#ah yes i remember the last one like it was yesterday

[fazcinatingblog]

Happy CPA results eve

[rodeorun]

love in the dark.

yandere pretty boyfriend x fem!reader.

cw: drugging, black-mail, non-con blowjob, degradation. Featuring @meo-eiru 's OC, Elias ❤️

MDNI.

“You better work,” Elias threatened the baby pink candle he was holding between pretty, manicured fingers.

One might even compare it to the young man himself. Long and more thin than thick, the pink wax at the tip molded into a heart shape, white wick sticking through the middle. Elias always had love on the brain, at least when it came to you. Pity he didn't have a fine white wick of logic to split his head in two, or rather, his heart. But, when you love the way he did, weren't those two practically the same thing?

He doesn't know how many hours he spent on the dark web to find this, some sort of ‘love candle.’ Whatever that bullshit meant. The description the seller left behind was short and to the point.

‘Ignite this candle in the presence of your desired person and watch them fall in love with you.’

Even Elias in all his lovesickness found it hard to believe, but it was that sickness itself that led him to purchasing the item. He hadn't gotten a gig lately so he prayed for the payment to go through, giving himself a headache for purchasing a mere candle that was six hundred and fifty dollars. God, the things he would do for you (or to you, but that's a completely different matter.)

You, the object of his affections. His sweet, sweet, sweet best friend who has saved him more times than he could count. You were entirely too good for him and he knew it.

A special knock on his door alerted him to your presence, and he knew it was you because you two had created that very knock in sophomore year of university. Long after he changed his name, you still had the heart to played with him like a child. Where others laughed at his girlish tears and overgrown sobs, you healed his inner child with every hug, every whisper, every time you'd look into his eyes and tell him, ‘it's okay, Elias. I'm here for you.’

And you always were.

No matter how bad his tantrums got, you never got sick of him. You were the only one who stayed. You practically conditioned him. How could he ever want anyone else after tasting a drop of your sweetness?

“Hi, darling!” Elias opened the door and pulled you in for a hug, kicking the door shut behind you. “Someone's mighty dressed up for a movie night in, hehe. Oooh, is this wine? Gimme gimmie!”

Taking the bag from your hands, Elias turned to put it on the table, laying a sweaty palm against his flushed cheek. Heaven, he couldn't do this much longer! Just a hug from you and a whiff of that perfume had him hardening in his yoga pants. He stayed faced away from you as he rocked side to side, subtly rubbing himself against the bottle you brought just for him. All for him.

“So, I was thinking we could start with a rom-com and then maybe a western, for variety, and after that there's a three hour long horror movie I found that-”

“Sorry, Elias.”

Glittering eyelids opened themselves.

“See, my boyfriend injured his arm in a game yesterday, so I need to go help cook for him,” you explained. Your sorry eyes seared into his back.

Ah, yes. That boyfriend of yours. Taller than Elias, bigger than Elias, handsome enough to be called a heartthrob and an athlete by profession. A real winner, that boyfriend of yours!

Elias wanted to spit on his corpse.

“Oh, your boyfriend!” He clasped his hands together and turned to face you. “The one who forgot to pick you up at the mall last week because he slept through his alarm, right? I remember him.” Elias fiddled with one of the bottles of wine now, snarling. So much for a ‘gift,’ you were just trying to buy his forgiveness.

“Yes, Eli, that boyfriend,” you chuckled. “But I forgave him for that, you know? Nobody's perfect.”

The illusion of bliss he was swept up in from hearing that sweet nickname quickly shattered.

‘Nobody's perfect.’ Elias knew that better than anyone else. Afterall, he was the last thing but, and yet you still treated him so preciously.

So, why? Why was it the very same thing he fell in love with you for, you were flaunting to just anyone? Don't you know that love isn't free? Especially not yours! How many bottles of hair dye, micro-needling appointments, collagen fillers, and waxing appointments did he go to for your love? By God he knows his deadname didn't deserve you, but didn't Elias at least earn a little bit of your attention?

How dare you, honestly. How dare you show someone else the kindness you won him over with? How dare you waltz in here just to stand him up for another man! How dare you fucking-

“Eli?”

“Yes, my beloved?”

You looked upon him tentatively, a testament to what a ticking time bomb he is. “Oh, alright, I forgive you.” He waved you off playfully and walked over to hold both of your hands in his. “But next time, I'll tie you up and keep you here forever, munchkin~”

Your laugh mingled with his. As if you thought he was joking.

“Ah, but, darling! At least have a drink with me before you go. It would be lonely to pop open a bottle by myself, hm?”

A single drink.

That's what you and Elias agreed on. One glass and you'd be on your way to that wretch. You didn't drive to get here and assured Elias that your boyfriend would drive you back home. As if.

“Oh, before we cheers,” Elias put his glass down and went to rummage for a box of matches, shaking his hips this way and that while humming in his search.

“Someone's in a good mood,” you grinned, watching him groove to imaginary music.

“Yes, with you around I always am,” he teased and returned to the table. He put the candle in the stand and lit it.

It was only a little unsettling that he watched you instead of the matches while he did so.

“That's a really cute candle, Elias. Where'd you get it?” you asked him as he sat down across from you, drink in hand.

“Oh, this old thing? It's just something I had laying around- Oh my god!”

Elias flinched as the candle suddenly exploded, letting out a small puff of wind that blew his hair back and left behind a plume of pink smog.

“Darling?! Are you- ack! You okay?” Elias wafted the air between hacking coughs until he could see your face again.

You looked shocked, as one would when a candle explodes in their face, but then you started laughing. Small titters that rang like a bell until it turned into gasps that made you grab your stomach.

“You're, hahahaha, so, so silly, Eli! Haha, where do you get these things?!”

Oh, honey. He couldn't stop loving you even if he tried.

“Oh, stop that, you! How was I supposed to know it would do that,” Elias played along, ears still tinged pink at his little blunder. You two looked at each other and then fell into joined laughter.

This light, airy feeling was a drug to him. No matter how boring he was, how flat his personality, you could always find something more in him. Something to talk about, to laugh about, to entertain him with. Something he couldn't find by himself.

It's like the universe sent you to him as if to say, ‘hey! This is the person who will make life worth living! The one who will take that mind numbing emptiness away!’

And who was he to deny the wishes of the universe?

“Worthless piece of junk,” Elias muttered when things settled down. The candle really was a sham then. “At least it smells nice,” he lit the candle again and waved the match to out it. “Anyways, I got a manicure today and the lady was way too rough with my cuticles. She should quit if that's the service she's going to give.”

He brought his nails up, inspecting the blood red polish.

He was met with silence.

“Darling?”

Your head was down, lip trapped between your teeth.

“R-Right. Well, it's pretty,” you shot him a sad kind of smile. “It's just, well, no. Hm, uh, no…I forgot, I guess?” Elias watched you scramble around until small tears dripped from your eyes. “I guess I just forgot that you see other women every day.”

His heart froze in his chest.

