#again really good for what it is! but a completely different thing

[bronzealchemy]

The Masquerade

Simon „Ghost“ Riley and hacker!fem reader are on an undercover mission at a masquerade ball and things get a little heated.

content: grumpy x sunshine, fluff, banter, undercover mission, explicit content, light smut, dirty talk, fingering, knee riding

wc: 2k

a/n: I feel my Ghost hyperfixation coming back guys, so something different for today!

This mission was supposed to be simple. One evening, one hell of a lot of money and while I’m at it – do something good that’ll save a lot of people’s lives. Simple, right? Wrong. Because the man on whose arm I am just now is nothing but simple. And he hates babysitting me.

„Would it hurt you to maybe – I don’t know – smile a little?“, I ask, while Ghost gets even more tense.

„It would“, he grunts, clearly not amused. I wonder if there was ever a time he smiled. Not that I can see his frown under the skull mask he’s wearing … but still. He has a look in his dark eyes that tells me he has seen shit a normal person would never get over. But this – getting intel, finding out if this party’s host really is selling experimental weapons – is his job, while mine lies in a completely different field. Namely in the decryption key that is hidden inside my dress. A place where not even security found it when Ghost and I stepped foot into the ballroom.

„Did you see him yet?“, I whisper while stepping on my tiptoes. God, this man is huge. A mountain, really. The suit seems almost too snug for his wide shoulders and his enormous biceps. I wonder what those look like under the black fabric.

„Stop whispering so bloody loud.“ He sneers. At least I think he does, its hard to say under that skull mask of his.

„I‘m not sure if you remember, but I am a hacker, not a … what was your job description again? Secret black Ops making stuff explode expert?“

„Fuckin‘ hell“, he mutters under his breath, his eyes darkening, which ironically makes me smile. I caress his arm.

„Don’t you worry, big boy. I’ll keep you safe.“

We keep on walking through the crowd, the ballroom full of whispers and orchestra music. The melody fills the air, while I overlook all the guests. Some of their masks have ornate symbols on them, others show animals or mythical creatures. Mine is black with soft glitter particles that shimmer lilac when light falls on it. It’s adorned with thorns and delicate flower petals and I smiled when I put it on. One pretty thing for an evening that could turn really ugly with one wrong move. Yes, I make jokes with the Lieutenant next to me, but that is mostly because of nerves.

„You’re shaking“, Ghost mutters next to me, lowering his head to my ear. His breath tickles my skin, and a shiver runs down my spine.

„I’m nervous“, I admit.

„There’s no reason to be, love.“

I scrunch my nose at the petname, but this is our cover. We’re supposed to be a couple tonight. I should smile, so I do, but it feels forced.

He lets out a breath. „You’re a horrendous actress.“

„Thank you, baby“, I say as if he’s not just insulted me, while he directs me to the dance floor. We’re just two people enjoying each others company. It’s completely normal for a couple to dance, right? But the way my heart almost leaps out of my chest when his hand rests on my back doesn’t feel that way. I tip my chin up and look into those dark eyes of his. His eyes scan the room. Fully focused, while swirling me around between all those other couples. How does he do that? I can’t paint my nails while watching a tv show, and here he is, scanning hundreds of people at the same time while dancing without stepping on my feet.

I start to look around. And that‘s when I see him. Vasiliev. Our target for tonight. A man in his mid fifties, face hidden behind a black mask with devils horns and leaning on a cane. That cane … that’s where he hides the intel. Out briefing said he never leaves that thing outside his reach, no one is allowed to touch it, not even his right hand man. While Ghost keeps twirling me around in his arms, Vasiliev starts to move.

„He’s leaving“, I whisper.

Ghosts grip hardens around my body, his gaze follows Vasiliev. „Come on.“

He grabs my hand, his fingers intertwining with mine, and my cheeks warm. His hand is so big that it seems to swallow mine whole. My mouth feels dry, while Ghost guides me through the crowd. I need to focus. Find Vasiliev, use the decryption key on his cane, leave. That is the mission. Not thinking about how big his hands are or how sad his pretty eyes look.

Vasiliev steps inside the floor that leads to the washrooms. I have to be quick. I let go of Ghosts hand, but he instantly grabs it again.

„You wanna tell me what the hell you're doing?“ His voice is deep and gravelly and it sounds as if he’s used to people following his orders.

„Just trust me with this, okay? We’ll be out of here in no time.“ Without saying another word, I free my hand from his and follow Vasiliev into the corridor.

There he is, the man in the devil mask, leaning on his cane, his right hand man at his side. I walk fast on my heels, get closer to him, take the decryption key out of my dress and trip, forcefully pushing against Vasiliev. His cane rattles to the ground, as do I.

„Oh my god!“, I stammer, while grabbing the cane and pushing the handle ever so slightly to the side, inserting the key with the other hand. „I’m so incredibly sorry.“

I get on my feet again, handing Vasiliev the cane back. „Please forgive me. I’m not used to wearing heels this high.“

Vasiliev looks me up and down and I hold my breath while his gaze stops at my black high heels. „Those could pass as a weapon, indeed.“ He takes the cane in his hand and looks me up again, so slowly, that heat rushes to my cheeks. „Would you mind telling me your name?“

I freeze.

„She would mind“, a gravelly voice sounds from behind me. Then, a strong arm wraps around my waist and pulls me closer to a hard toned body.

Vasiliev passes a look between Ghost and I. Then he nods slowly. „I see. It has been nice to make your acquaintance.“

„Sorry again“, I say.

Without another word, Ghost pulls me with him, while Vasiliev disappears into the washroom. Next thing I know, he pushes me against the wall.

„What the hell were you thinking?“, he growls.

My breath is stuck in my throat. Theres something I didn‘t see before in his eyes. Not sadness anymore, neither his focus while looking for Vasiliev. Instead, he looks almost … worried?

„Don’t tell me you were scared for me.“

His brows furrow as if I just said the most stupid thing he’s ever heard. „Bullshit.“

„Oh my god. You totally were!“, I exclaim and hit his chest playfully with my hand. „You were scared for me.“

„Stop this shit“, he snarls.

„Never. You were worried for me. That is so sweet.“ I get on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. The mask feels cold under my lips. Next thing I know, he pushes me back against the wall. His chest rises and falls in a faster pace.

„Stop talking so fucking much.“

I don’t know what happens next. One second he stands in front of me, chest heaving abruptly, in the next he lifts the bottom of his mask and his mouth is on mine. For the traction of a second I’m too stunned to do anything. But then … he moves his mouth on mine. And then I’m gone.

I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back with full force. He groans and the sound vibrates through me, wakes fire inside me. I can’t believe this is happening, but at the same time I devour every second of him claiming my mouth. He slides a knee between the slit in my dress, and when he hits me there, I sigh with delight. Ghost knows what he's doing. I realize that in every move of his, every swipe of his tongue against mine, every hit of his knee against my weak spot, every firm touch of his hands on my body. I melt. I melt and will be left as a puddle on this floor if he keeps going like that.

„I've never met anyone as annoying as you”, he grunts out.

„Doesn’t feel that way, Lieutenant“, I retort while reaching for his hard on. He feels rockhard and hot under my touch, and the way he sharply inhales lets me feel more powerful than while writing code that could shut a whole city down.

Again he kisses me. Again i can't get enough of his taste. He makes me completely dizzy with his mouth. His knee continues to move against me, and I groan.

„Feel good, love?“, he murmurs and I nod.

I want to scream: Yes. He almost lets me forget that there are hundreds of people here and that we’re on a mission.

The mission.

We’re both wired. Which means …

„Ghost.“ His name leaves my mouth breathless.

„I’m kind of busy right now, love.“ Again he pushes against me and I gasp. I press my mouth against his shoulder to stifle the sound.

„Ghost, they’re listening“, I whisper right against his ear.

„Then maybe you should be a little more quiet.“

That’s the only thing he says before his mouth is on mine again. Then I feel his hand there and I see stars. I bite into his lip, which makes him groan again. I love this sound. It sends a wave of pleasure through me. His large fingers are on me, circling skillfully, caressing me until I see stars and my knees feel weak. I want him inside me, but this is neither the right place nor the right time, and we both know it. Even though my brain is melting down right now, including any logical thought. I lean against him and at some point am not able to kiss him back properly, so I stifle my moans against his neck, biting down hard, while rubbing him through his trousers.

„Oh my god“, I exclaim, when the wave crushes over me and stars explode before my eyes. He keeps circling me, then pushing his knee between my legs again.

„That’s right, love“, he whispers into my ear. „Take it. Just like this.“ I push myself against him, until the waves of pleasure slowly start to fade. Then I lean against him, my legs shaking slightly. When I catch my breath, I lift my head to look into his face, just as he pulls down his mask again. But he can‘t fool me. I didn’t really see his face, but I felt it. I felt the soft curve of his lips, the scar on the left side, and the stubble that he’s hiding. I felt it so good that if I’d close my eyes, I probably would see his face in front of me.

„Great, if you two are finished, could you get the fuck out of there?“, a familiar, deep voice sounds in the earbud in my left ear.

„Sure thing, Captain“, Ghost answers while I hide my red cheeks in the crook of his neck. Ghost grabs me by the hand and leads me out of the ballroom. While we walk through the crowd, he lowers his mouth to my ear.

„That was a lie“, he murmurs. „I’m nowhere near done with you yet.“

It almost sounds like a promise.

[siri-ike]

Damian stepped closer, but Danyal backed away into the wall behind him. Damian looked genuinely remorseful, not really the "air of strength and authority" he'd always been made to show before.

"I," Damian breathed. "I never thought I would see you again."

"You came into my room." Danyal hissed.

Damian looked at his brother, then at the door. "I didn't mean," Damian tried to position himself in a way so he wasn't blocking the only exit, but Danyals room was so much smaller than his was. "Do you wanna talk this out somewhere else, I don't wanna box you in."

What the hell? What the hell? What the hell? "Or, you could leave my room." Excuse him if he wasn't particularly interested in "talking things out" with his killer.

"Ok," he looked disappointed but not surprised or angry. "We can do things on your terms. Just, please, don't leave Nanda Parbat without me. I want to help you." With that, Damian left, he even closed the door behind him.

Danyal, still pressed up against the wall, huffed. "Don't leave Nanda Parbat without me"? He tried to include Damian before, and what did it get him? Stabed!

He pulled his legs into his torso. This is probably some plan to catch him in the act or something. Prove once and for all that he's the superior twin. He probably dragged his lifeless body all the way into the pit chamber, snuck past the demons head dumped his body in there, carried him all the way back to his bedroom, and prepared that whole speech to lull him into a false sense of security so he can stop the escape plan with Mother watching. That's it. That's a perfectly reasonable assumption to make.

Hours passed, but Danyal stayed in his room. This isn't the first time he's been forgotten. No one cares what he does. As long as he stays in shape, should Damian need a transplant. He couldn't count all the times he'd been told he's nothing more than 43 potential replacement parts. He had nightmares all the time of Damian getting badly injured. He used to imagine walking down the hall and coming face to face with Damian and seeing one of his eyes blue instead of green.

Hold on a second...

Danyal stood up and reached for the door handle.

*click*

He left it unlocked?

____(Ha! You thought it was over, but there's more!)____

Damian Wayne al Ghoul woke up in a ghasp. His hands pressed tight against his abdomen, but neither the sword nor the wound were there.

It didn't make any sense. He had died. He was sure of it. His mother had thrown him off a roof, and he landed on a statues raised sword.

He scanned his surroundings. This was his bedroom, but... the wrong one? The one back in Nanda Parbat. Shit. That means he's completely at Mother's mercy. He threw off his cover and... Huh. That's different. Just yesterday, he was roughly the size of an adult. And now? He slid off the bed, and his eye level got lower. He looked at his hands and feet. They were round and pudgy, clearly belonging to a small child, but how?

The face analyzing him from the bathroom mirror was his own. It's hard to believe he was ever so cute. Dick can never learn of this. Could Mother have done this somehow? Reversed his age? Maybe put his mind into a younger cloned body? And why so young? He couldn't be more than 7 years old.

Damian spat the toothpaste into the sink. Hold on. Danyal died around this age. They wouldn't. She wouldn't. Damian slowly raised his head back up to face the mirror.

Green eyes.

Thank goodness.

Damian returned his toothbrush and started to get dressed. Let's see. If Mother had been behind this, he probably would not have woken up alone after such an altercation. It's most likely time travel or a vivid dream. His dreams do tend to seem more real during near death experiences.

Damian took one final look in the floorlength bedroom mirror. Green is his favorite color, but green and black just looks so plain now. He much prefers the colors of the Robin suit. Dick mustn't hear of that either.

Damian almost walked out of the room without his katana. It's been a while since he felt the need to be constantly armed, but in Nanda Parbat, you never know when someone will choose violence. Except, unlike in Gotham, everyone here is trained.

"You're late." A masked assassin addressed Damian. "Morning training starts in 20 minutes, as the heir to the demon it is your duty so be there first."

"I will take that into consideration."

The assassin looked surprised. Shit. That's not what he would have said back then. He probably would have dressed him down or threatened him.

Rulling out the dream theory could prove difficult. Damian looked at his hands. 5 fingers each. That rules out, Dr. Strange and Poison Ivy but not the Mad Hatter. Reading wouldn't help either, Jervis Tetch had managed to mimic words on a page in another's dreams by activating choice parts of the left and right brain at the same time. It would be easier and faster to check for time travel.

If Damian estimated his current age correctly, then Danyal should either be alive or there should be some evidence of him. Damian just had to check his bed chambers... where were Danyals bed chambers?

He didn't sleep in the family wing with himself, mother, and grandfather.

Damian stopped his carer and looked back at the family wing. "Where does Danyal sleep?"

The assassin seemed cought off guard. But thanks to their stations, he has to answer. "Danyal has a room in the lower levels." Has? He's alive!

"Near the prisoners? In the dungeon?" How could he never have known?

"Not that low." He had a placating tone. "He is still a member of the Demons family. A black spot, but a member."

To think he was viewed so low that someone in direct contact with the family could expect to talk about him in such a manor. "Take me to him."

"I'm supposed to take you to training-"

"And not you are taking me to Danyal. In exchange for keeping your foot attached." Was that something he would have said? It sounded like something he would have said.

"This way."

Must be.

It wasn't the dungeon. But this was no place for Damian's own brother to live. He should be living in the palace. No. They should be living at the manor.

"Tell my instructor that I won't be attending today's morning training. I have important matters to take care of." Damian made sure his tone was a threat.

