shame, damn shame. Thankfully they eventually let her go, but only cuz Jack's life was in jeopardy and god forbid the Winchesters lose their handy ace in the hole when their maid/slave gets murderous. Really Dean, ‘just start over’?!, she threatened your kid you dumbass, do you really want someone to take care of you that fucking bad? WTF?!?!

All those feasts & Cas never showed up once -- bullshit!!!! Bullshit I say!

Apparently when Cas does eventually return to the screen & wraps up some trouble w/ Jack (aww he wanted to wear matching ties! And he has a teddy bear? Did Cas give him one? He gave one to Claire a couple of seasons ago) jack spills that he's meant to die & sacrifice himself to take out God & Amara. I know you're not on board Cas but speak up. Why is everyone so afraid to stand up to Dean Jesus Christ. He's just a man, sure he'll punch you but that just means you hit back or you know, don't let him punch you!

We get 1 final glimpse into Sam & Dean's childhood. Pro tip Dean: if you want your baby bro to stick around, don't ridicule his goals or call him stupid. Just a thought (I know he's a kid himself but that's what I would've said to the kid) but hey ultimately none of it matters right, jeez 😒

The lady lied to the brothers to get them to show up, did you ever think to incentivize them with money? It wouldn't take much, they probably wouldn't even take it or you know just tell them the truth, they're hunters it's what they do.

It's the baba yaga? It almost got to Dean but thankfully Sam was conveniently there to break the spell or whatever was gonna try to make Dean kill himself. The vic, Travis, apparently had the entity's ring all this time so it's back for revenge? And to eat ofc it's hungry. Too bad she failed cuz she's dead as one of the final MOTW ever on SPN. And just when we thought Dean made progress he ruins it by being supremely committed to Billie's plan -- cuz God forbid Sam bring up ethical questions into plotting someone's murder Dean, even if it is about cosmic entities and you know, your kid, Jack. Will the real Dean Winchester stand up cuz I think he wouldn't do this under any other circumstances. If I were Sam I would've jumped out of that car in pure disgust. Sam seemed inclined to do that.

Anyway the Jack suicide bomb plan ultimately didn't matter either cuz Amara ends up siding w/ Chuck after he makes her see that Dean was actually planning on killing her along w/ her brother.

Side bar - I love how she just had a whole season's long vacation just enjoying what the planet had to offer before her end. Can't say she didn't try to work things out - with the Winchesters or God. But hey, I know what's up - it's all about the men in this show 🙄

Saying Jack's not family - how fucking dare you! but also another example of inconsistent behavior from Dean - 1 minute he's concerned, the next he's dismissive & neglectful, then the next he cares (emotional whiplash), then he sees Jack as nothing more than a loose-end for fuck's sake Dean pick a lane & make up your damn mind, fuck!

Anyways, Sam should've smacked the shit outta Dean. He deserves it. But I get it Dean, you can't live w/o Sam or Cas but watching Jack die is no big since he took your mommy away, whatever asshole. Then he feels bad, but I feel it's only cuz he can't sit pretty on his high horse knowing the kid heard how little Dean cares for him right now.

Why did Sam & Cas let Jack run off w/ Dean? I sure wouldn't have 😡.

So because Billie's plan went tits up (big surprise there & really Billie you were expecting them not to fuck up, really?) God escaped & in the next, infamous episode of 15x18 people start getting Thanos'd. Endgamed. Disappeared.

Alt!Charlie & her girlfriend Stevie - gone. Eileen, Sam's current GF, gone. Alt!Bobby, gone. The other folks from Apocalypse World - gone.

But Donna gets got too - because Sam & Dean intervened all the way back in her premiere episode (was that season 8? I forget). Did everyone just get disappeared - like everyone Sam, Dean & John saved (that's my headcanon anyhow)? But it doesn’t even stop there…

Hold up - wait a minute - I’m gonna talk about the Destiel moment in 15x18 but I’m gonna save it for a separate post cuz I got to get all that stuff off my chest…https://www.tumblr.com/rosemariad/761296693532803072/the-bitter-end-spn-15x18-despair-about-that

Anywho:

Everyone gets disappeared. I see they were inspired by that Avengers movie 😅 I wonder if they went through the same experience the Marvel folk did canonically…(its that no one remembers what happened to them if they got blipped right?)