“And, I, I know she was just doing her job, but holding your hand while she did your nails- she did hold your hand, right? That's a little…”

You trailed off and wiped your tears, willing yourself to gather such thoughts while Elias looked on in shock.

His eyes flicked to the candle, to you, the candle, you. Always you.

“She did,” he said simply, cautiously, “hold my hand. Yes, she did.” Your face cumbled, making Elias shoot up. “But I hated it! I wished it was you! I want you to be the one holding my hand!”

“Really?” Those big, wet eyes pleaded with him. “Because, I get jealous, you know.”

Something below his belt started stirring.

“Is that so?” He hummed and pulled his chair over next to you, thumbing the tears under your eyes like you had done for him so many times before.

The light of the candle reflected in your eyes and when Elias glanced over, it had melted remarkably quickly. The leftover wax dripped onto the table but he couldn't care less.

First things first, he needed to make sure what he hypothesized was real. That this wasn't a ploy.

“You know, dear, I was very hurt when you started going out with that bastard. You hurt me, a lot. How do you think I felt?” He cooed like you were a child, soft and gentle in his palm.

“I'm so sorry, Eli. I'll break up with him, okay? I only want you! I'm really- mmph!”

Not the romantic first kiss he was dreaming of, but perfect nonetheless.

All this groveling and begging, over little ol’ him? It was too cute. He could just eat you up! But before that, it seems Elias was going to be devoured first.

“Darling? Ngh!” You were tangling your tongue with his, sucking his lips, his cheeks, his tongue, leaving little nibbles on his blushing skin. “Hold on, I need to-”

“Need to what, Eli? I need you right now,” you swallowed, “I feel like my body is on fire.”

Oh, god, the candle really did work. You were squirming on your chair, rubbing your legs together and giving him the absolute cutest puppy eyed stare. You wanted him. You wanted him.

“Yeah?” Elias said breathlessly, trying to keep pace with you, “well I think I need an apology for you cheating on me first.”

He stood up and pulled his oversized sweater up, letting you peek at the bulge growing underneath tight grey cotton.

“Oh, Eli! It's so pretty!” You weren't shy about rubbing him over his pants. “All of you is so, so pretty, baby. Can I…suck you?”

“Darling, I'm yours!” He said eagerly, the sudden onslaught of praise leaving him dizzy. “Anything you want to do, I'm yours!”

By the time you peeled down his pants and had his leaking dick positioned at your mouth, he was ready to burst. He was entirely ready to finally get his reward, but you hesitated.

“Wait, Eli. I think we should wait, um…my boyfriend. I should break up with him first.”

That goddamn candle should have come with a special feature to make you forget anyone but him all together.

Elias probably looked terrifying right now, fine features underlit by the glow of the candle, staring down at you harshly. For once, he didn't find your babbling cute. Not when every other word was your boyfriend's name. So, Elias kindly shut you up.

“There we go~” Elias cooed, thrusting his hips a little. “Ah, ah, darling. Don't run from it,” he giggled, “or I'll shove it down your fucking throat~”

You were choking on his cock, unable to pull away with how he had his fingers locked behind your head. More than you moving, it was Elias who was pumping himself in and out of your mouth, not stopping until his balls slapped against your chin every time.

“What a good little thing you are, angel. I love you so much! Hey, do you love me too? I asked if you loved me too!”

Even under the effects of the candle, you looked scared. Elias was frantic now, not only his balls hitting your chin, but his toned abdomen smashing into your face as he fucked your entire head roughly. “Dirty fucking bitch! I trusted you! I love you and you left me for dead to go date that idiot! Do you know how much that hurt me?! How much I need you?! You were supposed to me mine, all mine, just like I'm yours! You dirty, dirty f-fucking whore!” Elias let out a wet sob, spilling down your throat with his eyes screwed shut.

Heavy pants left his mouth as he stumbled back to sit on his chair, chest heaving up and down. Even through your coughing, you couldn't help but worry about him.

“Eli? A-Are you okay?”

What a wreck your voice was, no doubt you'd be feeling him in your throat for days.

“It's not all out.”

“Huh? I don't understand-”

“Lift your shirt up.” He wasn't asking.

The smooth expanse of your chest was revealed and Elias used it as extra motivation to get the last few drops of cum out, fisting his tip roughly to pull out those last thick strings. It pearled on your skin beautifully and you didn't hesitate to stick your tongue out, cleaning him off properly with soft sucks that made him tremble.

“Good girl,” he sighed and eventually sat. It was like the devil was released from him. He was just Elias again, your Eli. “That was my first blowjob, you know,” he giggled cutely, like you two were mischievous kids sharing secrets in a treehouse.

Elias sighed and leaned in to hug you after lifting his pants back over his soft length. “Oh, my baby. I can't believe this worked. Had I known, I wouldn't have done this sooner. I can't believe you're finally mine,” he mumbled into your hair. “I love you, darling. And you love me too, right?”

Silence.

“Darling?”

Elias held you at shoulder length away, not wanting to let go of you completely yet. “Hey, why the tears, darling? Hehe, do you love me that much? Aw, well-”

“I'm sorry, Elias.” Your dark pupils met his.

There was no reflection from the candlelight anymore. In fact, the flame had blown out completely by now, leaving behind a sad little puddle of wax.

Your arms pushed his off as you stood up. “Shit…I- oh god, my boyfriend. What's wrong with me?! I'm sorry, Eli- I mean, Elias, um, I think the wine was a bit too strong for me. I really didn't mean to…”

What the hell was this?! Was this- did your love only last while the candle was lit?!

“What the fuck!” Elias cursed loudly, fingers gripping his silky tresses. The situation was beckoning a meltdown.

“I know, Elias, I'm so sorry, but I don't know what came over me!”

You were scared, he could see it. And he's sure part of that fear was from the ache in your throat, the names he had called you when he was at the peak of bliss. How he carried on when he was so sure you were his completely. Over what, a stupid candle? He was an idiot! He had to do damage control.

“It's…alright, darling. It's okay. Hm,” Elias hummed as he thought, standing up to pace. “It's okay. Your boyfriend is waiting for you after all, run along now. It's getting late.”

“Elias?” You weren't sure what was going on.

“Don't worry, dear,” Elias looked at you with warm eyes. “I can keep a secret. We just got a little overwhelmed, didn't we?”

He was giving you a way out, obviously. But why?

“Right,” you said, unsure.

“That's okay, we all have our moments,” Elias giggled and walked over, wrapping his arms around you, letting one sneak down to cup your ass. “Some more than others.”

“I don't think we should be-”

“Be what? You already swallowed my load, pumpkin. Let it dribble all down your chin and everything,” he mused, rubbing a finger against your lower lip. “Or did you want to come clean to your boyfriend?”

“No! I really don't know what happened!”

“Then it's a secret,” Elias whispered, pulling you in for a kiss. You were helpless to him, unable to pull away under the looming threat of him snitching on you. His tongue traced your lips before he pulled away.

“I won't tell if you won't, darling.”

Elias sent you off with a few more kisses and a slap on your ass, already hard again and humping you like a dog all the way to the door where you left with tears in your eyes. You were just too cute!