The assassin left, in the direction of the training grounds. One missing student won't make too big a difference.

Damian placed one hand on Danyals door. It was a standard room. The kind strays are put in. As though he was just another child who had been lost in the mountains.

If he was alive, he was behind this door. Damian took a deep breath and ripped off the bandage. He pushed the door open, and it slammed on the wall behind it. There he was. His "Ahki?"

Danyal al Ghul awoke with a gasp, hands scrabbling to put pressure on injuries that were no longer there.

It didn’t make any sense. He had died, he was sure of it. He’d felt the sensation too many times before to mistake it for anything else.

And unlike those previous times, he had known that this would be the final one.

The League didn’t revive traitors.

And even if they did, he certainly wouldn’t have woken up in his bedroom. A cell, perhaps, if not chained up in front of Grandfather himself for judgement.

Eyes flitting over his surroundings, he felt a sense of deja vu overcome him. It was exactly as it had been before he began the final preparations for his flight.

Had he just dreamed up the attempt? No, that was impossible. It was all too… detailed. Too real. Dying, especially, always felt different in his nightmares.

As impossible as it seemed, maybe he really was in the past. Not by much, but it might be enough.

This time, he could correct his mistake.

Danyal shuddered at the memory of the cold steel of his brother’s blade piercing his flesh.

This time, he wouldn’t stupidly ask Damian to come with him. He’d just go. And if they still crossed paths anyway on his way out, he’d be the one to strike first.

Though before any of that, he’d still have to make it to that time without giving anything away. Shouldn’t be too difficult, since he’s already done it once. The only real challenge will be not reacting differently to Damian, but that shouldn’t be a big issue either considering how little they interacte—

The door to his room slammed open.

“Ahki?” the last voice Danyal wanted to hear croaked out, sounding almost on the verge of tears.

‘What the hell?’

This is sorta a remix of a previous prompt of mine about both demon twins being sent back to the past to right before an incident where Danyal tried to flee the League with Damian but Damian betrayed him.

The distinction is in this version, Danyal actually died in the first timeline. No secret survival, no getting revived, no ghost stuff (or well at least none that he can remember), nothing. Damian genuinely killed him.

And Damian has had years to grow from that, but Danyal hasn’t. He never got a chance to mellow out and became Danny yet, and that betrayal is still very fresh in his mind.

He isn’t going to react well to Damian in the slightest, especially considering how out of character he sees Damian as acting

[dantes-jacket]

Breaking down the walls

Dante x fem reader

Author notes: request #12!! Your rich ceo dad doesn’t approve of Dante and doesn’t consider him your boyfriend. That doesn’t stop you or Dante though from trying to be together. Fluff, some angst

You feel a warm hand nudge your shoulder and a deep voice whisper in your ear, “Baby you gotta wake up.”

You snuggle deeper into the warm body you’ve grown to love. You mumble against his neck, “No I don’t want to. Don’t wanna leave.”

You feel his heavy sigh and his hands running through your hair, “I don’t want you to leave either. But you’re going to be late to meet with your father”

“I don’t want to see that asshole.”

“Ugh baby you’re making this hard. I know you don’t but I don’t want him to yell at you. Or fucking touch you again.”

You frown at what he says. You know it’s true but you don’t want to leave Dante. He is the only thing that brings you happiness in this world. You hate the stupid world you were born into and wish everything was different. You want to happily be with Dante not sneaking around like teenagers.

You wordlessly get out of his hold and get out of bed. You grab the extra pair of clothes you’ve brought and head into the bathroom. You peel off Dante’s hoodie you slept in and set it on the counter. You put on your ridiculously expensive clothes your parents bought you. The fabric is tight, itchy, and uncomfortable. You can’t help but look at the hoodie with sadness.

You reach your hand over to run your hand up and down the fabric. It’s worn and not as smooth as it once was. You couldn’t care less about that. It was homey. If you can even describe a hoodie like that. Dante is not the richest and you’re completely okay with that. If anything that’s what you want. Someone that lives within their means and doesn’t feel the need to buy expensive stuff and show it off. Like your father.

Dante walked into the bathroom and sees you playing with his hoodie. He stands behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, “You can take it if you want.”

“I can’t. If my father finds it he’ll burn it.” Your voice cracks, “And that’s the last thing I want.”

Dante is quick to spin you around and wipe your tears, “Hey come on don’t cry on me now.”

“I’m sorry it’s just I hate this so much.” You sniffle and try to hold back the tears so you don’t upset him.

“I know but if this is how I can get you I’ll take it. I’d rather have this than not have you at all.”

You shove your face into his chest, getting all your tears and snot onto his shirt. “I wish things were different Dante.”

He holds the back of your head to keep you close to him, “I know. I promise one day I’ll change all of this.”

You bitterly think to yourself that it’s not going to happen. That you’re going to have to keep this a secret for the rest of your life because your family won’t accept the man you love. Just because he isn’t like your father. A successful ceo, big house, wears expensive things, and flaunts his money off any chance he gets. That’s not the kind of man you want. The kind of man you want is Dante. Someone that works hard, helps others, cares deeply about the ones around him, and does everything in his power to make you happy.

You pull yourself out of his chest and give him a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes, “I can’t wait to see.” He knows you’re upset and thinking negatively but he doesn’t know what to say. There is really no words to make his thoughts known. He feels you wipe his chest a bit, “Sorry I got your shirt all messy.”

“It’s what a washer and dryer is for. I don’t mind though, cry to me any time and I’ll hold you.”

Your heart warms at his words. If it was your father he’d buy a whole new shirt and claim that one was ruined. That’s what he did when you were a kid. The first time you scrapped your knee you ran to him and cried and he was utterly disgusted and threw you off of him. He scolded you for ruining his clothes and left you alone in a time out for hours. Dante is truly a good man with a pure heart. You’re so happy you’ve found him and not a man like your father.

You finished getting ready while Dante hung out in the bathroom telling you about how Morrison called him before you woke up about a mission tonight. He doesn’t know many details so he can’t answer most of the questions you ask him. He knows it’s frustrating you because you want to know he’ll be safe. He feels bad when he can’t promise you.

As you’re slipping on your expensive and uncomfortable heels you can’t help but feel like today is going to be a long day. Before you leave Dante gives you a kiss and a promise he’ll call you after his mission. You hold out your pinky and he can’t help but laugh and link your pinkies. He gives you one more kiss and sends you off. He hates doing this but as he said earlier, he’d rather have you a little than not at all.

•

You met your father in is his stupidly big office in his equally as stupidly big building. You also had to wait two hours before you even saw him. This was the man that yelled at you not to be late, yet he kept you waiting? Yeah ironic. If you did that he’d lock you in your room for days to prove a point about “wasting his time.”

When you finally get in his office he’s sitting behind his desk drinking. Great it’s 10 a.m. and this idiot is already drinking. You try and contain your disgust when you question him, “You wanted to me with me father?”

“Yes. Long story short you’re going on a date tonight with a potential client. If this goes well you’re going to marry him.”

Your eyes widen how he can just sip on his drink and say something so crazy so casually. Marry a man just so he can improve his business? Hell no. Today you’re putting your foot down. “No. You know I’m in a relationship so I’m not doing it.”

“News to me you’re in a relationship. Who is it? How much does he make? What does he do?”

“I’m dating Dante remember?” You grit your teeth.

“The filthy demon hunter? No you’re not. You are going on this date and that’s final. If you disobey I’ll make sure you never leave the house again.”

“But-“

“Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been sneaking off to see that back water disgrace.”

You start to panic, “Father-“

“Enough and listen to me. As of now you two are done. You are doing to this event tonight with this man and that’s final.”

In this moment you wish you had Dante’s strength. He would be able to put his foot down and not budge. He’d fight for what he wants. He’d fight for you. You hang your head at the realization. You can’t do the same. You can’t fight for the man you want. You hate yourself more and more for that. Wanting to get out of here to call Dante and hear his reassuring words you meekly respond, “I understand.”

“Good. Now go home and get ready. He’ll pick you up at 4.”

With that done you dash out of his office and across the street where you know a pay phone is. You quickly slide in some coins and call Dante. Your anxiety only grows when the ringing lasts longer and longer. The call cuts indicating he isn’t picking up. You slam the phone back and scream. He must be on his mission now. How are you going to make this work?

The entire time you walk home you cry uncontrollably. You can’t stop the flow of tears. This is so unfair. Why did you have to be born into this life? You don’t care for fancy name brands and always want the newest expensive thing that comes out. All you want it to be loved and be happy. You only feel that when you are with Dante. Now the one thing you want is being ripped out of your hands.

When you make it back home none of the maids make a comment about how you look. You’re thankful but you know at the end of the day they don’t care how you feel. They’re just doing their job so they don’t get fired.

They get you ready with makeup and doing your hair. They are actually kind enough to let you pick out a dress. You pick your red dress that has a long train and a slit up your right leg. It reminds you of Dante and that’s the only reason you’re going to make it through the night.

•

Your father was right that your date was going to pick you up at four. The man came in a slicked out black car with the windows tinted. You rolled your eyes, one of those guys great.

The man doesn’t even help you into the car. He just watches you get settled in then starts yapping about how “awesome” he is. How he makes so much money, how he’s fit, and how “handsome” he is. He looks like a toad had a kid with a fish. He smells like shit too. You toon him out until you get to the event. It’s a formal event where rich people just talk both how great they are on stage. Your date leads you to your table but you are quick to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

When you walk to the bathroom you swear you see Dante walk into a random hallway. Rushing to see if it’s really him or you were seeing things you end up at the hallway. You see his trademark sword on his back. It is him!

“Dante!” You yell out and run to him.

Dante spins around and sees you running towards him, “Baby? What are you doing-“

He’s cut off by you pulling him into a kiss. He is quick to reciprocate and deepen the kiss. The kiss doesn’t last long because he’s nervous on why you’re here. This is where is mission is and he doesn’t want you anywhere near here.

“What are you doing here?” He questions immediately after breaking the kiss.

You catch your breath, “I- I,”

“Don’t worry you can tell me.”

You look away not wanting to see his reaction to what you’re about to tell him. “My father forced me to come here and go on a date with a potential clients son. He said that you and I aren’t together anymore. If I disobey him tonight I’m getting locked in my house and can’t leave.”

Dante clenches his fists. What say does he have in this? This isn’t over and he’ll make sure to change all of this as soon as this mission is over. But he has to get you out of here first. “I’m sorry you have to go through all of this baby but I need you to leave right now.”

You turn back to him confused, did he just not hear what you said? You can’t leave. “I can’t.”

“Yes you can.”

“Dante no I can’t. My dad will know and I’ll get in trouble.”

“Goddamnit just leave!” He frustratedly shouts. He sees you step back a bit after seeing his mood change. His heart drops to his stomach, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just need you to leave. This is where my mission is and I won’t be able to focus if I know you’re here.”

You freeze, “Wait you mean there’s a demon here? Right now?”

“Yes so I need you to leave. I promise I’ll deal with the fallout with your dad just-“

“There you are.” A nasally voice interrupts Dante. You turn and see it’s your date. Dante is quick to stand in front of you.

“Leave us alone.”

“Ah sorry no can do. I’m here for my date. Or should I tell your daddy you’re disobeying him again like a toddler.”

“Don’t talk to her like she’s a child.” Dante threatens.

His gaze locks with Dante’s, “Let’s get one thing straight demon spawn. She’s here with me and going to obey me. We will tell her dad the night went great and get married soon. Now get out of our way before I get all these influential people to kick you out.”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” You step out from behind Dante. “I won’t let someone else look down on him. You never know when someone like him could save your life.”

The man walks over and grabs your wrist and starts tugging you down the hallway. Dante goes to grab the man but you give him a look. You can see the hesitation flash across his face but is quickly replaced by frustration as he stops his actions.

You mouth out to him, “Stay safe.”

Dante mouths back, “I’ll find you soon, promise.”

Your date drags you back to the table and just in time for the first speech. You two don’t say anything to each other and don’t make eye contact. As the speakers come and go all you can think about is what Dante said. There’s a demon here. That thought scares you. You’re afraid of them ever since the first time they attacked you.

You were walking home from a treat yourself lunch date. When suddenly you were backed into an alley by six different demons. They had different weapons, forms, heights, and noises. They were terrifying and you couldn’t even do anything. couldn’t scream or move.

The first one lunged towards you and you looked away bracing yourself for an impact. The impact never came. You look back to see a man in a leather jacket bouncing around and killing all the demons. He has a big smile on his face and can’t stop laughing. Especially after he insults how one looks or smells. He’s having fun doing this scary thing. How is that even possible?

The mysterious man finishes and walks over to you. “You alright? They didn’t get you did they?”

“Uh no they didn’t… you came right on time.”

“Phew! That’s great to hear. I’m glad you’re alright.”

“Well it’s all thanks to you sir.” You brush some hair behind your ear.

“Dante, my names Dante.” He holds out his hand. You introduce yourself then reach to shake his hand and the warmth of his hand lights a fire in you that you didn’t know you had.

You clear your throat while pulling your hand away, “So Dante, can I treat you to a meal? As a thanks for saving my life.”

“Oh you don’t have to-“ you then hear a loud grumbling noise that definitely did not come from your stomach. You watch him cover his stomach and chuckle.

You grab his hand and drag him out of the alley, “Sounds like you’re hungry. Let’s go, it’s my treat!”

The memory fills you with mostly happiness now because that’s when you met your amazing boyfriend but it still scares you. Demons are scary and no joke. You’ve come to realize that more with being in a relationship with him. He’s got the most important job in the world in your opinion. If the world didn’t have people like him then you all would have been dead years ago. He keeps this world safe and you couldn’t be more proud of him.

There’s suddenly a big crash and roar coming from the corner of the room. Everyone turns and sees a massive demon standing there. He’s tall and chunky. He swipes tables and people aside. You hear glass shattering, bones snapping and screams.

You quickly stand but once you see him get closer you push your date and try to run. As it gets closer your date pushes you towards the demon and takes off running again. You tumble to the ground not expecting his strong push.

You hear the insanely heavy footsteps of the demon getting closer. You can’t help but freeze in place. There’s no way now you can out run the demon. You hang your head and think about how the last time you got to see Dante you didn’t even get to tell him you love him. Now you’ll never get to see him again and tell him. Like that day long ago, you wait for the impact that’ll settle your fate.

You hear the roar of the demon basically right behind you. You steel yourself a bit and just count down until you know your untimely death is going to happen. Your suddenly hit with and impact but it didn’t hurt. Wait you’re moving really fast?