15x19 felt so rushed to me did anyone else feel that way?

Jack asks what happened to Cas (RIP you beautiful angel 😭) but Dean just offers a simple explanation. After countless days of misery and drinking, Jack prompts the brothers to drive around and Dean finds a dog only to have it disappear like everyone else - there's no way Chuck missed the dog, he just wanted Dean to bond with her so he could feel her loss too. Damn. So vengeful.

The Winchesters say they surrender but at this point I wouldn't believe them and apparently it was all part of their master plan. They ran into Michael (who's lost Adam at this point RIP Adam, again) and Dean calls Michael out as a daddy's boy but you would know wouldn't you Dean 🤣 game recognize game

When Dean got that phone call & ran up those steps, oh Dean you poor miserable bastard.

The devil, conveniently back from the void from whence he came, scrounges up a reaper - why are there reapers at this point (isn’t everyone gone anyways?) was she brought from the Empty? Kill her so she can be Death # 3 and open up the mysterious book that describes God's imminent demise but the devil killed her one more time before she could finish cuz he's God's favorite now (so he says Chuck says 🙄) pissing off Michael but as the brothers explained later this would all work in their favor but RIP Jessica - last female figure to be killed off on SPN? She basically died for nothing as Sam & dean came up w/ a new plan.

While the archangels squab, Michael gets the upper hand and finally kills Lucifer (so how was this fight going to devastate the planet cuz the bunker didn't even get messed up or nothing - very underwhelming since this is technically the last we’ll see of the devil in the show) & later Michael snitches to God when everyone drives out to summon Chuck to try killing him off once and for all. Then Michael dies cuz God is tired of him I guess (sure he said it’s cuz Michael dique betrayed him but I mean do you even care about that?) sucks for Mike I guess 🤷🏽‍♀️

All the celestial fighting was apparently powering up Jack after he juiced himself up for that bomb & couldn't kill off God sooner. by the end of the episode Jack siphons the remaining energy out of Chuck and instead of squashing him like a bug they all just decide to walk away, leaving Chuck Shurley a mortal, ordinary man to die off on his own (omg the way he squealed as he ditched him, geez 🤦🏾‍♀️).

This is why you should've just destroyed them Chuck! You'd think he'd know better than to savor their doom. Tsk tsk.

I would've shot him, burned him and had Jack disintegrate the ashes to nothing. But fuck being thorough I guess 🤣

Jack brings everyone back & leaves the brothers (I would've done the same, fuck those Winchesters, Sam's alright but Dean is just ugh at this point) & Aside from Rowena I can't think of anyone else who ends up with a win like Jack. He was born the Nephilim of Lucifer but ended up becoming a noble God.

I also gotta vent about that last episode - https://www.tumblr.com/rosemariad/761299089485889536/supernatural-season-15-the-bitter-end-series

[partially-controlled-chaos]

Come Back to Me pt. 3

Pairing: Astarionxf!Tav

Rating: M

Warnings: Hurt/angst, comfort, trauma, fluff, trauma, soft jealous Astarion

Summary: After an attack in the Shadow Cursed Lands, Tavriel is exposed to the toxins of fear inducing mushroom spores, causing her already weakened mind to relive the traumatic horrors of her past. Astarion and Halsin are forced to work quickly to cure her mind of the spores before the effects remain with her permanently.

Also read on AO3! Check there for more frequent updates because I sometimes forget to also post them here.

I also recommend reading my previous fic for some backstory on my Tav! Not totally necessary, but if you’d like some backstory you can find it here!

Masterlist

Come Back to Me: Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Astarion was quietly seething as he followed behind the druid, his face knitted into a tight scowl as he stepped across jagged rocks and fallen tree branches. Of all people he could be paired with on this excursion, it just had to be Halsin. He had lingered around Last Light just briefly, too consumed with worry after hearing Tavriel’s horror filled screams, while the rest of the group had already sectioned off into teams of two, leaving Astarion with Halsin as a companion. He already had a grudge against Halsin for being a threat to his relationship with Tavriel, but he also fully blamed Halsin for Tavriel being as sick as she was. If he had been a better companion, he would have kept her safe. This, of course, was simply a deflection of Astarion’s own feelings of being incompetent for Tavriel because he let her go out to begin with.