It wasn't much, but it was something. The only excitement Elias could offer you. Now, he had a personality.

He was your secret lover.

“Aha! How wonderful!” Elias twirled around in excitement. What an adventure!

Soon, he'd guilt your sweet soul into breaking up with that idiot and you'd be all his. He already had a foot in the door after all.

Bringing a hand to his lips, he recalled the way yours felt against his. Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!

Hmm..

Elias took his phone out and sent you a quick text.

‘I think I left some lipstick on you, darling. Clean that up before you see you know who ;)’

Not even moment later, his phone rang.

“Hey, Elias?”

“Eli,” he corrected.

“Yeah, can you not-”

“Eli.”

“…Eli. Uh, can you not send texts like that, please? Just in case he sees.”

A shiver ran up Elias’ spine at the secrecy of it all. You two were bound by sin.

“Of course, darling. I'll call you tonight then.”

“I'm spending the night with him,” you said nervously. “I can't.”

“Alright then, I'll just text you,” Elias inspected his nails casually.

“But-! Ugh, fine. I'll call you later.”

“Perfect. We'll talk soon then. Make sure your camera is on, I'm still throbbing over here,” he giggled.

“I have to go now,” you whispered.

“I love you, darling.”

“Yes, he's coming so-”

“I said I love you!”

“…I love you too, Eli. Bye.”

Elias waited for you to hang up with a smile. You were already cracking under the pressure of your unwanted affair. Sure it would hurt you now, but if this didn't last long then it would be him hurting later. Surely, you wouldn't be able to deal with that, not your kind heart. After all, his beauty is something that shouldn't be marred, you said so yourself.

It was only a matter of time now.

a/n: I actually finished this over a week ago but the Elias lore kept pouring in and I was scrambling to edit to make this as canon as possible but I gave up sooooo, yeah 😃 just imagine this as eli if he actually acted on half the shit he wants to do ig lmfaooo

Also can't believe I wrote unwilling reader because Elias is literally my baby muffin snuggly pie googlie bear and i love him, but i love men suffering more ig 💗

Divider: /animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Please do not ask for part 2. Thank you!

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader

W/C: 6.9K (oh god lol) #NSFW, fingering, implied fucking, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, angst, fluff, smut, happy ending, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is an actor, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), Gojo is an actor, Getou is a manager/agent, Toji is a stunt coordinator, Jin is a teacher tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @watyousayin 

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. The fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised with a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

Truth is out–Ryoumen Sukuna is the father, (Name) tells fans on social media!

Sukuna hated seeing that shit. The circus celebrities had to dance through used to be funny until he somehow got swept up into it. Until he suddenly had a baby boy that looked so much like him and so much like you. 

He spent too much time on your socials, scrolling through promotion posts and photos of you at red carpet events and premieres–and then he remembered you had a private account. One that you said he could follow. One that he never followed.

Sukuna rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he sulked in bed. Was he really about to sacrifice his pride for this? Was he seriously gonna request to follow your personal account just moments after articles dropped and tweets were sent about him being the baby daddy? Could his pride take it? 

Fuck me. This shit is highschool. 

He requested to follow, and not even a minute later, you approved it. 

That had him interested. Did you want him to follow? Did you want him to be part of his little guy's life? Were you feeling a rush of anxiety and excitement like he was right now? 

“Get over it, you fucking idiot,” he mumbled to himself before scrolling through your photos. 

There was so much more here. So many photos of you pregnant, of Touma when he was so ridiculously itty bitty, of when you were recovering in the hospital, looking worn out and exhausted, but still beaming as you held your little boy. 

There were photos of his first birthday and the cute…rustic cake you'd apparently made yourself. Your agent, Getou, was there, as was one of your fellow agency mates, Gojo, along with some other folks Sukuna did and didn't recognize. 

Of course, his boy–your boy lit up the centre, eyes glittering with the reflection of sparklers and the warmth of a good, safe home. He was happy. The boy–his boy–your boy was happy. 

Then he called you. He couldn't help it, not anymore.

Sukuna paced around his penthouse, sipping on his spiked coffee and trying to desperately control his…nerves? Alpha instincts? Excitement? Fuck, he didn't know. But he was full of whatever it was, and it drove him nuts.

“Hi!” You answered as you picked up, so full of life as usual. “Been a while. How're you? What's up?” 

Sukuna felt so, so old suddenly. Why were you so awake in the morning? 

“Think you can spare some of that pep in your step for me?” Sukuna asked. He smiled when he heard you laugh on the other line. “Dunno how the hell you're so awake in the morning.”

“Well, I don't party or work on cars until the crack of dawn,” you purred back, so sweet and teasing. Sukuna almost got hard. Ugh. Ugh. What the fuck was wrong with him? 

“Hah? What, you sayin’ I'm irresponsible ‘n make shitty choices, babe?” 

“Absolutely.” 

“Tch. Omegas.” 

You snickered again before cutting to the chase: “So, you're calling about my Touma?”

Sukuna swallowed. “Yeah. Gotta say I'm pretty fucking confused.”

“Yeah, I get it.” He heard you shift in bed, triggering a rumble of grumpy noises from your little one. You hushed him gently and apologized before the small, crackly purring resumed faintly in the background. The thought made Sukuna's heart ache.

“What do you wanna know?” 

Sukuna inhaled deeply. “Why'd you keep it?” 

“I wanted him,” you said. “Next question.”

“...When did you know?” 

“Mmh…I guess about a week or two after we stopped hooking up.”

“And you didn't say shit?” 

You went silent for a moment, and Sukuna felt his nerves tingle and prick. He wasn't anxious. He wasn't feeling betrayed. It wasn't any of that. Absolutely not. 

“I guess I got cold feet,” you admitted. “I don't--I know how many baby daddy accusations you get, y'know? I didn't want you to think I was just trying to get you to pay me out or something.” 

Oh. Okay. That made sense, actually. 

Too many omegas and women Sukuna fucked around with pointed the finger at him if they caught some sort of STI or fell pregnant; even if it was months after fucking, Sukuna would be suspected of fathering the pregnancy of a newly-pregnant, ex-partner he hadn't seen in eternities, and the media would run to the ends of the earth with it. He was the infamous bad boy the media circuit loved to prey on. And Sukuna didn't really care for it–not until now. Not until those fucks ruined his opportunity to be a dad. 

“Fucking–” Sukuna sighed and put his mug down to rub his face. “Shit. Shit. Fucking media bastards. Fuck.”

“I need to get my car tuned,” you said.

Sukuna deadpanned. “Read the fucking room, babe, we're not–”

“Do you want me to bring Touma?” You finished, undeterred by the alpha's grouchiness. “So you can meet him? I think he'd like that.”

Oh. Oh. Ouch. His heart–was Sukuna about to die? Why'd his chest hurt so much? What the fuck? 

Sukuna cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “I–yeah? Yeah. Alright.” 

“Okay, cool. When's your next–” 

“Tomorrow.” He cleared his throat again and scratched at the back of his neck. “Any time.” 