You open your eyes and see Dante holding you close and moving you out of the way. But he’s not in his human form. He’s in his devil trigger. You’ve only seen it once but not in action. One night you two were hanging out he opened up to you about it and showed you what it looked like. He told you the whole story from his dad, to his mom dying and how he thought his brother died but he actually lived.

You could tell he was scared to show you, thinking you’d run when you saw it. Since he is part of something you are scared of. Instead of walking away you walked right to him and reached your hand out. You touched along his devil form to feel him. It still gave off the same warmth that his human form does. It’s still Dante. How could you ever walk away from him?

“Dante?”

He sets you down and gives you a quick smile, or what you think is a smile considering the form. “You’re alright, I promise I’ll keep you safe. Just stay right here and don’t move until I come back. Understood?”

“Understood.” You hold out your pinkie to him and he laugh. He uses his long and sharp pinkie to link with yours. He tries his hardest not to cut or hurt you. After the pinkie promise has been sealed he quickly rushes off.

You see he doesn’t go right for the demon but instead he grabs your date by the back of the shirt. He drags the man over to the demon and holds him out as an offering. The demon happily takes the offering and swallows your date easily.

Dante knew after he saved you he was going to get that fucker that tried to have you die. He is quick to grab him and hold him to the demon.

“Demon spawn what are you doing!?! You’re suppose to be saving me!!”

“No way in hell am I saving someone who is exactly like a demon and tries to sacrifice my girl.” A loud scream falls the man’s mouth as soon as the demon takes him. Dante watches happily as the scene in front of him unfolds. Now it’s time to finish this thing.

Dante quickly pushes the demon back so it can be as far away from you as possible. Once he’s in an area he knows he can focus and go all out he launches his attacks. He slices through the demon in multiple areas to weaken it and have it fall down. Once it’s down on the ground he is quick to cut the head off and dismember the body. When the demon doesn’t move or make a sound anymore he rushes to you.

He reaches out to you but remembers he’s still in his devil trigger. Dante switches back to his human form and reaches out to you again. He places his hand on your cheek and rubs his thumb back and forth. “You’re not hurt right?” He looks you over and doesn’t see any injuries.

You lean into his touch and place your hand on top of his, “Once again I’m okay because of you saving me.”

He chuckles and stands up. He holds out his hand to you and helps you up. Once you’re standing he leads you out of the now destroyed building. Across the street you see your father fuming. He marches right over to you and starts to yell at you.

“Why would you bring your demonic spawn toy here! He ruined everything!!”

“Don’t you dare call him that. He just saved your fucking useless life and this is what you want to say!?! You’re an absolute joke.”

“What did you just say you me you brat!?” He raises is hand but Dante is quick to grab it and squeeze it.

“You won’t lay a hand on her.”

“Let me go demon spawn!” Dante doesn’t listen but tightens his grip.

“Don’t think I will.”

Your father turns to you, “How can you want to be with this useless and vile man!?”

“STOP IT!!” You screech. Now everyone around you is looking at you due to your outburst but that doesn’t stop you.

“Stop saying awful things about him, I won’t allow it! As I said earlier this man saved your life so how can you think he’s useless? Yes he may be part demon but he cares more than anyone in this world! Especially compared to the man you had me with tonight. He tried to sacrifice me to save his own ass. Dante made it his mission to save me before fighting the demon. I don’t care what you think anymore but I don’t want any of this. I just want Dante because I love him! I’m happy with him like I never have been before. I’m not going to let you take this from me.”

Dante’s gaze snaps over to you. You love him? You two have never said those words to each other before but you stood here and admitted it basically to the whole world. That takes bravery and strength. He’s so proud of you for getting your voice. He’s also happy to know when you did get that, it was for defending him. Dante loves you more than you’ll ever know.

Your dad gapes at you. “What!? How dare you say all that to me especially after everything I’ve given you?”

You quickly throw off all the jewelry, hair pieces, and kick off your heels. You didn’t need them. You’re going to show your father right here and now you don’t need him. That you have a much better man in your life now and he’ll properly take care of you. Your father watches you in astonishment as you throw off all these expensive things.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?”

“I’m done. I don’t need your money or this expensive stuff. From now on I make my own decisions. Starting now I’ll never talk to you again and I’ll be with Dante till the day I die. He is the man I want in my life and no one else.”

Dante pushes your dad back and picks you up bridal style. He starts to walk off when your dad calls out, “I bought that damn dress too.”

Dante snaps his head over his shoulder to look at your father. The look Dante must be giving him scared him so bad that he doesn’t comment again.

The walk is silent until you call out to Dante, “I can walk so you don’t have to carry me.”

“Not without shoes on your feet. I don’t mind carrying you, it keeps you close to me.”

You cuddle into his hold, “You’re warm.”

“And you’re beautiful. You looked great tonight. I’m sorry I didn’t say that earlier.”

“Thank you but I’m burning this dress.”

Dante’s quickly looks at you and questions, “What?!? Why!?”

“It reminds me of my old life and I want to be unshackled.”

“Well let’s not jump to conclusions. Why don’t we sell it and then with that money we can go pick you out a dress or two that you like and I can enjoy too.” He wiggles his eyebrows at the end of his sentence.

You giggle and lightly slap his chest. He laughs at your reaction then suddenly goes serious, “Thank you for standing up for me. I don’t care about what people say or think about me. But seeing someone defend me is nice.”

You place your hand over his heart and let the beat calm you. “I’ll always defend you. It’s the least I can do for you always being there for me.”

“I’ll always be there for the woman I love.”

You take your gaze off of your hand on his chest and meet his loving gaze. You have the biggest smile on your face, this time it reaches your eyes unlike it did this morning.

“I love you Dante.”

“I love you more than you’ll ever know baby.”

@overwach127 hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing this!! Also thank you for all of your kind words 🩵🩵

[writingdevil]

Smitten x hunted? I think they would be really interesting because smitten is so focused on “frivolous” things like romance while hunted is so focused on survival.

(THEY'D BE SO CUTE!! I've seen some spousemouse stuff and it's always adorable, and I agree that they'd both be focused on completely different things, but I also think they'd be good for each other, so enjoy!)

(Warning-One mention of animal death and blood)

Hunted was in a bit of a predicament, one that couldn't be solved by simply running away.

At first, he considered the sudden burst of nerves and fluttering feelings he would get throughout the day, as a sign of danger afoot.

But Hunted was vigilant in his search for threats, and when none presented itself, it only made him more worried.

He wasn't sure what the problem was, until he started to notice when he would get these feelings-and only one person made Hunted feel this way.

Smitten.

Everytime Smitten approached him, Hunted would feel his face flush at the poetic words flowing out of Smitten's mouth, or have his feathers puff up whenever Smitten touched him in any way. But the most damning thing of all-was the amount of time that Smitten remained in Hunted's daydreams, and when the daydreams turned to kissing, Hunted knew exactly what was going on.

The problem was acting on it.

Hunted's never been in love before, and all his usually correct instincts were telling him to run far, far away from Smitten, which was the last thing he wanted.

Hunted spent a good week agonising over his internal fight between his heart and head-until he came to a realisation.

All of this overthinking was pointless if Smitten didn't reciprocate his feelings.

That got Hunted seeing straight again.

It all became so clear to him. Hunted just had to see if Smitten felt the same way. That way, if he didn't, Hunted could go back to trusting his instincts without any issues at all.

He just had to court Smitten properly.

Even though this was a first for Hunted, he felt pretty certain in his skills to court Smitten and let him see how Hunted truly felt about him.

There were many ways that Hunted could go about this, but he decided to go with the most sensible courting ritual.

-

He heard Smitten's humming before he was anywhere near his bedroom, so Hunted had time to take a look back and view his handiwork, before Smitten opened the door, and Hunted whirled around just as Smitten let out a frightened yell.

"Goodness gracious!" Smitten yelled in surprise, clutching a hand to his chest in fright, pressing himself up against his wall.

Hunted waited for Smitten to calm down, keeping his posture relaxed despite the way his heart hammered in his chest.

"Sorry for scaring you," Hunted said with a duck of his head. "Didn't mean to."

Smitten took a deep breath in, before collecting himself, giving Hunted a beaming smile that made his heart flutter, but he managed to keep his composure.

"It's quite alright, my small friend. I was just startled-no hard feelings here. But-um-" Smitten gave him a curious look, and walked up to him, and Hunted made sure to ignore the pounding of his heart, as Smitten stared down at him with those sparkling eyes of his.

"I must admit, I'm a bit confused as to why you're here. Is there something you need my assistance for?"

Hunted shook his head, stepping aside to let Smitten observe his room. He avoided Smitten's gaze as he explained, "I hope you don't mind, but I cleaned your bedroom for you."

Hunted looked up and inspected his work, just so that he didn't have to see Smitten's reaction.

Smitten's room hadn't exactly been the cleanest, so it was a good excuse as any to clean it up.

The floor was clear, the loose feathers were gone, and everything was exactly to how Smitten would have liked his room. But the real reason that Hunted had gone through with this, was to make space for what he really wanted to do with Smitten's bed-make a nest out of it.

All good mates are able to make secure and comfortable nests for their partners.

Huntrd had taken every blanket that Smitten had owned-and some of Hunted's own-and had created a nest that would make any other avian swoon.

There was a dark blanket acting as a canopy, casting the bed into a nice shade, while mountains of pillows and sheets turned the bed into a formidable fortress of comfort, one that Hunted was itching to have Smitten's scent all over, to complete his work and prove that this nest was adequate enough for someone as amazing as Smitten.

Smitten gasped dramatically, and it sounded like one of his happy ones, but Hunted couldn't be sure. But then Smitten lunged forward and wrapped Hunted into a big hug, one that Hunted tensed up at but didn't fight.

Smitten lifted his feet off the ground as he squeezed him, nuzzling into Hunted as he happily exclaimed, "Oh Hunted, you shouldn't have!"

"Do you like it? Do you like the nest?" Hunted asked, physically unable to relax until he had an answer.

Smitten leaned back just enough to show Hunted the absolute joy in his eyes, and Hunted breath hitched.

"Oh, I'm absolutely in love with it! Thank you so much for this!" Smitten went back to hugging Hunted, but Hunted's brain was stuck on what Smitten said.

He was in love with the nest? He was in love with how Hunted built his safe space? Does that mean that Hunted did good and that Smitten was also in love with-

"I can't wait to share this nest with the others!"

Wait, what?

Smitten released him from his embrace, carefully putting him back on the ground, immediately rushing up to the nest to admire it, cooing at all the little details and ideas that Hunted had cared enough to put in. Although the praise made Hunted want to chirp with glee and snuggle up with Smitten, he was stuck thinking about what Smitten had just said.

Share it with the others? Does that mean he didn't return Hunted's feelings? Nests made by mates or potential partners were usually just shared between them, but if Smitten wanted the others to come into the nest that Hunted worked so hard on, then maybe he didn't have any romantic feelings towards Hunted at all.

Hunted wasn't exactly convinced, though. Especially as Smitten started rambling about having a sleepover in his nest, and Hunted was already one of the first people to be invited. It was just enough to flick away his initial disappointment, and urge him to keep trying in his endeavours of love.

-

Hunted briefly considered bringing gifts of food to Smitten to show that he would be a good provider, and considering that Smitten was the cook of the house, it would line up nicely.

But then Hunted remembered the last time he brought home a fresh kill- a rabbit, clinging between Hunted's jaws with blood all over his face, and he had presented the catch to Smitten triumphantly. But Smitten had only been shocked and a bit disgusted at the surprise, more concerned with cleaning up the blood on Hunted's face, and he kindly asked Hunted to not bring meat home like that anymore.

So he decided on another approach.

He walked right up to Smitten one day, lightly bonking his forehead against Smitten's back, and when Smitten turned around, Hunted had to try extremely hard not to stutter as he sheepishly said, "Your wings need to be preened. Can I-"

"Of course you can, my dear," Smitten immediately said, leaving no room for arguments. He instantly took Hunted by the hand and guided them to the couch in the living room, and Hunted tried his best to remember Smitten's touch in case this whole thing was in vain.

Smitten sat on the couch, back straight and wings spread out, ready to be preened.

Hunted's done this hundreds- no, thousands, of times before, but right now, there was a bundle of nerves in the pit of Hunted's stomach, and he simply didn't have the option of running away. All he could do was ignore it for the time being.

Thankfully Smitten didn't see the way Hunted's hands shook as he started preening Smitten's feathers, taking the time to truly appreciate how well-groomed and soft they looked.

He preened much slower than usual today, wanting to make sure that he didn't miss a single feather, determined to have Smitten looking his best.

Well, Smitten always looked his best, but Hunted didn't want to be the one to soil Smitten's pretty features in any way.

"I always love it when you preen my wings," Smitten softly said, and Hunted froze for a split second at the fondness heard in the other's voice, before forcing himself to keep going, pretending that he wasn't completely flustered right now at this moment.

"I'm glad," Hunted quietly admitted, ducking his head even though Smitten couldn't see him. "I like preening others." He shrugged to himself then. "Not good at words, better at doing things for others."

If Smitten caught on to what he was saying, then maybe this would go easier than Hunted thought.

"Yes, you truly take care of the flock like no other, and we're all blessed to have you in our lives, Hunted."

But then again, he just said he was bad at conveying emotions.

Hunted continued to preen Smitten in relative silence, only swapping a few words here and there. Although Hunted was being pulled in all directions with these feelings, it was still nice to sit down and bask in this moment with Smitten.

Smitten never made Hunted feel anxious or in danger. He always treated Hunted with nothing but gentle respect, looking at him with genuine interest at the things he did, even if the two of them couldn't be farther apart.

Smitten was a divine being that should be adored and cherished-and Hunted was merely the dog that was loyal to him.

Soon enough- too soon-Hunted was finished preening, and he patted Smitten's back to let him know that he was done.

Smitten slowly turned around to face Hunted as he inspected his wings, and the sound of pure giddy joy that left his mouth was enough to have Hunted's face flushing.

"Aw, they look magnificent, my dear," Smitten praised, and Hunted clenched his fists to try and reign in his own excited nerves.

But when Smitten's gaze fell onto him, Hunted couldn't help but get lost in the fondness that Smitten held for him, and there was suddenly only the two of them in the world right now.

"You're always so sweet to us," Smitten murmured, and Hunted felt like he was walking along a dangerous edge as he sheepishly asked, "You think I did a good job? You think I'm good at taking care of you?"