“Do you see anything, Astarion?” Halsin called back to him as he swept a torch across the landscape, “Have you found any black oleander?”

“If I had don’t you think I would have said something?” The vampire spawn sneered, his lip upturned into a snarl.

“You’ve just been unusually quiet,” Halsin said as they continued, “I was making sure you hadn’t stumbled across something. You’re sure you know what you’re looking for?”

“Of course I do! I may not be rolling around outside all day like you, but I’m not dim witted enough to not know what we’re looking for.” Truthfully, Astarion hadn’t known what black oleander even was until a few days ago, but he wouldn’t dare admit it, “And I’m not in a particularly chatty mood. My mind happens to be on other, more important, things than idle chit chat and niceties.”

“I will not blame you for your anger, Astarion. You’re worried about Tavriel. You’re a bonded pair, are you not?” Halsin asked with a laugh, taking no offense to the snippy remarks coming from the elf. 

“I would be a fool to not be worried about her. She’s the only thing that actually keeps this little band together. If something happens to her, well, we’d all be lost.” Astarion’s voice had softened slightly. The thought of actually losing Tavriel felt like a knife to the chest. He’d finally found something and someone to give a damn about and the idea of her being taken down by a patch of mushrooms felt like a cruel joke sent by the gods as a continued punishment. 

“Is that all you’re worried about? If she can continue to serve a purpose?” Halsin shot a sideways glance to Astarion, surprised at his response. He had seen the way Astarion would look and speak with Tavriel and it was painfully clear he had some inclination of feelings for her, so the abrupt cut to how she was useful was odd.

“No. Don’t be stupid. If you had let me finish I would have answered your question.” He snapped, “We are, if you’re so interested in knowing, but I’d like to keep the spicy little details to myself, thank you.”

“I am, actually, it’s something I wanted to speak to you about.” Halsin said as he stepped to the side of the path they were on, his eyes scanning for the plant they were after, “Look, over there off the trail, there’s a small patch of oleander.” Astarion followed the druid into the small patch of plants, being mindful not to step on the few precious ones they had managed to find.

Astarion’s stomach was suddenly in knots, Halsin’s statement setting him on edge. He was already afraid of losing Tavriel to Halsin. After all, Halsin did seem much more compatible than he did at fulfilling Tavriel’s needs and desires. When compared to the druid, Astarion felt inferior. Halsin had his share of trauma in his past he was sure, but whatever it was, it couldn’t come close to the baggage he was bringing in his relationship to Tavriel. Centuries of using sex and deception to lure unsuspecting victims to the Szarr palace only to surrender them as a quick meal for his master certainly must have weight heavily on Tav, would it not? His trauma was so similar to Tavriel’s that he was always afraid that his past and hesitations would be unwelcome reminders of her own life of misery. 

But of course, Astarion knew that it didn’t end there. He and Tavriel were so fundamentally different that he was surprised she had shared his enthusiasm for wanting a real relationship all those months ago. After all, he was bitter and mean spirited, not often caring about the well being of others. Purely selfish actions for purely selfish reasons had always been his style and he genuinely didn’t see that changing anytime soon. Tavriel, on the other hand, had displayed selfish actions herself when they first met, later admitting she had engaged in a romance with Astarion for the same reasons he had. With that aside, Tavriel was generally a good hearted person who had unselfish actions for unselfish reasons. They were polar opposites and yet had somehow found themselves attracted to each other through a history of trauma bonding and a mind flayer tadpole wiggling about their brains.

But Halsin? Halsin was a good man. He had spent a century of putting his own needs and desires aside to address the issue of the Shadow Curse. He was kind, especially to Tavriel, always greeting her with a warm smile and friendly embrace. He truly cherished her friendship and the help she had so selflessly offered to him, a total stranger. Astarion knew Halsin had an attraction to her, he could see it all over his face whenever Tavriel came bounding over to him with that pretty smile on her lips he oh, so adored. Halsin had the capacity to understand Tavriel in ways that Astarion couldn’t even fathom. They both had an innate connection to nature and if anyone could help her regain the connection she had lost in captivity, it wouldn’t take a scholar to know that Halsin was clearly the better match.

“Grab as much as you can, we’ll need more for the remedy to be fully effective, but we should collect all of this if something goes wrong.” Halsin said as he crouched, using his torch to illuminate the area and chase away any lingering shadows. Astarion also crouched to the ground, quickly cutting and securing the richly purple plants into his travel pouch.