You stifled a laugh poorly. “Don’t be nervous, Sukuna.” 

“M'not. Fuck you.” 

“I can do tomorrow. Let's saaay…1pm?” 

“Yeah, sure. 1pm.”

You rolled up at 12:59pm. 

Sukuna had the garage open, everything tidy and ready to go like he actually gave a fuck about tuning your car when his literal fucking son was about to be in his presence. But he was so not nervous. Definitely not fucking nervous. Nope. Nuh-uh. Never. 

You stepped out of the car and Sukuna felt his heart jump; you looked the same as you did last time he saw you. You were dressed more casually, though, done up in joggers and runners with a university hoodie to top it all off. Clearly, you didn't care to impress today. 

You threw Sukuna an easy smile before pulling open the back door and taking care in plucking your chubby bunny from his car seat. All the while, Sukuna wandered closer and closer, but maintained a respectful distance just in case your momma bear came out to bite. He knew you had an impressive temper when your easy-going self got pushed too far, and he would rather not bring that out right now. 

“Pa!” Your son yipped as soon as he got up into your arms. “Puh Pa!” 

You melted immediately, punching Sukuna in the gut with your happy scent of maple syrup and cardamom as the little one nuzzled up to you, repeating variants of “pa!” as he rubbed his chubby cheeks and snotty nose against your neck and face to get that perfect scent onto him. 

“You're so sweet, bunny,” you cooed and adjusted him in your arms as you met Sukuna the rest of the way. “Hey, hey! So, did you want to meet him first, or–?” 

Sukuna didn't know what the fuck to do, honestly. 

“I, uh. Car shit first. What needs tuning?” He drawled, watching the pup clinging to you with rapt attention. 

Admittedly, Sukuna didn't really pay attention to what you were saying and what you were gesturing to; he was too captivated by the faint wisps of scent he caught from your little one. He smelled of smoke and syrup–a perfect combination of his parents’ scents. 

And he just looked so much like the both of you. Touma's skin tone tilted more your direction, but the glowy, bronzey quality that Sukuna brought to the table still shone through in its own weird way. His eyes were almond-shaped like his own, but bore the same, welcoming colour of yours. And, fuck, his hair was just a perfect match to Sukuna's. If the little shit got Maori tattoos too, he'd be a tiny carbon copy. 

Damn. Speaking of–would his mom wanna meet the little shit? Her grandson? Would she ever bother leaving Hawaii to–

“You get all that?” You asked. 

Sukuna stared at you. “Get what?” 

You pursed your lips like you so often did and turned to the big, bad alpha. 

“Maybe we should do the meet ‘n greet first, huh?” You swayed a little and kissed Touma awake. “Baby, you wanna meet a friend?” 

“Buh!” Touma exclaimed. You gently guided his little face to look at Sukuna, and the boy looked star struck staring up at the absolute unit that was Ryoumen Sukuna. 

“Touma, this is Sukuna.” You closed the gap between the two of you a little more, and Sukuna leaned down to look at the little one. His little one. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as he looked over the little thing. “You sure this thing’s mine? Looks a little small.” 

You laughed. “If you were born as big as you are, I’m so, so sorry for your mother.” You nuzzled Touma’s little cheek and bounced him a little. 

“Wuh!” Touma’s little arms flew up towards Sukuna, and the towering man looked a little more than nervous, looking at the tiny pudgy hands like they were deadly weapons. 

“Come on, don’t look at him like that.” You took Sukuna’s hand and delivered it to Touma. “He’s curious. He hasn’t met anyone as big and tall as you, y’know?” 

Sukuna huffed, but let the little one grab at his fingers and hold his hand. “What, you don’t have another alpha looking after you? Hard to believe that. You're the neediest little bitch I know.” 

“Stop. I'm not Yorozu,” you huffed, and Sukuna cringed at the name. “He has alphas around, sure. But not big ones like you–security excluded. It's not like other men want to play nice with another alpha's pup.” 

Sukuna caught the hint of a frown on your face, and his hackles started to rise. 

“Some dumbfuck giving you grief?” Sukuna asked, voice rolling with thunderous promise. He'd kill whatever moron fucked with you and his pup. You just had to drop the name.

You sighed, light-hearted. “You know what the rich and famous are like--we're the worst.” 

Sukuna growled, and Touma mimicked the noise as best as he could with his pathetically teeny tiny crackled voice. Fuckin’ cute as shit. 

“Tch. Don't sell yourself short.” 

“I'm just trying to say I don't need that around my boy, and I sure as hell don't want it around me, either.” You nodded and stepped closer as Touma reached up for Sukuna again. Apparently just holding his hand wasn't doing it for the boy anymore. 

“Good. Don't need those pathetic fucks around the runt–oi, wait, what the fuck're you–” 

“Wup, wup!” Your son shrieked as you helped bully Sukuna into holding him.

“He wants uppies.” 

“Uppies,” Sukuna balked.

“He wants you to–okay, you're bad at this–don't hold him like that! Here, do it like–” you cut off as you helped Sukuna get a comfortable hold on Touma while the littlest one squirmed and squeaked in delight, trying to climb up onto Sukuna's shoulder but failing miserably. 

Sukuna twitched a smile as you sighed, exasperated by the ball of energy trying to scale the mountainous man. But he got a hold of him, tucking his arm under his butt and holding his back to make sure the little shit didn't go plummeting to the floor. 

“You give your ma hell, huh? I can get behind that,” Sukuna hummed. His son's little hands papped at his face, grabbing at his nose and jaw–specifically over the dark tattoos streaking along the curves and cut of his features. 

And you smiled the entire time. You pursed your lips tightly to hide it, but you did it so poorly. You always did. Maybe it was on purpose. 

“So, can I tell you about my car problems now?” 

Sukuna held onto his runt while you explained what flaws, either cosmetically or mechanically, were bothering you. It mostly consisted of slight dents from other assholes not knowing how to park, paint scratches, and more of that sort. As a fellow car guy, Sukuna could understand the anguish of having a favourite baby get all dinged up. 

“Not hard to fix,” Sukuna decided. He held the hood up with one hand and looked over the motor–everything looked clean and well-maintained. He was almost impressed. “But, well, it'll cost ya. Uraume can send the details.” 

You nodded. “Sure, sure, sounds good. I'm never taking this thing on the road again after it's fixed. Too many fucking idiots out there with piss poor driving skills.” 

The mechanic smirked. “Ho? So beating up your car is what makes you start cussin’, huh? Noted.” He let the hood fall closed and adjusted his hold on the now-sleeping tot. “Couldn't even get you to do that in bed.” 

“Psht, don't say that in front of the baby, Sukuna, jeeze,” you sighed and rubbed your face. “Babies remember more than you'd like to know.” 

“Huh. You think he'll remember when he got–” 

“No, he won't remember his inception.” You laughed and shook your head, but paused when you saw smears of concealer on your fingers and tutted. 

“How long's the car gonna take? Should I get a rental?” You asked before the man could comment.