"Of course, sweetheart." Hunted was about to let the pet name go to his head, all his instincts telling him to confess, confess, confess-

"It's truly respectable how sweet you are to the whole flock," Smitten exclaimed, suddenly shooting up to his feet, giving Hunted only the briefest of glowing smiles, before saying, "I should go and show off my freshly preened wings. Take care, Hunted!"

Then he was off, leaving Hunted stunned and confused.

He should let this go. He should accept that Smitten didn't feel the same and move on-but Hunted still had one more courtship ritual to enact.

-

This was the last ritual that Hunted wanted to perform, and everything sensible within him was telling him to run away from this mess, and Hunted was half inclined to agree.

But he needed to know.

He can't go on wondering about what ifs and romance when there was a flock to protect and look after.

He needed to know if Smitten felt the same way or not, if only for peace of mind.

"I'm here, Hunted!" Smitten waved enthusiastically as he ran up to join Hunted on the field, the stars shining down on them. Hunted wanted to do this away from prying eyes, for the sake of his dignity.

As Smitten walked closer, he asked, "What is it that you needed to meet me here for-"

But then Hunted held up a hand, making Smitten stop a few feet away from him. Smitten looked at him in confusion, but Hunted just lowered his head, and spread out his wings.

He flapped them once, stepped forward, flapped them again, spun around, and took a step to the side.

The confusion on Smitten's face was only there for a moment, before it fell into realisation-and he spread his own wings in return.

Hunted's face was on fire.

Still, he forced himself to continue, beginning to walk around them, and Smitten walked in the opposite direction, until they were circling each other, eyes locked and breathing almost in sync.

They flapped, walked, spun. Flapped, walked-Smitten did a quick bow of his head, but when Hunted tried to do the same, he almost tripped on his feet, making Smitten giggle.

This was why Hunted did this one last. He was terrible at dancing.

Still, Smitten didn't seem to mind, only getting more into the dance, it looked like.

They walked closer and closer, until Hunted could feel the intensity of Smitten's eyes, and he felt like he was dancing with an apex predator, one that he would happily let consume him.

Hunted looked down, to find their hands reaching for each other. Their fingers interlinked, and then Smitten pulled him closer.

Hunted let a gasp out, but then the dancing got faster, with Smitten now taking the lead, twisting and spinning Hunted around with a lightness that had his heart pumping and bursting with love.

This was their moment.

No matter whether Smitten reciprocated or not, this would still be theirs.

Smitten spun him around, and then Hunted yelped as he was suddenly dipped, his arms instinctively reaching out to grab at Smitten's shoulders.

Their eyes locked, panting and letting the tension thicken between them.

Then, Smitten's brows furrowed, and he asked, "Have you been trying to court me, Hunted?"

Hunted gulped, but there was nowhere to run now, so he just nodded with a nervous, "Yes."

"The preening, the nest in my room-"

"All to show that I would be a worthy partner," Hunted explained, then he shrugged. "But it didn't look like you got the hint."

Smitten sighed dramatically, holding him closer as he said, "Darling, I thought that was the case, but you behave that way around everyone, so I assumed it meant nothing."

Oh. Now that Hunted thinking about it, he does do that with the others, so he can see where the confusion was coming from.

He shyly looked back up at Smitten. "Sorry-didn't realise. I was trying to show off to you." He felt his face burn hotter as the embarrassment took over him, but Smitten merely pulled him closer to his chest to take him out of it.

"Wait," Hunted said, hope rising in his chest, "if you realised what I was doing, then does that mean-"

Smitten smiled down at him, as if Hunted was the most precious thing in existence.

"Would you like me to say my own declaration of love?"

Hunted nodded, and when Smitten leaned down to softly kiss him, they both got their answer.

[xmads-omensx]

Pairing: Android!Noah X Reader

CW: Android au, sentient being, Noah navigates new and big feelings, references to being "owned" in a vague context, angst if you squint

Heavily inspired by @saythatuwill 's android!noah au

Sorry if the formatting is a little weird, I started it as a one shot then changed it to headcannons

Tags: @shayeanna-ashlie @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @supersquirrel1996 @tosoundlessdarkistare @bloody-spades @klutzy-kay24 @heyyoplayer @lacy1986  @dominuslunae @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @chey-h @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp @overmydeadbodysblog @illmakeyousaywow @dsireland86 @missduffsblog  @littlebear423 @blade-dressed-in-red @rumoured-whispers @dontwantthemoney @eclipseeetop @xxkittenkissesxx @theanarchymuse95 @blackveilomens @lilgarbitch @lil-garbitch @concretejunglefm @museonfilm @death-ofpeace-ofmind @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @kissestomyomens @flowery-mess @athenexe @anything-more-than-human @oobleoob @dollieomens @astronoids @pipidoll

At first, Noah thought his system was malfunctioning, but then again, thinking wasn’t exactly something that Noah was supposed to be good at.

As a companion model, Noah’s job was more or less to become a placeholder for the love and affection that his ‘owner’, so to speak, lacked.

You, however, had purchased him for an entirely different purpose.

Her desire to create a band and situate Noah as the frontman was something that he wasn’t programmed to do, but after various upgrades, he was perfect for the role.

He had the voice, the looks, the style, the only thing that he lacked was feeling.

You know when you watch someone perform live and it’s like they are living the song right in front of your eyes, it was never like that for Noah. Granted, he wasn’t a real person, so he wasn’t exactly going to be the most immersive performer, but you could see the rest of the band you put together were really living the music.

Noah just… couldn’t.

It was as if his new, state of the art music software was completely lacking any form of function in that regard.

That’s when it started.

He stood on stage, singing the songs and moving around the stage in the routine that he had carefully crafted for himself.

Walk to the right, then slowly step back, take three steps to the left before the chorus hits then step forward to sing it. 

You were always standing stage left, behind the heavy curtain, watching your band perform. 

As Noah looked at you, completely out of schedule from the rest of his routine. He never looked at you, that’s when it happened.

In the cavity within his chest, there was what felt like a spark, then his whole body felt like it had lit up.

The spark travelled from his chest, so the empty space in his stomach where nothing but wires and machinery lay, then travelled to his toes, until his whole body felt electrified.

It felt so right.

It felt so wrong.

Noah’s instant reaction was to presume that his system was combusting or something of the like, so he went into power-save mode.

His eyes closing, and head dipping down, he just stood on the stage completely motionless which didn’t affect the rest of the androids on the stage who continued to perform as they were programmed to do.

Luckily for you the two stage hands were big, burly men who were able to carry the now idle Noah off stage and back into the green room to await transportation back to the house. 

After that night, Noah was in a state of limbo. 

Never quite sure what to do with himself.

It was as though his programming had been re-written. 

Noah seemed more on edge around you than normal. Since he was a companion bot, his role was to care for his ‘owner’, but this time it seemed… different.

It was as if every time he went to do something in his basic programming, a switch went off that made his eyes light up and his mouth stretch into a warm smile.

Noah felt that little spark whenever Y/N was near and he was completely lost as to what it could be other than a malfunction.

You took him to get his system checked out, but nothing came up in terms of errors within him, so that ruled out Noah's only hypothesis for the situation.

Following a deep dive into some internet sites and various documents that he could access through his hard-drive, he discovered sentience.

And that became his only explanation for what was going on.

This was the hardest thing that Noah had to navigate.

Going from nothing more than a bot, programmed to love, to a sentient being who would willingly love was terrifying.

The prospect of getting it wrong hung over his head constantly.

And he did get it wrong.

All the damn time.

But you never made him feel bad for it.

He's new at this.

He's learning.

You know the scene from Bambi where he is trying to learn how to walk but his legs are all shaky and he keeps falling? That's exactly how Noah seems navigating his new life as a sentient being.

One thing that was hard for him was navigating the switch from not needing his programming anymore.

He doesn't need the programming that alerts him to hug and kiss you, he can just... do it.

He is no longer held back by his wiring, and that freedom is terrifying for Noah.

But he's getting there.

Slowly.

Noah had tried to voice his fears to you, but finding the words had been tough.

After all, you were human so how on earth could you relate to how he feels.

The rest of the band weren't sentient, so they couldn't relate to him either.

He felt so isolated.

So alone.

But that spark in his chest made it all worth it.

He never wanted to go back to the life he had where the sight of your smile didn't made his body light up with electricity.

[jammatown919]

Not to make everything about Yasammy but I'm noticing some things here that kind of feed into my whole "Kenlynn and Yasammy will be majorly contrasted in season four" thing. Honestly, I'm realizing that they're kind of already being contrasted.

In these moments we see, whether it's because she fell out of love or because she's so preoccupied that there's no space in her mind for her relationship, Brooklynn is pulling away from Kenji. More than that, she's taking his presence for granted while failing to maintain emotional closeness. She's perfectly comfortable walking into his place, helping herself to food, being around him and in his space, but she's not engaging with him. She's locked in on what she's doing, and she knows he's there, because he's always there, but she doesn't pay attention to it. It's secondary. She'll give him a hello, snatch his chips, interrupt him to ask about her jacket, and not really think twice about heading for the door.

When he breaks up with her, she seems surprised. She never expected that, because she didn't see how their relationship was deteriorating, because she wasn't thinking about it.

And he seems to give her a choice. "I can't be with you if you're not going to be with me". There's an "if" in that sentence. She had one last chance to prove to him that she wanted to fix things, and she chose another priority. She left and she stayed away. And most importantly, she left for herself.

With Yaz and Sammy, things are similar, but just different enough.

When Yaz leaves Texas, it's not for selfish reasons. Yes, she wants to work on her PTSD, but that's not the reason she goes so far away. She explicitly says that she thinks this is a good move for her relationship. She recognizes that there's a problem, and she's actively trying to fix it, even if her methods are a bit misguided.

She's thinking about Sammy this whole time. Her contact picture for Sammy is still them together. While they aren't in each other's space and don't have many moments of contact, when they do talk, Yaz is present. Sammy's phone call gets her full attention. She picks up on something being wrong because she's listening. While Brooklynn is often there but not present emotionally, Yaz is often not there but still present emotionally in the event that her and Sammy do end up on the phone.

And again, the reasons for this are different. Brooklynn is prioritizing things over Kenji. Sammy is part of Yaz's priority. She's trying to get better on her own because she thinks it will help both of them. While it kind of had the opposite effect, she was trying and she was trying for herself AND for Sammy.

In season three, Yaz beings to prioritize Brooklynn over Sammy, but she's still not completely ignoring her relationship. She wants to be on the same page. She's actively trying to work things out. She hasn't become passive the way Brooklynn did in her relationship. Even after the split, she's thinking of Sammy. Looking for her. Sending her a message through Kenji.

Yaz and Brooklynn have made similar mistakes for different reasons, and now Yaz has the same choice that Brooklynn did.

She can stay away and more or less give up the way Brooklynn did. Or, when she sees Sammy again, she can try. She can show Sammy that she wants to do better.

In season four, I think Brooklynn and Kenji are going to have to talk about how they can't be together again. It's been too long, too many chances were missed, and by now Kenji has definitely fallen out of love.

But Yaz and Sammy aren't in the same place. Unlike Kenji choosing himself when he broke up with Brooklynn, they broke up to protect each other, because their argument had escalated too much and the circumstances weren't allowing for a productive conversation. They're still in love, were reluctant to separate, and clearly miss each other. Sammy cries when she thinks too much about being separated.

Their talk is going to look very different. Their talk is going to be about how they can move forward together.

And this is how the show can make up for contrasting Yasammy with Bengia throughout season three.

The subtle signs that Brooklynn's fallen out of love with Kenji are...kinda neat.

She barely greets him when she stops by, and she's not looking at him when he's talking to her.

No heart or cute nickname on her phone, just a basic pic of him.

No background photo of them (possibly just removed, though).

I dunno. I think it's over over.

[starlightsuffered]

Rough in the Bathroom

Info - practicing for Marty supreme, dual POV, being hard all day, rough sex, sec in a bathroom, obvious boner, reader is working a lot, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, dom Timothée, impact play, underwear sucking, sweat kink, aftercare, unprotected sex

Timothee POV

I should have taken a break somewhere. I had left this morning with a hard on, after I’d seen my girlfriend getting dressed for work. Something about her meticulously putting herself together really did it for me. Perhaps it was because she looked like a well groomed princess and I was often a sweaty mess after practice.

I’d done some working out but y/n’s ass kept appearing before my eyes. She’d gone to some yoga lately and it looked particularly good. Not to mention, it was getting warmer out so her Mediterranean roots made her tanner. This also culminated in her pussy looking sexier. All these things made me feral for her.

She’d had to leave before I could do anything about it. My poor girl was working so much lately, she was pure of heart and taking on responsibilities of others. I didn’t think I’d love her so much if he were different but I did wish she’d rest.

By the time I got to the practice match my dick was fully hard. I could not take it. I wanted my girl, and I wanted her hard. Yet, I had to play a winning game.

Gwyneth was kind enough not to mention the raging boner I sported. Regardless, she knew how much I loved y/n, and fucking her. I hoped she’d assume that’s what it was about because it was.

I was frustrated pure and simple. I’d been elbowed in the face accidentally by another cast memeber. When I rubbed my face I was bleeding. I was soaked in buckets of sweat.

I felt the anger inside me rising. There was only one real good outlet for this. I bit my lip hard as I served, I only caused more blood.

“Little worn out Chalamet?” Gwyneth asked. I swung hard. I fucking despised the game in this moment. I ended up a wreck. I was bloody, sweaty, frustrated, and FUCKING tired

Not tired enough for my dick to calm down though apparently. It was wearing to have my blood all in one place.

“Shut up,” I snapped back.

We served again. Back and forth the ball bounced. I swung and grunted and threw my whole strength into it. I still lost. Gwyneth was laughing as I slammed my paddle onto the ground.

“Hi love, I took off early and grabbed us lunch,” y/n’s delicate voice awoke me from my rage.

Y/n’s POV

I was completely taken off guard by the sight of my boyfriend. He was barrelling towards me with a look on his face I knew well. My cunt was about to be used and abused. I had only moments to react and I wasn’t fast enough.

The picnic basket I’d carefully curated for my love fell onto the sweat stained court. I could hear his opponent laughing.

Timothee literally picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder. The display of strength and big hands already had me wet. I was soaked by the time we were in the toilets.

He slammed down a lid and placed me on top. Timmy pulled down my shorts and licked his lips when he saw my dripping pussy, and tanned thighs. He pushed them apart and I easily let him like a slut. Tim grabbed my hips aggressively.