“You’re sure this isn’t enough? How complex is this concoction of yours?” 

“No,” Halsin said as he pulled the last plant from the cursed land, “we’ll need more. She needs a potent dose if we intend to cure her fully.” This made Astarion’s heart drop once again. Halsin had been so calm leading up to this point, making Astarion believe that despite Tavriel’s behavior, curing her would be seemingly simple.

“…She’s worse than you’re letting on, isn’t she?” Astarion asked quietly as they continued their search for black oleander.

“I didn’t want to alarm the others, the last thing we need is for everyone to be in a blind panic, but yes, I am worried. I’ve seen many friends and allies fall victim to the spores, but I’ve never seen them set in so quickly. We will truly need the Oak Father’s blessing if this is to work.” Astarion gripped his torch tightly at Halsin’s confession, his pace quickening as his eyes desperately scanned the ground for more of the plants. They had to hurry and collect what they needed to return to Tav. He could only pray that his companions also found their plants and herbs with haste.

“There, by those rocks, I see much more.” Astarion pointed to a cluster of large rocks, their base littered with the plants he so desperately wanted to find. The two men wasted no time in gathering more of the herbs, pausing only briefly to scan their surroundings as shrieks from the shadows kicked up. Deeming there was no longer a threat, they continued ripping the plants from the ground.

“What did you want to discuss with me? About Tavriel?” Astarion asked after a few moments of silence, his mind unable to let the comment leave his mind.

“I was curious about your feelings towards her, and ultimately your relationship, because I wanted to know if I should ask for your consent.” Astarion froze, hands unmoving as he held a firm grip on the base of an oleander plant.

“My consent?” he asked through gritted teeth and fangs, “Consent for what, exactly?”

“For something more.” Halsin said calmly, “To go beyond the fabric of a simple alliance and friendship and into something more…intimate. If you would be all right with that, of course. I wish not to step on any toes.”

“Are you asking me if she could cast me aside? And replace my spot with you? Is that what you’re saying?” Astarion’s voice almost went up an octave as he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him, his worst fears regarding Tavriel materializing in front of him.

“Of course not, that is not my intention. I mean to join the two of you, if you would be open to it, and carry on a union as nature intended. Without the restrictions of societal norms and expectations for a relationship to only be two people. Tavriel is extraordinary, a true delight and a kind soul, and she has unknowingly shaken me to my core. I would like to share, not take away. But if anything were to happen, I would need your approval. Whether you personally want to join us or not is up to you, depending on what you are comfortable with, and her as well. You have become her mate, so to speak, and I would not wish to intrude if it’s not something you are comfortable with.” Halsin had paused his plant collection, taking the time to look at Astarion carefully as he spoke, wanting to broach the subject without seeming too nonchalant about it.

“Not now, of course, I must finish the matter of the Shadow Curse before I can even begin to entertain such notions, but I wanted to put my offer on the table, figuratively speaking. So my intentions are not misunderstood by either of you. I had begun to run this by Tavriel right before we were attacked.” Astarion’s mind was spinning. This was something he had been fearing for a long time, but was also something he had hoped was only a deep rooted fear that would never come to fruition. And yet, here he was, kneeling in dirt beside the man that could easily take away his entire world.

Astarion didn’t care about a persons sexual preference or how they wanted to be in a relationship, it didn’t matter to him. Halsin wanting a multi-partner relationship wasn’t what was so upsetting to him. What was potentially world shattering, however, is that Halsin wanted to be in a multi-partner relationship with the one person Astarion wanted to be selfish about. He had finally found someone he could be free and open with. He was comfortable around Tavriel, relished in her kindness and warmth, and he wanted to keep that all to himself. He felt a burning rage deep inside at the thought of someone else knowing her intimately. The idea of someone else feeling her kind and gentle lips pressing against various parts of their body made him squirm. Or, which could arguably be his worst fear, if she experiences mind blowing, back arching, shaking, orgasmic pleasure from someone who wasn’t him. He didn’t fully appreciate their moments of passion when they first met, having only done it to secure protection, but he was beginning to once again open up to the idea and he didn’t want anyone else to dip into that fantasy. Astarion wanted to be unapologetically selfish with the first genuinely good thing to come into his life. However, if Tavriel felt otherwise and wanted more than what he alone could offer, he wouldn’t stop her. She had been through as much pure hell as he had and he would feel wrong if he kept her from being truly happy for the simple sake of him wanting to keep her to himself.