“Probably, if you want me to detail this thing right,” Sukuna mumbled. He reached out and turned your chin back to him, looking at the spots concealer missing, hinting at dark circles under your eyes. 

Your face grew hot, but you nodded and cleared your throat. “Yeah, okay. I'll, uh. I'll call someone to pick us up–” 

“I'll take you home.” 

You brightened the slightest bit. “Yeah? I–okay.” You pulled his hand from your face and smiled. “I'll grab the car seat.” 

Sukuna liked your house. It was a nice mix of traditional and modern with large stretches of woodgrain and bamboo. A neat outdoor garden and pond decorated the front, but a bigger, more lush collection of tropical plants greeted guests. It was beautiful, if one was desperate to be in nature. 

“I'm just gonna get him to bed, be one second.” 

Sukuna nodded and pocketed his hands as he pretended to not watch you trot upstairs with the sleepy cub melting in your arms. You still had a nice ass even after popping that little melon out. Huh. 

He looked around your space more, wandering with slow, lumbering steps. The house wasn't huge by any means, but it was cozy and warm, quiet and hidden away from the city's gaze. That was probably why you chose it–here, you could be honest with yourself. You could shield your babe from the brutality of your career and keep him safe from leering eyes. Honestly, one of the leaves on your giant monstera could hide him from the whole universe. 

Guy's too obsessed with growing shit. It ticked him off, but he didn't know why. 

Maybe it was all the photos of you and Touma. Maybe it was because he wasn't in them and too many other men were in his place, lining your walls in the protection of cheap IKEA frames–but Sukuna didn't want you. No, no, Ryoumen Sukuna did not want anyone. He didn't want you. He didn't need to settle down and–

“You want a glass of wine?” You asked when you came back down the stairs. “It's plum wine. Don't really have any scotch or anything, but I–” 

Sukuna scoffed before a mocking laugh slipped out of him. You paused, looking at him with bleak attention as he shook his head and pocketed his hands. Your request for him to stay pissed him off; clearly, you expected something more from him.

“Whaddaya think is gonna happen here, huh? You think we're gonna fall in love, pick up where we left off, have a happy little fuckin’ family to tell the tabloids about?” 

“What?” You asked. “I never–”

“Didn't have to. Gotta admit, you did a better job than the rest of the whores that tried wrangling me in to–”

“All I asked,” you cut him off, voice quiet but firm, “Is if you wanted wine. I’m not proposing, Sukuna.” 

Sukuna didn’t like that. The whole…not-being-into-him and not wanting him to stick around after he just shut you down. He sucked his teeth and took a breath, about to say something, but you spoke first. 

“I know this is a PR thing. I know how the whole media circus works–you want your ex to stop bothering you, and I want people to stop asking questions about who the fucking father of my son is.” You paused, staring Sukuna dead in his eyes, a quiet, simmering rage boiling just beneath the surface of placid control. 

“Call my manager when the car’s done,” you decided, sounding beaten down and exhausted. “I’ll send someone for it. Thanks for the ride home.”

Next thing the man knew, he was ushered toward the door and stood in the doorway, stuck on the idea of being kicked out of his omega’s–no, no, out of an omega’s house like he was trash. 

“Fucking–wait, just–” 

“What?” You snapped.

“I could–glass of wine doesn’t sound too bad–”

You shoved the bottle into his hands and slammed the door. 

Sukuna tried to sleep it off–as in, he slept around to forget about the crushing weight of rejection collapsing down on him, shattering his chest, spearing his heart with shattered bone. 

You still kept being so fucking nice to him, too. You never slandered him, never spoke ill whenever he was asked about in interviews–you spared his reputation with a kind smile every time you had to talk about him or to him. 

And he was grateful for it, even if he didn't return the favor. It's not like he was on a smear campaign, no, but anytime a hook up would ask about you, he wouldn't give a glowing review, per se. But it wouldn't be scalding either. Just sheer indifference tainted with drops of bitterness stemming from unripe guilt.

It went on like that for months–until you did your parental duties, and set aside your feelings about Sukuna for the sake of your son.

“Uraume, get that,” Sukuna called as his phone rang. He was too busy fucking around under the hood of his latest project to wipe his hands free of grease and pick up himself, obviously.

But Uraume was there for a reason. They picked up the phone with a polite hello before their sharp frigidity melted into rounded edges. 

“(Name)-san,” they hummed. “It's good to hear from you. Do you need to talk to Sukuna-san?” 

Sukuna started wiping his hands off so unbelievably fast. 

“He's working on a car right now. You know how he can be when he's focused.”

“Fucking–piece of shit–what the fuck–” somehow, he got even more grease and oil on his hands thanks to that stupid fucking rag. God, what a nightmare.

“Sure, I can take a message.” 

“Fuckin’ shit fuck, fuck.” He wiped his hands on his designer jeans before running to Uraume and gesturing for the phone.

Uraume's brows raised, and they actually smiled. 

“Ah, hold on, Sukuna-san's here.” 

Sukuna snatched up the phone, ignoring the knowing look glimmering in Uraume’s eyes. Ugh. Ugh. Betas.

“Hey,” Sukuna said after clearing his throat. 

“Hey! Ume said you were working on a car? You didn't have to stop to talk.” 

“Yeah, well.” Sukuna shrugged to himself and kicked a scrapped car part, sending it skittering across the ground and clanking into other parts. Jesus, when did his shop get so messy? “Needed a break anyway.” 

“Ah. You work too hard, you need to take breaks more often,” you laughed sweetly. “So, listen, Touma's birthday's coming up–”

“Shit, seriously?” Sukuna grinned and kicked another chopped part. “Fuck. How old's the little shit turning?” 

“Two! He's growing up so fast, I wish I could slow down time and–” you paused and laughed, suddenly sounding unsure and a bit nervous. “Sorry, sorry, was about to go on a tangent. Anyway, there is a little get-together, but you don't have to come. Satoru and Toji'll be there. But your brother and his son'll be there, too, so it won't suck completely.

“Otherwise, if you want to come see him earlier or something, that's fine, and–and you're not cutting me off and I didn't think I'd get this far so I'm losing the plot.” 

Sukuna huffed. “What, you don't want me to fuckin’ listen, huh?” 

“I know you will since I have such a pretty voice, but I'm surprised you're being a good boy for once.” 

The mechanic rolled his eyes and rubbed his face. Who knows if it was to wipe away embarrassment or fatigue. 

“You’re exhausting.” 

“And you’re a dick.” There was a special brand of teasing bitterness behind those words, but the vibes were balanced perfectly; seemed you were still cranky about what he said, but you were willing to let it slide.

Sukuna chuckled, relaxing the slightest bit. “Alright. I don't know what the fuck kids like at that age, but I'll figure somethin’ out. I can at least show up Jin.” 

“Wow.” 

“Text me time and place. I'll be there.” After a moment, he added, “I’ll bring some plum wine. Fancy shit.”

The hidden rumble of a purr snuck its way out from your side, and Sukuna did everything he could to suppress his alpha's reciprocation.

“Sounds good. See you then, Sukuna.”