He began to feast on my entrance. It was like an animal attacking a meal. I moaned, and it echoed in the toilets. I was panting, nearly pressing a fist to my mouth to muffle my sound.

“T-Timothée,” I stuttered. I was nearly choking on my need for him. “Too loud.”

He raised his head. His mouth was already a mess of slobber from his feast. I saw the flash of domination in his eyes.

A large hand was raised and I was slapped across the face for my back talk and protesting. My face stung as he went back down. I whimpered again as I listened to the sloppy, perverse, needy sounds of my boyfriend on my cunt.

The slurpy noises made me even more wet. I braced my hand against the stall wall as I groaned.

“Timothèe I can’t, fuck,” I huffed.

Timothee raised his head at last. He wiped his saliva covered mouth on the back of his hand. Next, my boyfriend stood up and pulled down his tented shorts. He struggled to pull them down from his achingly hard he was.

He needed to get back on his knees because of our height difference. My legs were wrenched apart and the burn of that was replaced with the familiar but delicious stretch of him pushing his cock inside of me.

“Timothée,” I squeaked. A smile curled onto his face, but it looked more like a sneer. He wasn’t being gentle at all. He pounded my pussy.

The noises were not easily covered and I couldn’t stifle my own sounds. He was holding my legs apart letting his massive length slam against my gspot.

“That’s it, take my fucking cock you whore,” he growled.

“Oh!” I wailed. My voice was bouncing from his hard thrusts. His cock flexed like a strong man at a carnival. I could feel every vein.

“I love it dadddddy,” I whined. He slapped my thigh and then raked his nails down it. I knew my face was scrunched with pain and utter lust.

“Fuck, fuck, such a whorish tight hole. You been hiding from daddy, so busy at work. Your only job should be, being my cock sleeve,” he snapped.

“Yes, yes, yes,” I slurred and changed the words.

“Fuck love my cock don’t you?” He teased.

“Mmmhmm,” I nodded.

“Such a needy slut, I bet you’d die if you didn’t get dicked down,” he mocked me.

“I would, I fucking would,” I nodded.

The feeling was so good I didn’t even realise I was squirming away. Timmy yanked me back so that he could breed me more. He pulled on my nipples now, tugging me off. He leaned forward to whisper depravity in my ear. He knew I would be all the more embarrassed and humiliated that people could hear me and not him.

“You love being daddy’s hole don’t you?”

“Such a subby slut for me.”

“You’ll take it all. Let me face fuck you. Let me slap you around. Let me fucking step on you.”

“Timothee, oh daddy,” I breathed. I was heaving. My cunt was drooling everywhere as Timothée pumped inside me.

“Stop, stop, stop, m gonna come,” I begged. I was bright red. I knew his opponent was still out there. I also knew I couldn’t hold back the sounds I was making.

“So whiny,” he smirked. He grabbed up his sweaty and precum stained shorts. He shoved them into my needy mouth.

My eyes rolled back into my head as I inhaled the pure musk of my boyfriend. The pressure was building and I was becoming more helpless to the feelings that were overwhelming me.

“You gonna take my spunk little girl?” You gonna be daddy’s cum dump?” He asked me in his low purr.

This sent me over the edge. I was convulsing as I squirted everywhere. It was almost embarrassing how hard I was coming.

“Oh yeah!” Timothée encouraged. He was now cumming inside of me. He took out his anger and frustration on my pussy and was almost growling as he finished. He painted the insides of me white. His moans had no caution and I was sure people could hear them for miles. I was astonished and proud that little me could make him sound that way.

When we’d both come down a bit we looked into one another’s eyes. All the romance that had been absent in that scene exploded between us. He grabbed me to him and kissed me with a passion I could have become addicted to.

My tongue swiped his lips and I tasted the blood from where he’d been elbowed. I didn’t mind. I could drown in him, his scent, his taste, his body, our skin on skin contact.

Timothee picked me up bridal style. I continued to kiss him, just so I wouldn’t need to see anyone passing by. He’d left our torn off clothing in the bathroom. We were in the showers now.

He turned it on a very warm setting but not scalding. He held me on his lap, but facing him. For a bit we just looked at one another. I paid special attention to the way the water droplets caught in his eye lashes. He would peck my swollen lips from time to time.

“You alright my love?” He asked, cupping my face.

“Mmhmm,” I nodded.

“I’m sorry I was so rough,” he sighed.

“It’s okay,” I said gently, pressing my forehead to his. He placed kiss on each side of my face. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Had a shit day, and I was hard for most of it. I just needed it, and I needed it to be rough,” he explained, flicking some wet strands out of his eyes.

“I understand,” I promised.

“It’s okay if you’re upset,” he said, slightly pouting, as if he didn’t believe me.

“You’ve been overworked and that wasn’t exactly a romantic reunion. Not to mention, you had that lovely picnic planned that I destroyed.”

“That was kinda hot,” I giggled.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Well you’re always hot but yes, that was especially hot,” I explained.

“How about this? We finish up in the shower and I let you borrow some of my clothes. Then, we go back to my flat and have some tea and take away on my balcony?” He asked. “As an apology.”

“Perfect,” I sighed.

@pmak2002 @softhecreator @plutoispurplw @sp1deyyf4ngz @seungcheol17daddy @jesschalamet @vvsdreaming @lovelyrocker @therealbeabodoobee

[alexanderlightweight]

Work absolutely sucks right now. Micromanagement from corporate to a whole new level, and I'm so tired and feel like I'm being gaslit. And no matter how much I try to boost their spirits, my staff have already shed some tears from the stress. Hell, I want to cry sometimes.

So, for Writing Wednesday? Something fun?

Maybe happy Malec in Tethers of Fate (which I adore even if it didn't get enough love in your poll), either while Magnus was wooing Alec at the Spiral Labyrinth or after they're wed?

Or indulgent Malec in Taste of Your Magic. I love Dragon!Alec and Cat!Magnus and navigating their cultural differences. And something about Alec doing everything he can to stay in Magnus' presence is just lovely and cozy.

Or domestic Bitter Trap of Truth. There is something almost silly fun about Magnus being paranoid while Alec is just living his best life bc he gets to indulge in his pretty husband.

I think I would prefer NSFW but I will be just as happy with SFW if that's not what you're feeling like.

Thank you 💙

okay so, that sounds absolutely like a completely and total fucking nightmare. and It sounds like you're trying to keep it together for everyone around you who are barely holding on, while also trying to hold on but having to be the strong one. and if you feel like you're being gaslit then you're probably being gaslit. is there someone you know who has your back you can present the situation to? someone who can be protective of you (because that is important, it makes up for the works lack of protection) and look at something somewhat objectively?

because in a position like a job where work often doesn't care about the workers, please remember to add a little extra to your 'i'm allowed these boundaries' since you need to compensate for what work should but doesn't do. I really hope things get better because no one should be going through that and its awful that you're having to both go through it and protect others going through it but also good job for trying to protect others because that is wonderful and you're doing amazing even when it feels like it's not enough! okay! you're trying your damned best!!

oh gosh, I promise I was teasing about the pole! I was surprised because i've had a lot of prompts concerning it, but it also made sense because pray to the hunters is pretty intensely loved even though I thought it would be pretty out of everyones comfort zone. I love to be wrong in these scenarios tho. but also tethers is a pretty domestic fic so far and I think that influences things because less intrigue in some ways?

i'm connecting dots like I know what i'm doing but there may not even be a picture lol

um I promise that this is happy. Magnus and Alec have a mutually teasing slightly not actually antagonistic flirtationship going on in this verse before they settle domestically. but also Alec is very much a brat in this fic. also he knows he's a brat but also he was kind of spoiled as a kid and he's fine with it. so like when Alec seems like a yowling cat he's actually pretty fucking pleased

Magnus adores his brat and doesn't mind the bratting but also he has goals. because otherwise Magnus might not ever see alec again once he leaves.

uhm NSFW and kinky blowjobs with blood kink and claiming and marking and shit, 3DNE probably knowing how I write

I hope you enjoy <3 which always feels hilarious to write on smut but like I say the same on everything.

oh this is Magnus wooing Alec in the spiral labyrinth. which is a very delicate trap to create.

... I promise malec is happy they're just kinky i'm sorry. 100% send me an ask if this didn't send the vibes you needed

lumine

tethers of fate

“Hello darling, don’t you look charming.” 

And Alexander does, despite the fact that Magnus wants to wipe away the glitter shimmering on his cheekbones or burn away the little crown of vines on his brow.

Those are claims of Arawn. Physical symbols of his ties to Alexander and also the unseelie king’s claim on the wild magic that flows through Alexander’s veins as if it were blood.

Magnus catches a brown curl around his finger and twines it, pulling it in a little tug before letting it go.  There’s barely any spring to it but his fingers ache to return and so he does, memorizing every pattern and curl on Alexander’s head as his darling diligently reads a scroll.

Finally, when Magnus is beginning to feel like he’ll run out of patience before he runs out of hair, Alexander looks up.

The green specks of his eyes are enchanting, a vibrant, insidious green that lurks in a kaleidoscope of hazel colors.  It’s unnatural and enticing, as are the strange vine and bone tattoos that spread across Alexander’s body.

“For someone who told me to read this scroll, you’re not exactly making it easy.” 

Magnus ignores the taunt because why on earth would he ever make anything easy for Alexander when he could instead make it fun.

“The scroll will still be there tomorrow, but who knows when we’ll next have a moment together. Tell me, what is your full name, darling?” Because while Alexander may not be a fae in blood, he is fae in nature.

Alexander looks at him curiously, clearly wondering why Magnus wants to know but unaware that he’s beholden by the same rules of Arawn’s court.

“No one knows.” Is the answer he’s given and Alexander’s lips quirk mischievously, “I came to tad with my name and nothing else. All other titles are presents and honors bestowed upon me.”

Magnus pretends to believe him and leave it at that for now and instead upends the bag he’d brought with him on the desk. Letting a series of magical instruments fall across the surface.

“Oh, what are these?” Alexander sounds delighted, that cat-like curiosity of his ignited the moment Magnus touches anything or brings him something. 

Magnus watches as Alexander’s hand wavers over a witchlight for a moment before he quickly moves his palm, yet it’s enough for Magnus to see the soft glow that forms and fades almost too quickly to see.

Alexander is running his fingers over a wind-whistle and it’s clear he’s trying to be nonchalant, the tips of his ears pink and the furrow of his brow overly pronounced.

But Magnus saw it and in a move that should be impossible Magnus strokes against Alexander’s aura with a drop of grace, defiled though it may be. Against his magic Magnus feels the soul-touch of a nephilim bloom and he pauses, hardly daring to believe he was right.

It shouldn’t be possible, but Magnus has spent enough time around and helping Tessa to unearth hidden secrets meant to be forgotten.

Arawn’s favored son is nephilim blooded.  

No wonder he’s so rabidly protective of Alexander.  No matter how it came about, it happened and Alexander’s a walking treasure trove of pure wild magic and raw power that could overpower most rituals that would drain others. Not only that, he has the kind of power in his blood that people would kill for.

“Alexander,” Magnus purrs, because it’s more important than ever that he gets answers. “You must have some idea of what your name was. Who you are, at your core.”

Alexander laughs, unaware of Magnus’ realization and ignoring Magnus’ attempts to cut into him, as if the thought has never occurred or mattered to him.

“I have dozens of names from my kin and a title only my father knows. The kind of name you speak of is unimportant with the wealth I have. Who I am, at my core, is a child of Arawn and that will never change no matter a name.”

Magnus realizes that he means it. 

Whatever life Alexander has and is living, it’s fulfilling enough that he doesn’t care who he is, who he was born to be. For Magnus who has run from his lineage but always comes back to it, it’s an odd perspective and it makes his plans more difficult. 

Magnus carefully and casually locks the wards of the library into place. He has permission, not only as an Elder and king but specifically since he’s considered a lure for Alexander.

The council wants to maintain access to Alexander and once he’s done studying here, Magnus doubts Arawn will let him come back. It took contracts and oaths sworn and vows upheld for the unseelie king to allow it at all and that was before the Elder’s realized the gem that Alexander is.

The moment the Elder’s realized that Magnus wanted Alexander and that the interest and chemistry was mutual, they gave Magnus full reign of their resources. Ever better, rather than simply give him access to research, they’re letting him woo Alexander while they research for him.

Every night Magnus retires to his room here and finds a desk full of rituals, some he knows, others he’s vaguely heard of and still more he’s never seen before.  All in the hopes that he will find a ritual that can tie Alexander to him in a way that Arawn cannot cut.

It only works because Magnus’ interest is selfish. For personal greed and desire, a lust and interest that focuses on Alexander as an individual rather than his powers, that allow them to circumvent the oaths this much at all.

Arawn cut off every avenue to his son but the routes of emotions and carnal hunger.

The elder’s don’t even know that Alexander is nephil blooded and yet, to try and give Magnus every opportunity — they’ve even been providing him rituals that will work on those with not just angelic but specifically nephil blood. Just that morning Magnus had memorized a diagram he’d thought would be useless but now he realizes he can use it this moment, as blood calls to blood.

Magnus lets power swell in his veins and then he kisses Alexander, harshly and hastily.  A storm finally unleashed as magic pools beneath his skin and Alexander meets him, laughing and wild and just as fierce as he kisses back.

Their teeth clash, fangs equally sharp and cutting on each other’s lips and tongues and blood smears between them as a diagram forms in the staccato beat of their pounding hearts. A name Magnus shouldn’t know and he knows is dangerous to say lingers on his tongue, coated in the blood he coaxed from Alexander’s mouth and when he pulls back he laughs.

Alexander smiles at him, already healed, his pink tongue licking away the remaining red on his lips. It’s clear he knows Magnus wanted to taste his blood and he’s pleased by it, even if he doesn’t know why. However before he can ask Magnus smirks and Alexander frowns, eyes narrowing as if he can sense the danger in Magnus’ glee.

Magnus leans forward and murmurs a name swallowed by an unholy scream that echoes in the room with a gust of wind before it’s gone.

Alexander’s eyes are wide, staring at Magnus as if he’s appointed up a rift to a void realm, rather than just claim Alexander in the most basic of fae truths.

“You’re not supposed to know that name.” Alexander snaps out of his surprise, a scowl forming on his plush lips. “That name was eaten by time for a reason, Magnus. It’s not my fate to know that life. I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“But it’s my fate to claim it. All the possibilities and truths of it, though I will never again speak it if you wish.”