“And what did she say? What was her answer to your little question?” Astarion could feel his hands begin to shake, genuinely terrified of what Halsin might say next. 

“She didn’t,” Halsin said plainly as he continued to pull plants, “we were attacked before she could respond. I couldn’t tell you her answer, it’s something that will have to be addressed after she is cured.”

“Well,” Astarion said after some silence, “I have absolutely no intentions of joining in on your little group party. However, if Tavriel wishes to join your side as well as mine, I won’t stop her. She deserves to be happy, the world hasn’t been kind to her if you didn’t know, and I will not be the one thing that stands in her way.”

“If you truly mean it, my heart is happy and appreciative. Again, this will not be something that happens soon, I have more important things that need to be taken care of than desires of the flesh, but the offer will always be open to you. I will talk to Tavriel again once she is better. That should be our first priority, curing her.” Halsin stood as he and Astarion picked the last of the plants that were needed for the remedy, “Let’s return to the inn, we have what we came for. May the Oak Father guide the others back as well with a fruitful harvest.”

The two men set off towards Last Light without another word spoken between them. Halsin was walking with a purpose, eager to return to the inn and get the remedy for the fear spores in the pot. Astarion, who was also rushing to return to Tavriel, was distraught. He was thankful they were able to find the required items without much hassle, but the potential of losing Tavriel in more ways than one was sitting heavily on his mind. He desperately wanted to know what Tavriel’s answer to Halsin’s offer would have been. He wanted to know what she was thinking and where her heart was going. He hurriedly walked to the inn with Halsin, his fingers digging into his palm as he walked.

************************************************************************

“We have everything.” Halsin said as he and the rest of the party filed in the front door of Last Light Inn and handed their collected ingredients to the arch druid, “Give me a few moments to brew these into a tea. I’ll bring it up to her when it’s done. Can someone check on her? I no longer hear her and it’s concerning.” Astarion wasted no time in departing from the group, practically flying up the stairs in the process. If his heart could beat, it would be pounding in his ears. When they had left the inn, Tavriel could be heard from the courtyard. But now? There was silence.

Astarion gently pressed his ear to the door of the bed chambers he shared with Tavriel, listening for any sounds from inside, but was met with an uncomfortable silence. He tried the handle, finding it had been locked from the inside, presumably to slow Tav down if she tried to dart out the door in her altered state. After a soft knock, Lae’zel opened the door, cautiously glancing back to Tavriel to be sure she didn’t charge the door before allowing Astarion in. He quickly slipped inside, making sure to secure the door behind him. The state of the room caught him off guard, making him freeze on the spot as he surveyed the damage.

Jagged fingernail marks along the wooden floor, books that had been thrown across the room, the center carpet was crumpled and shoved to the side, and even broken glass from a wine bottle that had been smashed against a wall. Astarion had cleaned the room before Tavriel and Halsin returned, wanting her to return to a safe space, but the work was undone seemingly by Tavriel herself. Small spots of Tavriel’s blood were scattered across the room, dripping from her destroyed fingertips and other scratches she had inflicted upon herself. Tavriel herself was seated in the center of the room, resting on her knees and shins, her hands pressed to the floor as her arms struggled to support her upper body. She was mostly silent, the only sounds being emitted where slow shallow breaths and the occasional whimper. Her eyes were half lidded, ready to close at any given moment and succumb to a deep sleep. Her mind and body were absolutely exhausted from her actions and Astarion feared that she wouldn’t have the strength to fight the spores much longer.

“How long has she been like this?” Astarion asked as Lae’zel returned to her previous spot on the floor across from Tavriel. 

“Not very long. She’s been scrambling about and destroying anything she could find until a few moments ago. She’s weakening. Did you find the herbs?” Lae’zel asked hopefully.

“Yes, thankfully,” Astarion said as he crouched, trying to get a closer look at Tavriel’s face, “Halsin is preparing a remedy now.” He reached out carefully, almost afraid she may snap at his fingers. He gently placed his hand under her chin, lifting her heavy head until her fully clouded eyes met his gaze. Tavriel’s face was stained with tears and her skin was hot to the touch, even for his perpetually cool fingers. 