Toji answered the door. 

“Hah. Why the hell are you here?” The fuckhead ex-Zenin asked with a stupid, shitty smirk on his dumbass face. 

Sukuna strained not to throw the first punch. He really shouldn't murder someone at his--your son's birthday party. Murder is bad. Murder is bad. 

“Fuck you.” Hey, at least it wasn't murder. “‘M here for my fucking kid.” 

Toji crossed his arms and suddenly looked beyond bored as he leaned against the doorframe. 

“Your kid? You mean (Name)’s kid?” He wondered, putting on a show of thinking. “Weird.”

“You're one to talk. You forgetting what you did to your own brat? You fuckin’--”

“Sukuna!” Your sweet voice called, instantly changing the atmosphere. “Glad you came. Do you–oi, Toji, move, stop bodyguarding. You're not a bouncer.”

“Eh?” Toji stayed in his spot as you smacked at his arm and tried to push him away. “I'm just standing here. Not bodyguarding. Minding my business.” 

“You’re so full of shit.” You wheezed and squeaked as the man suddenly gave way, nearly making you crash into him and plummet to the floor. But you caught yourself and hissed at the dark-haired menace until he whistled innocently and waltzed away. 

“Fucking--why’s he here again?” Sukuna grumbled as you let him in. He leaned down to nose at your cheek with a grumpy, quiet grunt--typical greeting procedures for an interested individual or bonded pair. But the way you choked on whatever you were about to say meant he must've caught you off guard. 

“He's uh–we work together. We've worked together? He was the stunt coordinator for some movies I've been in.” You cleared your throat and took the present bag from Sukuna to place with the others. “And I babysit Gumi sometimes.” 

“Gumi? What the fuck is a Gumi?” 

“Megumi? His son?” Oh. Oh. “I babysit Yuuji too, so. Thick as thieves, y'know?” 

Sukuna nodded a little, thinking hard on the lore. He liked that Yuuji was taken care of by you, but surely that wretched Gumi could go somewhere else. Toji was probably just leeching off of you. 

“Oi, Momma, get in here,” Toji crowed from wherever all the baby giggles and excitement bubbled from in the house. “Your boys need some maternal guidance–” 

“Toji, don't make it weird!” Jin whisper-yelled before going on a long-winded rant about this and that, about proper behaviour and attitudes in front of children (not that the kids were paying attention to anything Toji did). 

You gave Sukuna a tired smile. “Come on. It won’t be that bad, I promise.”

Sukuna sighed, but let you drag him to his demise, bottle of wine in-hand.

But it wasn’t that bad. Not really. 

Your other boys, Gojo Satoru and Getou Suguru, showed up and showered tiny Touma with way too much praise and far too many gifts, but the little shit looked so pleased that Sukuna couldn’t get too annoyed. Shoko and Uraume came by, too, much to Sukuna’s surprise. Uraume brought with them a whole fucking confectionary cake they’d crafted themselves at home. Gojo obsessed over it and Getou tried to reign him in to no avail. 

And the night went on. No one talked shit, not unless it was in good fun, no one got fucking hammered, no one talked about work–it was all about the kids. Nothing else. No one else. 

Sukuna could never guess just how far that truth went.

When everyone left for the night, the alpha could start to see the edges of your smile fraying. But you held on, thanking everyone for the gifts and for showing up for Touma, and especially thanking Jin for offering to let all the little ones spend the night at his place (you and Toji would forever be in his debt). 

Then, when the door closed and all fell silent, he heard you cry. 

Sukuna didn't know what to do about people crying. He never had. Even when he was a kid, he had a hard time trying to comfort people with hugs and words of reassurance–he just couldn't do it. 

“It's okay,” he heard you whisper. “It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. It's okay. I'm okay.” 

Sukuna got up and leaned against the doorway to the kitchen. “Sure about that?”

You jumped and clasped a hand over your mouth to stifle your scream. Sukuna barked out an ugly, reedy laugh while he defended himself from your petty smacks and pinches. 

“You scared the fuck out of me–why're you still even here? Go home! Shoo!” You wiped your eyes once you were done harassing him and turned away, busying yourself with cleaning up dishes and wrapping paper left in the aftermath. 

Sukuna followed you idly, a shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. What could he say? He loved seeing you get all petty and riled up. But he didn't love seeing you cry. He didn't love seeing you try to stealthily wipe tears away, to try and steady your shaky breathing. 

“What’s going on with you, babe?” Sukuna asked as he settled beside you at the sink. 

“It's nothing,” you said with a snuffle. “It's seriously nothing. Sorry, I--you don't need to stay. Or anything.” You sighed and rubbed at your eyes with your sleeve. “You've done your fatherly duties. You're free to leave.” 

“Yeah? ‘N what about my baby daddy duties?” He wondered, voice so horribly low and comforting, like the buzzing crackle of a campfire. 

You laughed, watery and shaky. “You already did everything you needed to, Sukuna.” 

“Come on, don't cockblock me like that.” He gently tilted your Chin his way to catch your eyes just like he had back at the shop all those months ago. “Look at me.” 

You did. Your eyes were red and irritated, whatever pretty boy make up you wore was wiped off and smudged, and those heavy, dark bags met the light in front of someone else for the first time in a long time. 

You still had the gall to laugh it off and pull Sukuna's hand from your face with a small, “I'm fine,” though. 

“Then why the hell are you crying?” He asked. 

You squeezed his hand with both of yours. “Things are just…hard. Overwhelming.”

Sukuna nodded a bit. “That why Jin took the runts tonight?” 

“Yeah. Needed some time, I guess.” You snuffled and wiped your face with both hands before finishing up with cleaning. “Makes me sound like a shit parent, I know.” 

Sukuna couldn’t disagree more. “Least you're not flipping out on the kid. That'd be way shittier, yeah?” 

“I don't know. I guess, but–yeah. I don't know.” 

Sukuna sighed and scooped you up like a new bride. “You're driving me fucking mental.”

“Sukuna–!”

“Quiet.” Your omega indeed piped down at the grouchy command, and you shyly let the man carry you up the steps to find your bedroom. “You're getting some damn rest. You look like shit.” 

You grumbled something Sukuna elected to ignore in favour of tossing you onto a bed the way one might lob a stone into a pond. You landed with a warbled squawk and looked at Sukuna with horribly accusatory, baffled eyes. 

Sukuna quirked a brow as he looked down on you, gladly using his broad build and tall stature to secure your submission. And it worked; the aggravated spark in your eyes curled up and fell silent after a few long seconds. Your head lowered just the slightest bit, too, but your passive gaze remained stuck on him, waiting for his next move. 

“Fine,” you grumbled. 

Sukuna raised his brows and eased onto the bed, caging you underneath him with his solid frame. Your scent flickered with shy playfulness, and Sukuna relished in it. 

“How do I know you're gonna obey, omega?” 

“I guess you don't. Not for certain,” you admitted begrudgingly. 