Magnus kisses him again and despite his irritation Alexander kisses back, as if he’s just been waiting this whole time for Magnus to move forward and claim another taste.

After a moment Alexander bites his mouth, pulling back and looking at him with a sigh. “Don’t say that name again, Malphas. I don’t want to know it.”

Alexander kisses sweetly this time, tender and untamed under Magnus’ bruising grip and teeth. The declaration that he knows the name Magnus’ father gave him rather than the name Magnus chose isn’t a surprise.

But it delightful, how he speaks Magnus name without fear. Just after Magnus spoke his own.

However now that Magnus has said it, tasted and claimed it, he can promise never to speak of its existence again, just as Alexander wishes.

It’s a quiet vow that Magnus swears as Alexander kisses his jaw and cheeks. Magnus seals it with his mouth, kissing Alexander until he’s whining against him, mouth panting in open supplication against Magnus’ own.

It’s with a desperate need that Magnus uses magic to shove away the desk and scatter books, no matter how old or valuable they are. Alexander’s pants open under his touch, the butter-smooth leather parting under fingers until he can touch skin and bare Alexander’s cock to the air.

Magnus doesn’t let Alexander overthink it.  

The fact that Magnus knows his name even if he vowed it away, or that he’s about to taste him. Magnus doesn’t bother with foreplay, swallowing around Alexander and humming deep in his throat. Teasing Alexander’s balls with his fingers and using just a hint of teeth when he can.

There’s a vine that peeks out from under Alexander’s shirt, following down his happy trail to disappear in a curl of leaves on the crease of his groin.  It’s branded to Alexander’s skin in a tattoo that shimmers and Magnus’ nails bite into it.  Alexander gasps, hands tight in Magnus’ hair but neither pulling him away or complaining.  Instead he squirms, hips trying to thrust from where he’s pinned between the chair and Magnus’ hands and magic.

“Magnus, your tongue. Fuck I wouldn’t even care if your piercing was iron the way it feels.” Alexander groans and then he whines in complaint as Magnus stays still. A heel kicks at Magnus thigh and Magnus uses magic to keep Alexander’s legs still and snared to the chair even as Alexander writhes and swears at him in a variety of fae curses.

He can’t fuck Magnus’ throat the way he desperately wants to like this, can only sit there and take it as Magnus teases him. 

When he’s done Alexander won’t be able to look at Magnus’ mouth without imaging it on him, on his cock and his skin and marking him with his teeth.

Alexander whines as Magnus flicks the ball-piercing on his tongue against his slit and then groans when Magnus pulls back, spit and precome connecting them until Magnus licks his lips.

“Don’t you taste divine,” Magnus chuckles, flicking out his tongue and smirking as Alexander’s gaze is drawn to the piercing and his mouth. “Kiss me, sweetheart?”

Alexander bends down, kissing him desperately, tasting himself on Magnus’ tongue until the magic pushes him back, pinning him down again. 

“I can’t be so greedy and not share. You’ve probably never tasted yourself. Have you?” Alexander shakes his head and looks like he can’t decide between demanding another kiss or Magnus’ mouth back on his dick.  Luckily for him, Magnus has already picked for both of them what to do.

“Magnus!”

Alexander’s voice is desperate and he whines when Magnus rubs his cheek against Alexander’s cock. His sweet boy keens when stubble catches on sensitive skin and he whines in relief when the burn is soothed with Magnus’ tongue.

Magnus takes him back in his mouth, swallowing him down to the base, until his nose presses against Alexander’s shirt and his boy can feel every swallow and pulse of his throat around him.

Alexander comes helplessly, fingers tight like bands around Magnus’ wrists from where he’s pinned Alexander’s thighs open with his hands.

Alexander holds onto him as if clinging tightly to Magnus can keep him anchored as Magnus swallows around him. Ignoring when Alexander murmurs his name and then the louder pleas for him to stop as they turn into a series of demanding threats and curses even as Alexander does nothing to actually stop him.  They both know he could and would, if he didn’t ache and yearn at the feeling of Magnus unraveling him to the core.

It isn’t until Alexander is trembling beneath him, thighs shaking and soaked with sweat and pants drenched that Magnus stops and looks up.

Alexander glares at him, face flushed and eyes shiny with tears.  His lips are swollen from where he’s bitten them and he’s looking down like Magnus is a god trying to destroy him.

Magnus chuckles, mouth full of Alexander’s soft cock and the last bit of come he’s coaxed from him and slowly pulls off.  Alexander tugs at him instantly. Pulling him into a kiss and yanking on Magnus until he’s up and in Alexander’s lap. Both of them ignore how Alexander hisses in pain from overstimulation as Magnus settles against him. Alexander’s sensitive, flaccid cock pinned between his own open pants and Magnus’ denim.

It can’t be comfortable but Alexander is more interested in licking the taste of his own come from Magnus’ mouth, whimpering against him every time Magnus shifts but only pulling him closer. 

Even when he whines like he’s going to cry again.

Magnus grinds his hips, deliberately trapping and teasing Alexander’s cock and his boy keens into their kiss. Nails an angry bite on Magnus’ neck even as Alexander only deepens the kiss.  Clearly uncaring about anything beyond the connection of their lips.

There’s a tie between them, something delicate and subtle enough that unless you know it’s there, you couldn’t find it.

Technically it shouldn’t work like this, but Magnus knows exactly what he’s doing and even this small but powerful strand is only the beginning.

Magnus has earned blood, found a name and now he’s taken a taste. 

He’s drunk straight from a well of unimaginable power and let it christen his throat and body and claimed it for himself, as if drinking from a fountain in the fae realm.

It weaves the ties between them, equal strands forming in chains from Magnus to Alexander and from Alexander to Magnus. As Magnus ensures that by the end of this, they cannot be torn from each other.

—

AN:

Alec is something of a virgin in this fic for several reasons. He’s demisexual and he gets all the platonic cuddles he wants from his family and a few friends. Like Alec isn’t touch starved, he’s completely healthy with tons of mostly healthy emotional relationships that also have a physical component. 

He’s experimented a little, this certainly isn’t his first kiss and he’s done some handjobs/grinding etc but he’s picky about who he kisses/experiments with and because of a lack of interest on his part it never goes far. Its just he typically has better things to do than kiss people or try and fuck around. He actually has more important things to do than kiss magnus rn, however his priorities are a bit skewed now and thats okay because he likes kissing magnus which raises the priority. He just kind of tolerated/enjoyed it before when he tried it out. 

No one shames him for this. Arawn would be very happy if none of his kids developed romantic feelings for other people and just fucked or didn’t fuck based on what they need/want. So Alec is very comfortable with himself and he’s interested in Magnus which makes him interested in sex with Magnus.

Also you’re not supposed to eat or drink what a fae offers you. Magnus is very secretly creating invisible webs of oaths and magics, overlapping truth and reality with myth and also words of power and string of fate and reality. So in this moment, because of how Magnus framed the situation, he technically just consumed something from a fae (even tho alec isn’t truly fae it counts because his nature is similar enough) and bound them together because it technically gives alec power over magnus. Just like magnus gained power over alec with the knowledge of his name and they gained equal understanding/power of each other when tasting their blood.

It doesn’t all fully come together just yet.

This is just one strand of the web magnus is currently weaving. And this web has to end up being a mirror image on both sides because any weakness, discrepancy, imbalance and arawn could destroy it.

[theunholybastard]

(yes I'm aware the tour already started but pretend it hasn't for this post ok shhhh)

Just Five More Minutes... (Frater Imperator x Cirrus)

Requested by @thecrepegremlin

Tags: Drabble, Established Relationship, Slice Of Life, Fluff, Slightly Suggestive, Copia Does NOT Have His Shit Together

Copia was not a morning person. He prided himself on being a friendly and sociable person, a ball of energy and liveliness; After he's had his coffee, of course. Anytime before that, he is a completely different person, a person he does not want the general public to see. A big ol' grump, if you will. It was hard enough for him to pull himself out of bed in the morning on a good day, but ever since he was forced to take on the role of Frater Imperator, it's been all work, no play. This schedule was not made for him.

He dreads waking up. Having to stumble his ass out of bed and spend all day locked up in his makeshift office, agonizing over mountains of paperwork while he watches his twin brother live his dreams. Fucking V. He's never felt more isolated. Luckily for him, there was still one special someone in his corner to make his mornings a bit more bearable.

Copias eyes fluttered open, the delicate touch of a hand stroking his cheek stirring him awake. He groaned groggily as his eyes began to focus, looking up to see Cirrus, unmasked and unclothed. What a sight. He'd have an instant hard-on if his body wasn't so drained from their night of fun before. "Rise and shine, sleepyhead." She cooed, running her slender fingers through his hair.

"Ugh... five more minutes..." Oh, how he wanted to slam his pillow over his face, but the only thing stopping him was his dearest Ghoulette snuggled up close to him, gently trying to nudge him awake. "Mia bella... What time is it?" Copia sighed, leaning towards the warmth of her soft touch. How desperately he didn't want to get out of bed, to pry himself away from such bliss. Cirrus pursed her lips awkwardly.

"Well, uh... You're a little late for work."

"Late? How late?"

"Psaltarians already tried to call you three times."

His eyes widened. "Goddammit!" He swore, launching himself out of bed with a pained grunt. Lucifer, he was getting out of shape. "Why did you let me sleep so long?"

"You know how hard it is for me to wake you, baby. You look so peaceful. It's the only time I see you not yanking your hair out nowadays." Cirrus stifled a giggle, watching him fumble around frantically in search for his pants, her vision locked shamelessly on to the jiggle of his thighs as he ran around the room.

"My love, you know I'm backed up with paperwork enough as it is! Mind-numbing, pointless paperwork, but still. Shit, the Clergy will have my ass for this; So many things to do, such little time! And with the tour coming up so soon, I-" He stops dead in his tracks, eyes darting towards his lover still tangled in his sheets. The tour was starting, and for the first time ever, she was leaving. And he was staying. He never had to be apart from her for this long. He never even thought about it, really. It's like he just realized this would be happening.

"I just wanted our last night in bed together to, y'know... Last a little longer." Cirrus shrugged, trying to hide her melancholy.

"Shit... Is it really-?"

"First thing tomorrow, yeah." She sighed, getting out of bed to wrap her arms around his waist. "I'll miss you. I hate having to miss you. Being on tour already feels like forever, but without you...? Ugh, I'm in Hell. Again."

"I know, amore. I'll miss you most of all." He smiled sadly, bringing his hands up to cup her face. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on, he was sure of it. "Please promise to call me every night, I don't care how late it is. And most importantly, have fun... But not too much, si?" She chuckled.

"I could never, not without you." She stood on the tip of her toes to press a long, tender kiss to his lips, pulling away only to murmur a sweet, irresistible, "Can't you stay in bed with me? For just five more minutes?"

His phone lit up with another incoming call from Psaltarian...

It can wait.

-

[vibatu]

"Just a sip" , a comic idea that I have filed away under the "I no longer know when or if I'll ever finish it" category (Doesn't feel right to say "discarded" lmao) (who knows, maybe one day I pick it back up!).

I really love the thumbnails I managed to sketch out (especially that last panel at the third page!!!!!!! I want and need to make more of that), its been I think almost a year since I've made them though, and it just doesn't feel right just let them keep collecting dust after so long especially when I don't even know if the inspiration to complete it strikes again, so, here it is! Read more for further rambling into the details~

This is another "what if" comic where wanted to explore mainly:

1. Ocudeus and The Seaspring. And what could happen within someone's mind once they drink (Lukas is our text subject! Yay!)

2. "Interesting" paneling, or at least visually engaging compositions in pages (I love making comics!) There's so many things I want to practice and try out to make bring the movies in my head come to life in this format.

On to the "plot".

We start out with Lukas drinking from The Spring. Hypothetical-Timeline wise this would be happening at the "ending" of the TS story in which not a single cure is found for MCs curse. Last resort type of situation. This happens on pages 1, 2, and page "3". In this post the 3 image would actually be page 4, I just never sketches the 3rd (I just drew what was clearest in my head first). Imagine 3rd page having a shot of Ais staring at the process from a safe distance with a cig while Lukas is writhing on the floor losing his marbles after drinking (lol).

Now the fun part. Ocudeus. I imagined the process of joining the groupmind not happening instantly. I thought about Ocudeus himself manifesting in their new host's mind and sometimes striking conversation (which happens in isolation with just the two of them) (brain is not part of the primordial soup. Yet)

We don't know what Ocudeus looks like either! So I went crazy. At first I was just gonna make them take Ais' shape. But that felt, not quite right for an eldritch being. So instead, Ocudeus takes the form of whoever is drinking :) thus manifesting themselves as Lukas inside Lukas' mind.

There's a huge jump in events from Image 3 and 4 of the post. After Img 3 there's a lot of talking going on. Asking if the curse can really be cured. Ocudeus being a sassy smug menace cryptic about it and reminding Lukas that there is no going back anyways and that is no longer something Lukas should be concerned about. He will no longer be himself, so why worry.

After this its just a "Descent into true madness", see Img 4 for reference, where the "world" just really starts to warp around and eventually ends with Lukas getting "consumed" by the darkness of the giant octopus, his lasts thoughts as "Lukas" being those of relief of finally getting rid of the curse, and grief over leaving his life behind. Fun stuff.

Comic was supposed to end with Lukas jolting awake (His head was resting on Ais lap now).

After sitting up abruptly and wiping his tears away, with hands that now look properly human. Lukas turns to Ais and asks, with a gaze now as red as the seaspring near them.

"Why am I crying?"

-

THATS A LONG ONE If you read this far, well, thanks! ;w; I hope you enjoyed the read, even if there is no full comic to pair. The Seaspring is so interesting to me.

Some other random things: I got inspired by the Honkai Star Rail promo video where Acheron and Black Swan dance together. The visuals and visualization of Black Swan's "being" being consumed by the endless void was SO good and when I realized this concept could work for the seaspring in a similar way I needed to get the idea out of my system.

Have an extra! Alternative version of my fav panel. Only difference is the eyes, this is the first version. Which I drew before Redspring revealed what Ais' eyes looked like when his cephalopod friend is driving the car.