She looked as if she was a step from death’s door and Astarion felt his chest ache. He felt so unbelievably helpless, unable to do anything to help his love from slipping away. He was reliant on someone else for her salvation, and the idea made him sick to his stomach. Over the years under Cazador’s control, Astarion only ever needed to rely on himself to stay as safe as a vampire spawn could be. Relying on someone was a weakness and it took the little bit of control he did have away from him. The feeling here was no different. Having to rely on Halsin to get a working antidote into Tavriel before everything was too late made him uneasy and on edge. With a slight delay, Tavriel pulled her head from Astarion’s light grasp, the movement making her lose her balance and falter in her stance. She landed on her forearms with a soft grunt, her legs sliding out from underneath her until she was almost face down on the floor. She weakly tried to back away, the voices in her head still screaming that she was in danger, but her body wouldn’t allow her to move. Instead, she rested on her arms and took more labored breaths. 

“Where in the hells is the damn druid?” Astarion hissed as he sat back, his anger caused by his inability to actually help started to seep out.

“I will check on him. Stay with her, she seems to have calmed down enough.” Lae’zel stood without another word, quickly exiting the room to speak with Halsin, leaving Astarion and Tavriel to themselves. They sat in silence, Tavriel too weak to say anything and Astarion too afraid of driving her further into madness with his touch or voice. He dug his nails into his palm again as he clenched his fist closed, feeling more and more incompetent the more time that passed.

“Tell me what to do, love.” He whispered as Tavriel let out a small groan as she shifted again, “Tell me how to help you. I don’t know what to do. I need you to come back to me, but tell me how. You promised me you would come back, my love, you promised.” Tears began to well in his eyes, threatening to fall down his face as he watched her writhe in pain and mental agony. Tavriel’s body ached from slamming into doors and scratching her fingers raw. The scars that adorned her body were throbbing, feeling as if they were being made for the first time again. Her breathing quickened as fire seemed to be burning through the scars on her shoulder blades, the pain almost unbearable as her mind twisted and warped, forcing her to relive that horrible night. With a sudden burst of energy, she sat up, almost throwing herself backwards as her hands reached over her shoulders to claw at the marks on her back, her armor thankfully keeping her from digging into the flesh. She tried her best to scream at the memory, but her voice was raw and hoarse, causing only more discomfort. 

“Godsdamn it, Cazador was right, you are useless. Pathetic. Weak. You can’t save her.” Astarion thought to himself as the tears forming came dangerously close to falling. His insecure thoughts came flooding back with full force, further twisting the pain settling in his dead heart. He didn’t know what to do or how to save her by himself. She deserved so much better care than what she was getting from him. She deserved someone that wasn’t weak and cowering, afraid to even touch her when she was begging for help. He truly believed he didn’t deserve someone as wonderful and extraordinary as Tavriel and she deserved someone so much better. She deserved someone would keep her safe and satisfied. Halsin was downstairs now, making a concoction that would ease her mind and suffering, something that can heal her. He immediately knew what needed to be done to save her, where to go, what plants were needed, and how to sew those plants into something useful. Halsin could protect her. Halsin could keep her safe. And yet, here was Astarion, sitting as still as a stone as his lover screamed in agony and fear. His vile thoughts continued to bombard his mind as he sat and watched Tavriel suffer.

Astarion was frozen with fear, truly not knowing what to do to help. He was afraid to touch her, fearing that his touch would alight her skin more and cause more suffering. The tears that lined his eyes finally betrayed him, sliding down his cheeks as Tavriel’s own sobs assaulted his ears. She was trembling, her entire body almost convulsing as she continued to rake her sore and bloodied fingers across the armor. She was frenzied in her movements, completely unrecognizable as the Tavriel that Astarion had grown to love. Against his own trepidations, he reached out with a shaking arm, hoping that making contact with her could pull her from the memory. However, the moment was short lived and his extended hand came back to clutch at his own head, which was now swimming with an uncomfortable twinge. The tadpole swimming around in his brain had made contact with the one infecting Tavriel, linking their minds. Astarion’s consciousness was thrust into the absolute chaos that was swimming in Tavriel’s fracturing mind, allowing him to see inside her memories and granting him access to the nightmare she was reliving.