“Tch. Someone's gotta keep you accountable then, huh?” He nosed at your neck, nearly letting his lips touch your neck but refusing to do so in the same instance. “Make sure you're doing the right thing, make sure you're behaving.” 

One of his hands squeezed at your soft thigh before inching up little by little. Your hands found themselves in his hair as he teased at your joggers’ waistband, pulling the elastic taut before letting it go. 

“Sukuna,” you laughed, sounding a little breathless. “I, uh–I thought you said–”

“Changed my mind.”

“But–”

“Forget what I said and let me make you cum on my fingers, brat.” 

Oh. Well, hard to argue against that. 

You swallowed but gave a meek nod. He ripped your bottoms off and felt up your blazing skin with rough, calloused hands, groping and grabbing in the same spots he liked back when you were hooking up: your thighs, your hip bones, the squish of your stomach. As much as the man harped on about not wanting “damaged goods,” he sure worshiped your body like it was brand new, untouched. 

Sukuna brought his fingers to your mouth, and you took them with utmost compliance. Your tongue worked against his digits thoughtfully and thoroughly for your own sake–a lack of starter lube wouldn't end well, after all. And Sukuna was not the most patient man in the sack.

“See?” Sukuna crowed into your ear as his hand traveled south and a finger sunk into you. “It's not so bad to just behave, now is it?” 

You already felt like you were about to explode, and Sukuna savoured It. He liked being the one to do this to you–the only one for a while, considering how tight and sensitive you were. Any little push or prod inside you brought sweet sighs and soft moans to the surface–and a second and third finger had your hips bucking and your nails digging into his shoulder and back as he finger-fucked you to oblivion while still caging you in. 

“Good omega,” he cooed. “Gonna cum already, huh? Tch, you shoulda said no one’s been taking care of you; I would’ve taken my parental responsibilities more seriously.” His lips and teeth landed on your neck, as you curled up into him, body tensing, heels digging into the mattress, panting and gasping getting louder and faster. The sound made his pants strain even more. 

“Fuck, you smell fucking good. Better than when I fucked you the first time.” 

“I-I forgot you talked so much in bed,” you managed out. “Could you just–shut up?”

Sukuna growled, and you whined. “You want me to shut up, huh? You wanna listen to your slick fucking hole getting spread open, plowed into? You miss me that much, omega?”

“No.” You hissed and clung to his upper arm as he somehow managed to take it up a notch, slipping his fourth finger in and spreading you obscenely wide. 

“I think you did. Think you were hopin’ I’d come around, plow you into the bed again, stuff you full like no one else can.” 

“Sukuna–”

“I’ll fill this hole up all you want, baby–I’ll even stuff another pup in you. Twins. You want that, huh? You gonna be my omega from now on? Creaming on my cock ‘n fingers the way you shoulda been the day you walked your perfect, little ass into my life?” 

“Shut up, shut up, shut up–” you choked on a gasp and bit into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with drool and shuddered mewls while your body tightened and ecstasy hit like the weight of Sukuna’s words–brutal, fast, honest. 

Sukuna moaned in sympathy, ignoring the way his hand and arm cramped and ached to keep pistoning into you and draw out your high. He couldn't help it–something about you drove him mad in that moment. It could have been how you made his ego swell, it might've been the way his greed needed your slick staining his and only his skin, perhaps it could have been a quiet yearning coming from his lonely, hollow alpha. He didn't know. But he didn't question it. 

Your body started to relax with the death grip you had on his shoulder as you came down from the sudden, electric high. Your hips still jolted with every slow, lazy push into your soft hole, though a haze of purring and cooing filled the spot where gasps and moans once did. Eventually, you melted off of him and collapsed onto your back, looking as content as a cat lounging in the sun. 

“Oi, oi, you're not done yet, sweetheart.” But if you said you were done, he might've listened. Just that once. 

You hummed something as you looked up at him, eyes doey and so egregiously lovey-dovey. 

“That's a nice face. Make sure you save it just for me,” Sukuna gently commanded, and you laughed. 

“Demanding. I thought you didn't like used goods.” 

Sukuna scowled. “Shut up.” His free hand traced the stripes of stretched skin left in the wake of bearing his baby boy. “I like ‘em when they're used by me.”

“Does that really make them ‘used goods,’ then?” You murmured as if speaking logic too loud would break Sukuna's entranced obsession of you. 

But maybe, maybe, you had a point. 

“Guess I'll have to think on that.” His fingers slipped out of you and he gave you a wet slap on the ass to wake you up. Your subsequent squeak sure as hell woke Sukuna up. 

“Ow. Gross.” 

“I'm not finished with you, brat. Don't get too fuckin’ content, yeah?” He smirked when you glanced at his crotch expectantly. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Please.”

Sukuna sighed and settled between your legs as he futzed with his belt and button. “Could put up a bit of a fight.” 

“Too tired.” You yawned and stretched with a pleased sigh. “No will to argue.” 

The alpha leaned down to bite at your knee, and you pulled your legs together to avoid his chunky, rude fangs. You knew he'd delight in making you bleed or leaving dark bruises. He was the worst. 

“Still got a little fight left in ya,” Sukuna said with a grin. “Let's see how much more we can find, hm?”

[random-thot-generator]

Reverse trope prompt: Fake amnesia

Full prompt list here by @out-of-jams

Soap x reader

Maybe? NSFW - Soap gets a wee bit handsy with reader, nothing sexually explicit, profanity, soap is a sneaky lil shit

dividers by: @saradika-graphics

"Where's me bonnie lass?"

"She's comin', lad," Price murmurs, giving Soap's shoulder a gentle pat. He squats down beside his wheelchair to peer into his sergeant's eyes. "Ya feelin' alright? Head hurtin' ya?"

Soap squints at his captain, suspicious. "Oi! Yer no' another one o' them doctors, are ye? Feckin' numpties willnae leave me alone."

Price sighs, shakes his head and stands. "No, lad. I'm— just visitin'."

Soap's face splits into a grin. "Oh. Well, tha's a'right, then. Dinnae mind visitors. Do ye ken tha' big bloke tha' wears a skelly mask? 'E comes t'visit meh, too." Soap leans in, voice dipping low. " Bit of an odd duck, tha' one. Tol' meh 'e was a ghost." His eyebrows arch high on his forehead. "An' the docs say I'm th'one wit' brain damage."

Price huffs a short laugh despite himself. "That's his callsign, lad. Do ya remember yours?"

"Callsign?" Soap repeats, looking confused.

"Never mind. 'S not important right now."

Soap nods, his eyes trailing back to the door. "'Ave ye seen the gas man about? Mehbeh he kens where me lass is."

"Gas man?" Price mutters, frowning, then understanding dawns. "Ah. Ya mean Gaz. He's uh— at work. Won't be around for a few days, I'm afraid."

"Oh. Tha's too bad. 'E's good at findin' m'lass fer meh." He raises a hand to scratch at the scar tissue on the side of his head. "Doan s'pose ye'd be willin' t'ave a look 'round fer 'er, would ye? Ah miss 'er." His blue eyes shine bright and luminous with hope.