Vibi out~ (⁠・⁠∀⁠・⁠)

[aristocratic-rats]

I feel like the posts calling bucktommy people racist are being kind of obtuse. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but the difference between Buck pushing Eddie and breaking his ankle and Eddie yelling at Buck and picking a fight with him is that what Buck did is treated as something bad that he shouldn’t have done. He expresses quite a bit of remorse and we see that he immediately regrets his actions. He is called out on it and admits that he was wrong to do what he did. Eddie, however, says some things to Buck that, at the very least, should prompt a very sincere apology, but it is not framed as something he has done wrong really. He does acknowledge he was being unfair in the morning, but there is no real apology. It is also something that has happened before. He has said before that Buck is exhausting and that he always makes everything about himself when, frankly, he deserves to feel what he needs to.

I don’t dislike Eddie at all. I think his a Buck’s dynamic is delightful and I hope that their friendship does not continue to fray like this. They both have been through some really rough times, and I think they both need someone to be there for them, which could very well be each other. I do think, though, that there needs to be an apology. From experience, an apology usually also comes with the implicit promise to not let whatever behavior that hurt the person you are apologizing to happen again, which has not yet happened. I would not have wanted to be in Buck’s shoes during that fight scene, and I hope that there is a little more acknowledgment towards Eddie’s outburst.

As for Tommy’s past, I will never forgive someone who has acted the way that he did and not tried to better themself and become someone kinder and better, but that is not who Tommy is. I might need to rewatch the begins episodes again, but I remember distinctly that Chimney, Hen, and Tommy ended those episodes on good terms, often with Tommy acknowledging that he was wrong and that they do deserve to be where they are. I don’t want to sweep his actions under the rug by any means. Chimney and Hen are both incredibly competent firefighters and they both deserve much more respect than they received when they first arrived at the 118, but things were shown to have changed for the better. The montage of the 118 growing closer under Bobby’s leadership specifically shows that Hen, Chim, and Tommy are laughing and smiling and generally enjoying each others company at his transferring-to-the-217 party. Hen may not have kept in touch as much, but Chim and Tommy have been shown to be in close enough contact that Chim can call Tommy at basically a moments notice to help them with various emergencies, and Tommy shows up every time. Tommy 100% should not have acted they way he did, but I think there is something to be said for the fact that he was in quite possibly the most backwards workplace in LA. Fear is never a good reason to not stand up for others, but I can see why it would certainly be a motivator.

This show is very much about new beginnings and changing yourself for the better. Having people who love you enough, no matter, what, that they give you the room to grow and mature into a better version of yourself. No character is without flaws and skeletons in their closets. Some can certainly be argued to be worse than others, but that is a conversation for a different unreasonably long post I might not make. The fact of the matter is that Tommy continues to show up. Lord knows he needs to stop running, and I hope the opportunity arises in the show for his to do that, but no matter what happens in the remainder of this season and the next, I can definitely see on my screen that Tommy is a changed man. It is for this same reason that I have not completely abandoned Eddie as certain posts may suggest. Anyone can change for the better. Anyone can recognize and own up to their mistakes, and I hope that is what happens with Eddie.

This is way too long because it is my first post in this tag. Please feel free to let me know what you think. I am always open to discussion and I want to know if there is anything you agree or disagree with. I have hope for this show and its relationships yet, however misguided that may be.

[saveahorserideaneddie]

fair warning: this is going to be a kinda negative/pessimistic post about the state if buddie in my mind, and is no way meant to cause any kind of anger in anyone who disagrees with me- you have every right to your opinion just like i have every right to mine- but i wanted to get my thoughts on the episode out into my echo chamber, so if you don’t want to read this please scroll now (those who would like to read please read under the cut, but do not come into my inbox or replies trying to start anything if you disagree bc you have been warned)🙏💕

the thing is i can’t even be mad at the episode because it was so reminiscent of the episodes that make me love this show as a show

but the buddie of it all was so disappointing…. like it felt like i was just watching any old episode with a buddie moment that will no doubt spark 50,000 edits and fanfics, but it wasn’t giving “these two are being set up for something more.”

it was literally just the same old buddie- like we got more close-to-going-canon energy in 8a than we did here, it was quite literally just the same dynamic they’ve had for seasons at this point, and while yeah they already act like a married couple, that’s what the GA is used to so if they were actually setting it up, wouldn’t they try to at least make a slight pivot into leaning more into the energy they have?

i’m tired so idk if i’m really articulating my thoughts as clearly as i’d like, but i hope y’all get what i’m trying to say here- like it definitely doesn’t feel like buck and eddie are being set up to like hate each other forever or that they are going to turn into sworn enemies or anything like that, but this ep very much was the same kind of “this is what the writers think best friends act like” energy that we’ve had since s2

i just wish we could have gotten something: a look, a moment, a glimpse of something that could be like “hey- this is different. this is new. you haven’t seen them like this before and that’s important.” but we got nothing like that.

i mean sure- the conversation with pepa was nice (after the random ass bombshell that she had a stroke which… ???? why was that not mentioned before OR taken into account when eddie was moving????) but it didn’t establish anything new for them; she just said “change is good” but like…. show us a hint of how things are going to change, y’know? it can’t be foreshadowing if there’s nothing of substance to support the foreshadowing (and at this point, we have one more episode of the season- are they seriously going to use all of this ryliver bait and all this “buddie” talk outside and not do anything in the show??)

bc like- until they confess and actually act on their feelings, they are not canon; because until there’s and actual action made, the writers have room to change their mind on things again, and suddenly the idea of buddie is getting pushed back to the end of season nine.

it’s been eight years. eight. years. and we’re no closer to buddie canon than we were at the start of s8. one of them may have a “feelings realization” next episode, but what will that be? just a prolonged glance? a face? something that can easily be explained away once ratings and viewership is up again and they don’t have to drag us along anymore? (until engagement inevitably drops again)

people keep talking about “we need pining” or “we need a slowburn” and im like, at this point anything hindering them from acting on their feelings is just delaying them actually going canon, and we run the risk of the writers just completely giving up (bc again- after eight years, the running in circles has to he exhausting for that writer’s room; it certainly is for me who has been here since day one)

if buddie have not confessed/acted on their feelings in any way after the next episode, then we need to accept that they are just blatantly attempting to queerbait us. because let’s be for real: if nothing happens next ep, what realistically could ryliver talk about pertaining to buddie’s future in these interviews? they won’t know anything, bc nothing has been developed or written. it would just be a whole bunch of “oh i guess we have to wait and see” shit.

which is why i still believe we are still being dragged along by the production to keep engagement going after it started tanking post-episode 15/16; because they have set up nothing for buddie in the finale (aside from individual moments maybe that don’t pertain to each other) and with a building collapse/explosion taking up an entire episode of screentime, we have no room for anything to be setup before credits roll.

overall- i didn’t hate the episode in terms of quality; it was well paced, written (aside from a couple nitpicks in character moments but nothing too drastic) and directed- and ofc the acting was amazing as usual- but from a buddie standpoint, it was not giving what all the buzz around buddie/eddie lately implied otherwise would be giving, and it looks like we’re just going to continue being baited throughout hiatus until they inevitably give one of them a new LI to “stir up drama” and then get stuck in the s6 situation where the show gets canceled and we’re stuck with nothing.

[melloeyed]

Could you please write some headcanons for Melancholy x Insect-like reader? Not like the humanoid flies from the show, but instead more "human" looking, if that makes sense. It'd mean a lot if you did it, though I'd also 100% understand if you don't. Have a nice day!

Mel X Insect!Reader Headcanons

A/N: This was a really interesting take! Thanks for requesting! I had a good time writing this🫀🫀🤘🏾🤘🏾

(Reader is Gender Neutral)

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GENERAL (PLATONIC):

• You were a weird specimen in an even weirder world. Of course the Rotlings of The Gaslight District were completely aware of the Litterbug demons that dwelled with them, but what the hell were you, exactly?

• You shared some traits with the Litterbugs, such as their eyes, wings, and antennas, but unlike them you had hair and a more humanoid appearance. Some people even mistakenly assumed that you were the cursed human, but like others you had purple blood.

• You met Mel when you fell asleep in the dumpster of the butcher shop after eating a buffet of garbage for supper. Mel was busy taking out the trash and nearly gave you a concussion when she threw the heavy trash bag on top of you, violently waking you up.

• You buzzed out of the dumpster in a fit of rage and began to curse Mel out, quickly provoking her. She would’ve stabbed you to death that night if she wasn’t immediately intrigued by your unique appearance.

“OUCH! What the hell, lady?! Watch where you throw those damn bags!”

“Hey, what-…what the hell are you?!”

• Mel being the curious little gremlin she was immediately wanted to discover as much as she could about you. She practically yanked you out of the dumpster and began to interview you with the threat of ending your life if you didn’t comply.

• At first you were completely bewildered by how ecstatic she was to get to know about you, but then you began to take a liking to her for how interesting she found you. That was a first in your life.

• You and Mel began to have secret meetings with each other after you two met. From walking in the streets, to sneaking in her room, you two would always find a good place to hold conversation. Eventually, you two became friends after a couple of days.

• Mel was absolutely dazzled with your special abilities as a humanoid insect. You could fly, stick on walls, have fast reflexes, practically eat anything, squeeze through impossibly tight spaces, and her favorite, vomit acid! She would occasionally ask you to puke acid on something to watch it melt, much to your dismay.

“Do it again, (Y/N)? Please, please, please?”

“Mel, you’re gonna give me a tummy ache!”

• Of your favorite things to do with Mel is to carry her while flying. You love hearing her excited giggles as you hovered in the air with her in your arms. She would sometimes playfully hold onto your legs while you were flying just to weigh you down a bit.

• You two would have your own little mischievous missions together whenever Ken wasn’t around. Pranking random Rotlings, stealing a bit of scarab from different places, killing Litterbugs for practice and sport, chaos would always follow you two wherever you went.

• Mel was glad that she finally found someone ‘unique’ to hang out with. Being a human, she’s always felt like an outcast in her own home until she met you. Like her, you were one of a kind and there possibly wasn’t another person like you.

• Eventually, Mel got tired of trying to hide her friendship and introduced you to Ken. At first he didn’t trust you, but when he saw how close you were to Mel and how happy you made her, he warmed up to you a bit, while keeping a close eye on you.

• Eventually, you got a job at the butcher shop as a cleaner after you told Mel you didn’t have a job or any scarab. Ken found your insectoid abilities to be pretty handy for work and often used you as a garbage disposal for leftover scraps.

• Mel will always have your back whenever someone messed with you. You were often perceived as a freak of nature and sometimes picked on by other Rotlings on some occasions.

“What the heck is that ugly…thing doing here?”

“What did you say about (Y/N)?!”

• You always have Mel’s back too. She often vents to you about how fed up she is about how overprotective Ken is towards her. You’re willing to tell off Ken about how he should cut Mel some slack when it comes to her safety (as long as he doesn’t cement you for it).

• Mel is completely conflicted on whether or not to tell you that she’s the black-blooded human. She practically sees you as family and is one of her closest friends, but considering what happened with Jack, her fears just kept her silent.

• Part of her thought that you wouldn’t care and still consider her a friend because of how much you can relate to her in being unique, but the other half of her thought that you wouldn’t care completely rat her out to the world out of fear and betrayal.

• You were a really special case in Mel’s life and she could’ve never asked for a better friend. She really couldn’t decide on whether or not if she was going to tell you her secret, but she didn’t wanna take any chances on losing you.

• You were always there for Mel whenever she was upset and practically cheered her up in the best ways. Making buzzing sounds for her, acting like a dumb fly, and telling her jokes always made her smile. Your jokes were terrible, but that’s what made them so funny.

“Hey, Mel! What’s the horniest bug in the insect family? A COCK-roach!”

“Shut the hell up, (Y/N)! Hahaha!”

• Mel also finds it funny and interesting when she sees your bug instincts kick in on some occasions. From you gawking dumbly at a street lamp with dilated pupils, being irresistibly attracted by the scent of trash, and occasionally bumping into walls when trying to leave the room, Mel always took notes whenever this happened.

ROMANTIC HEADCANONS:

• Mel really likes to brag about you on various occasions. She considers herself a lady Casanova for bagging a creepy bug cutie such as yourself. Winning the romance lottery is one thing that she shall wear as a badge of honor.

• On free days, Mel occasionally would snuggle with you in her bed while reading magazines and sometimes play with your antennas whenever she got bored.

• Whenever you begin your seasonal molting, Mel would always comment how great and fresh you looked after you were finished and insisted on keeping your old shell for studying with it.

“Babe, are you sure you want to keep that? I usually eat it once I’m done…”

“Relax! Besides you eat all of the time!”

• There was one time when Mel saw you in the nude while molting and instead of being completely grossed out by it, she actually found it kind of…hot? This moment immediately gave you insight on how hardcore your girlfriend was.

• Make out sessions with Mel are always risky, but that’s what makes it more fun in your opinion. While making out, Mel knows how to fluster you by stroking your wings that are sensitive to the touch.

• You sometimes like to give Mel massages or at least rub her all over. You love how squishy and soft her flesh feels against your crawly hands and antennas and sometimes affectionately nibble and lick her cheeks. Others are completely grossed out by this, but Mel finds it extremely flattering. Besides, you’re an insectoid, so of course you love flesh!

[pearlsinoystersflesh]

Shot Through The Heart.

vi x reader

this was an ask from @uluv2h8me , i lost the request somehow, but thank you!!

wc: 2.3k

summary: vi doesn't do feelings. her time in stillwater prison has stripped her of that- she walks and lives empty. but once she lays eyes on you- a zaunite she had never seen before, one she thinks can finally fill that void eating at her- she wont let you go.

warnings: stalking, obsessive behaviours, you two smoke together(?), slight age gap (reader is 24, vi is 21), smut that is surprisingly gentle. vi is secretly a nerd shhh

authors note: all my titles have been song lyrics 😭 music resides so deeply within me. anyway, heres the fic.

no night in the streets of zaun have ever felt this way, not while you lived there, which was your entire life. everyone was loud- the gangs huddled in the streets or the kids running and playing, the adults arguing and the sound of fist on skin. if you ever felt the need to be silent, it was due to your fear. but that was so unlikely in these streets- everyone was loud, and you counted. but tonight was different. the glow of the moon casted an emerald light over the undercity, and a cool, crisp breeze chased you. it felt wrong to talk. it was a time where everyone wanted to be silent, but for a different reason than fear. it was so otherworldly, so peaceful, that a simple tainted word would ruin that completely, break it and crush it and mold it back into the zaun you knew. so, it was quite. it was the peace the people had longed for. your parents would be happy, if they could see this. see you.

you were walking to your night shift at a bakery. it was almost 8, and for the first hour people piled in, and as it got later all you really did was pack orders and write down details for the icing on a cake that needed packing the next morning.

if there was one thing you loved, it was icing cupcakes. it was so simple, yet it was so carefully done, so carefully crafted, the only time you would be intricate and calculated in your work. it was something you let yourself have, weirdly.

the bell chiming snaps you out of your trance. you look up, ready to greet the customer in the way you had been trained- a greeting, and offering them a sample of a new icing. but, you sigh when you saw them. it was a girl who always came in here late at night, during only your shift apparently- none of you coworkers had seen her. she wore a hoodie, a cheap red jacket, and pants painted with different browns. you didn't know what she looked like, but you knew her hair was pink- it stuck out of her hoodie.

"good evening, would you like to try a free sample?"

you dont wait for a response. she never gave you one. at this point you say it cause its protocol, not because you long to hear her voice like the first couple times. its grown almost annoying.

several other customers pile in, and you greet them and serve them with a free sample, and you bring whatever order to their table. when it hits nine the shop is empty- except for her, of course. you dont mind her, going to the back to pack an order. the back is always cold, no matter the weather outside. the counters are steel and cold so the cakes stay cold. you place one down- it was your favourite of the week, a white base with black lacey icing. it was for an anniversary party, and you work quickly to pack it. you place it in the fridge.

when you leave the back, you look at the table that woman always sits in- and she wasn't there. you shrug. maybe she left?

but as you walk back to the cashier, she's there, looking at the cupcakes of the day and the special icing you sampled. your eyes widen- she wasn't looking at you, actually allowing you to see her face.

"oh- hi, good evening. would you like to try a sample?"

you ask again, and this time she replies.

"yeah. you have to have vanilla, right?"

your eyes widen for a moment in shock. she stares, deadpanned. you clear your throat and nod.

"yes, yes of course. here"

moving jerkily, you take a small spoon of the vanilla, holding it out to her with strangely shaking hands. she almost intimidated you. she didn't know why.

she takes the spoon from you, making sure she didn't touch you or brush your hand, and eats it. she doesn't change her expression, not at all, just simply nods.

"yeah. ill take that."

she was very simple, you realized. very straightforward, to the point. but she was strange. so simple it was complex, she was a web. you felt stuck. you nod, turning your back, taking a plain cupcake and icing it with the vanilla she sampled. you put it in a pink box, close it up and push the tabs, and then hand it to her. she pays in cash, not putting it down on the counter but instead holding it up in the air until you took the bill yourself. you fell deeper into the web.

she sits- she eats here, but she only eats half, and she throws the other half out. she sits there silently until closing- she had no phone or book or anything to entertain herself. you almost pitied her.

"im sorry, we're closing. we open at nine"

you politely say, and she doesn't answer or nod, only standing and leaving. she waits outside the shop to the left. you take your apron off and hang it, move to the door and set the sign as 'closed'. you lock the shop, aware of that woman who waited, for some reason. you begin to walk; she begins to follow.

its dark, but that peaceful feeling from earlier still lingers. "its vi"

you stop walking. your face contorts in confusion.

"im sorry?"

"my name. its vi."

she begins to walk, even though your still still, and you feel the need to follow her. so you do.

you tell her your name, and vi almost slips up, almost says she 'knows' already, but she bites her lip. she walks in the same direction as you until she spots your apartment in the distance. she breaks ways without saying anything.

she stays in an alley until you're far enough away, and then walks to opposite direction home.

the next three nights you dont see her. she doesnt come at all. it feels almost empty, like your writhing out of that web she had you stuck in. but anyway, the store was closing up. you take your apron off, and thats when the door slams open and the bell hits the wall. it scares you, and you flinch, turning your back. its her. her presence doesn't comfort you in any way.

"we're- vi, we're closed"

you speak, confused as to her demeanour. she doesnt stop walking, getting right up to you.

"please. one cupcake. ill even pay extra if you stay here, sit with me maybe?"

the only metaphor for the way you felt would be a fly, once again. she was the spider, making the web so meticulously and intricately, with its main goal to get you stuck in it. and her invitation was like her pounce- you were fucking stuck. and so were your words, stuck in your throat. all you could do was bite your tounge and nod.

you weren't scared of her, no, you were kind. too kind, sometimes. the situation reminded you of when you were nine, when you shared lunch with a homeless man beside a garbage dump. you probably shouldn't have done it, for he could have been dangerous. but you did, and you felt good about it. about yourself. when you said it like that, it made you sound rather selfish. it also made you sound like you were comparing vi to a homeless man beside a dump, which you... were, but didnt mean to.

the coversation was a rather awkward exchange, if it was an exchange at all. no words were said. she ate, but once again only half of her cupcake. and then, she spoke up.

"let me buy you a cupcake."

again, the short sentences. you don't respond, because you felt as though no response was needed. she was already up, grabbing a cupcake with icing matching the colour and print of the shirt you wore. she left money in the cashier. she left a hefty tip. how could any zaunite have that kind of cash, to spend in a bakery for a stranger?

oh, but you were no stranger. not to her.

she watched you eat. it was unsettling, but comforting in a way that poked needles into your spine and soothed it with her tounge. it was so comforting it scared you, because you let it. the silence consumed you. you're officially in her web.

'let me walk you home?'

a stranger, asking to walk a woman home after her shift late at night. if you werent so afraid of the streets at this hour, you would have refused with a certainty that'd sooth you. but, you were, and so you agreed. she seemed nice. but didnt all the bad people?

the walk is good- you two talked, and it was refreshing. but it was different for vi. she just wanted to really see you, and whats better than learning where you live? she drops you off, but not before you two exchange numbers. to stay in touch, of course. she even offers to help with the shop. she wants to hug you, and its evident, but she pauses. she ends up walking off.

the nights continued to pass like this for weeks. that peaceful, otherworldly silence zaun had experienced weeks ago was over, but it wasn't all bad. it was like a wave of nostalgia hitting you, and while it was rather annoying, it was home.

"you never ask to come over"

you speak as vi walks you home one night. it had become routine. she had become a safe person for you.

"i thought it'd be weird"

"oh hell, who cares. c'mon"

you press, smiling annoyingly at her, she scoffs, trying and failing miserably to hide her smile. at the end, she reluctantly agrees. she already knew your home- apartment windows werent that hard to see through with a safe distance and no blinds. but, though she was afraid of slipping up, she agreed. for you.

the first few steps seemed like a movie montage. it was slow, like time stopped for vi. she scanned the area, then scanned you, like for the first time she was really seeing you. she smiled, slow, calculated but still sweet in that way that was so authentically hers. you smile back and flop onto your couch. she walks around, looking and taking note. it surprises her that you don't mind.

one thing leads to another, and your both sat on your bed, rolling and smoking. you've never been high, and she promises she'll make sure to stop you before you hit that point, though you're not sure that's how it works. but after a joint you two shared, and put away, everything is slightly blurred at the edges, and nothing is scary or awkward, if it ever was. your hands find and fiddle with her zipper.

she smiles, looking at you, eyes filled with lust. 'hm?'

she hums, like she knows you enough to know you want something. and maybe she does- it had been a while.

you only grin, slowly pulling her jacket down. once its off, you lay it carefully on your pillow, which she quickly works to push you down against. you sigh, closing your eyes and letting yourself have this.

she leans down, but stops. you open your eyes. she's giving you a moment to decide, but you dont quite get it.

"you want to? please be sure."

she whispers, her voice soft, like shes going out of her way to make sure you aren't scared. you nod

"words, please. i wont do anything till i know you're sure."

you smile. the tenderness in her healed you. "yes, violet. im sure."

right at your confirmation, her lips crash into yours and she lowers herself fully. she's fast but gentle, moving down your neck. she lifts your dress up, pulling your panties to the side. you gasp at the air hitting your bare cunt, cold. you shiver. she plunges two fingers in, moaning herself at the warmth. you gasp again. she doesnt move, letting you adjust.

she doesnt pressure you, letting you take every minute you need. when you're ready, you tap her shoulder, and she curls her fingers. then, she starts to pull out and plunge back in, gently but fast enough to make you feel good. your legs wrap around her.

"you're so beautiful like this. all the time."

she whispers, kissing onto your tits and neck, taking your nipple into her mouth. she hums against your skin

"tell me what you need. ill give you anything."

she says, already breathless. your breathing heavy, whining.

"no, no- perfect, please"

she smiles, not a mocking smile, but one that genuinely appreciates this- you, this moment with you. she drinks you in.

"good, oh you're so good."

you clench hard. she shushes you, telling you to cum when you're ready. you let go, cumming all over her. it hits her shirt. you slump back. she sucks her fingers clean and kisses you.

she gets a warm cloth, wiping you dry and dressing you. she cooks for you- pasta and chicken, which she had learned from months of watching you that it was your favourite. she stays while you eat.

she braids your hair before bed, but she cant stay. you dont think to ask why, and she clearly appreciates it.

walking out, she closes the door for you, telling you to sleep well. you stand, going over to your drawer to get the glass of water she placed there from the food she made. your drawer is cracked open.

you open it the rest of the way and smile at the sight- your bra was gone, the one you wore that day. and, not to your surprise, so were your panties. but she could have that, that part of you- until next time, of course.

[qoldenskies]

Do you have anything to say about cc Donnie and Splinter? Any crumbs? I need them🥺

I UNDERSTAND YOU THEY ARE THE SWEETEST.... im trying to think about what i could say hrmmmm. i love how endeared cc!splinter finds donnie when he's being like,, earnestly himself. i think he's always found him charming (he loves his baby so much!!!!) but he's not really laughing at him or anything anymore, when he kind of did before? in the kind of way someone would do so to a much younger child; i think it's a big reason he accidentally disregarded donnie's feelings, because he was out of their lives for so long once the depression hit and sometimes he's hit in the face with the fact that they're fully-formed individuals with serious emotional dilemmas and complexes and such (he didn't miss them developing, but he wasn't all there). he's not that way anymore with the curse said and done. he's learned his lesson.

honestly he's the one who respects donnie's autonomy the most out of anyone (behind mikey, who even then has to contend with a lot of trauma that can inhibit him). that's his sweet little baby boy but he's also going to be the first one to gently push him out of his comfort zone and encourage him to try new things, while the others are weak and will fold like a house of cards in most circumstances. this kind of adds a new flavor to their dynamic that im trying to put into words,,, it's like, splinter makes it so everything is an inside joke between them, in a way. he'll make an underhanded joke to one of the others and wink at donnie to make him laugh. he's always pushing him to take up more space, to assert himself and ask for a little more. he finds the way the other three will trip over themselves to accommodate him to be adorable, although he worries when it goes too far. he's gentle in a way that doesn't make donnie feel guilty. he's a breath of fresh air when donnie feels overwhelmed, because splinter makes it all feel so seamless sometimes.

there's a lot of silly jokes about how he doesn't have favorites, but also it's donnie (they all know its just him playing around but i dont even think they'd pretend to be upset for the sake of the joke, i think they'd just sagely nod like its the most understandable thing ever). he goes out of his way to make him feel loved without making it completely serious, because he understands that's relieving. he's really good at letting donnie in on the joke without being pushy about it. he's different than he was before but he lets donnie feel so normal in a lot of ways, and it's a breath of fresh air sometimes. i think more than anything splinter just wants to see him happy and smiling again, and he'll support pretty much anything that allows that. he can do whatever he wants forever 💖 the others have their limits because they care about his safety maybe a little too much but splinter will enable his deranged behavior now, he deserves to do a little more terrorism. as a treat

anyways donnie is going to be absolutely fucking devastated and inconsolable when he dies i hope you know that

[tonya-the-chicken]

So, you agree that the story is a complete mess and the more you try to make sense of it, the less comprehensive it seems? What is the point of spending time overanalysing something that wasn't put enough effort into? I kinda only do that because I am obsessively in love with Endeavor but it's a waste of time. It just brings me pleasure I guess. There is nothing serious about our conversation because I cannot treat bnha as a serious work and compare it to FMA. That would be an insult to Hiromu Arakawa

It is thought-provoking, but making something thought-provoking is relatively easy. Asking questions is easy. Pondering them is a completely different thing. The depth is not there. Even things that appealed to me initially are not that well-done, there're works that do it so much better. To me, bnha is not much of a work of art but just a commercial product

And further, get annoyed at the characters "responsible"? (I mean, the author is the pupeteer but in-universe he doesn't exist, so it falls onto whoever did it in-story)

That is very much something I disagree with. The relationships between characters and their authors are much more complicated than between the puppeteer and the puppets. The author is the creator (sort of like god) but he cannot control characters the way you control a puppet. I think everyone had a moment when they read a work and thought, "they would not say that" or "the author is forcing it" because in many cases, the author really is forcing it. It feels "unnatural" because the characters are not just dolls in the author's hands; they have their own personalities and lives. You have to think of characters as their own separate people. The author doesn't control the characters; they make their choices (and furthermore, the world is similar in the regard that the author can't change it on a whim; it all has to make sense, exist without his intervention). So if you know a character and the author introduces a new problem in front of them, you should be able to guess how they behave. If the characters behave in an unnatural way, it is the author's fault for forcing them. And if the author breaks the established world to force something, again, it is the author's fault. When a character acts a certain way because that is the choice they are making based on their personality, then it is not the author to blame (though maybe you can blame the author for creating such a character; can you blame god for what humans do out of their own free will?). I think you have to distinguish it for good literary analysis. The characters do make mistakes, but if their mistake was god's intervention, can you really blame them? No

Ok, gonna be controversial, and maybe it's because my country's been at war for almost half of my life but why are people so hang up on Hawks and Endeavor killing Twice and The High-End Nomu respectively?

Ok, they killed guys who actively tried to murder people and showed no signs of stopping. The heroes considered other ways of dealing with situations, but they failed or were impossible to execute. And that is like what, a bad thing?

"Heroes kill the bad guys" I sure hope they fucking do! Not as the first line of action, but if there's no other way, I am not going to hold it against them that they got their hands dirty so regular folks can sleep peacefully (and at the end of the day, it's shounen)

Like, neither Hawks nor Endeavor are the issue here. They are doing their job and doing it correctly. Though I would admit that HPSC seems too relaxed about killing people and the whole Lady Nagant plotline is A LOT. Ideally, there should be some sort of internal investigation, and they should be really serious about that, but idk bnha worldbuilding is kinda meh I can't tell you how all these organizations even function. There's barely any political life in there

And I like Twice, man. I was sad it happened, but he is a villain. He is part of the organization of murderers that want to boom boom the world like be serious