Price nods, chuckling. "A'course, lad. I'll see if I can find her f'ya."

Price turns on the telly for him before he leaves, flipping it to a cartoon channel. Soap's loud guffaw follows him out into the hallway. Passing the nurses' station, he gives a nod to a couple of the nurses as he heads towards the cafeteria, where he last saw you. He breathes a sigh of relief when he spots you sitting with Ghost, a cup of tea in your hands.

You watch the captain's approach, taking in his expression, then grimace. His look is apologetic when he murmurs, "He's askin' f'ya, again, lass."

"Bloody hell," you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you pinch the bridge of your nose.

Ghost grunts, eyes narrowing. "Funny, tha'. Johnny can't remember any'a us, but he's got no problem remembering 'er?" He tilts his head. "Bit strange, innit?"

Price shrugs. "Hard t'say, with an injury like that. Docs say he might regain some of his memory, he might not. No way t'tell."

You sigh, turning your weary gaze on Ghost. "His memory of me isn't perfect, either, ya know? You remember how he used to give me hell all the time. Now he thinks I'm his bloody girlfriend, for Chrissakes! He told Gaz we were engaged yesterday. It's bloody mental."

Ghost hums but says no more.

Blowing out a tired breath, you push yourself up from your chair. "Guess I better get back up there before he comes looking for me again. Thought that head nurse was going to string those other poor nurses up by their heels when Johnny gave 'em the slip."

Price laughs lowly. "And in a wheelchair, no less. Made it all the way to the exit before they caught up with him."

Ghost grunts as he stands, shuffling away from the table to join you. "I'll go wiff ya. Johnny might behave himself better if I'm there."

You snort at that. "Yeah, right. Might as well restrain him, because he won't keep his hands to himself, I can promise ya that."

As soon as you enter Soap's room, he beams a huge smile, his arms up, grabby hands reaching for you. "There ye are! C'mere, bonnie. Gie us a hug."

You point at him, a stern expression on your face. "Promise you'll behave, first. No feeling me up this time."

He gazes up at you, looking like a whipped pup. "Ayre ye mad at me, bon? Did I do somethin' bad? Ah'm sorry."

His pitiful pout melts your resolve instantly. "I'm not mad at you, Johnny. Don't get upset. Everything's alright," you soothe, voice soft as you step close to smooth your hand over his shaggy mohawk.

Ghost doesn't miss the mischievous little flash in Soap's eyes before he grins and grabs you by the hips, pulling you into his lap. You yelp, trying to be careful of his head as you try to push his face from between your breasts. The man doesn't let up, wallowing you like a fussy toddler, his big hands holding you in place. You give another yelp when he gets hold of your ass cheek and squeezes.

"Oi, ya cheeky git," Ghost barks. "Yer bein' too rough!"

Soap cuts a sly glance his way before settling his chin on your chest, smiling sweetly up at you. "Ah dinnae hurt ye, did I, bon?"

You sigh, flustered, trying to be patient. "No, Johnny. You just— startled me." You puff out a breath, prying his hand off your ass.

Soap gives Ghost a smug little smirk, hugging you so tight, you squeak. "See, LT? Ah wasnae bein' too rough. Ah jus' startled 'er."

You lay a hand on his cheek to get his attention back, melting a little more at the open adoration in his gaze. "You should still be more careful, Johnny," you chide him gently. "You get excited and grab my bum too hard sometimes. You leave bruises."

He perks up at that. "Aye? Bruises, ye say? Can ye show me? Ah promise t'kiss 'em all better."

You can't help but laugh. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

Soap nuzzles your chest and grins. "Aye, but ye love meh anyway, doan ye, bon?"

You only manage to escape when one of the nurses finally comes in to give Soap his medication and check his vitals. You scurry out the door, looking a right mess, disheveled and breathing heavy, mumbling something about getting some water.

Ghost stands by quietly as the nurse takes Johnny's vitals, eyeing him intently the whole time. Once she exits the room, Soap turns a guileless expression to his lieutenant. "Somethin' the matter, Mr. Ghost?"

Ghost huffs a laugh, shaking his head. "Give it up, Johnny. Ya fucked up, mate. She didn't catch it, but I did." He comes closer, leaning down to whisper at Soap's ear, "Or did ya jus' suddenly remember I'm yer LT?"

He chuckles lowly when Soap sucks in a sharp breath. He straightens back to his full height, looming over the now worried looking Scot.

"I'll keep m'mouth shut, so long as ya come clean wiff the captain. Poor sod's been worryin' 'imself sick over ya."

"A'right," Soap grumbles, bottom lip poking out.

You return moments later, a bottle of water in one hand, a pudding cup and spoon in the other.

"Look what I nicked for ya, Johnny. Butterscotch pudding. Your favorite."

He gives you a hangdog look. "Can we lay in bed while ye feed it t'meh? Ah'm feelin' a wee bit tired."

"Sure, love. Ghost, will ya help me get him in the bed?"

Ghost helps put him to bed without comment, but pins the sergeant with a knowing look while you're climbing into bed with him.

Soap slants a mischievous look up at his lieutenant, teeth flashing in a quick grin, and winks.

[virescent-v]

Wine Breath

Summary: Gif-inspired "drabble" for @scorpsik A/N: Apparently, my "drabbles" are under 1k words and not closer to 500....... Warnings: None. :) Word count: 991

Emily woke up with a start, the sunlight filtering through the curtains blinding her. With old mascara-caked, dried contact eyes, she squints against the brightness. Her mouth is dry, her tongue fuzzy. A stale taste of alcohol and something else on her breath. 

Emily glanced around, immediately on alert. 

She didn’t recognize the room she was in. 

…and she was in her bra and underwear. 

Jumping out of the - rather comfortable - bed, Emily frantically looked around for anything resembling her own belongings. 

Finding black jeans and white button down that she remembered putting on yesterday, Emily hurriedly dressed before taking in her surroundings. The bed she was sleeping in was large, king sized, with a light colored duvet. The room itself was clean, but there weren’t any real personal effects. There were various artworks and sculptures around the room. 

Creeping around the perimeter of the room, her FBI training kicking in, she peers around the corner of one of the two doors in the room. 

A bathroom. Two toothbrushes on the counter, one still in the packaging and unused. 

Continuing around the room, she made her way to the other closed door, expecting that to be her exit. Opening the door slowly, quietly, she listens to see if she can hear any movement outside of the room. 

There seems to be no movement that she can hear, so she ventures out. She’s in an apartment that she now realizes she vaguely recognizes. 

Emily’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.” 

** 

Rushing into work, a little off-guard and definitely late, Emily runs straight into Penelope. 

“Uh, Emily. Stalking case. I texted you twenty-eight minutes ago.” 

Checking her phone, Emily grimaced. “Oh, you did. I’m sorry. Uh, just a little distracted,” Emily said, stuttering a little. 

“Because of the, uh, person in your office?” Penelope asked, pointing towards Emily’s office, a lone figure shadowed by the blinds. 

“There’s someone in my office?” Emily asked, turning towards where Penelope pointed. Shaking her head, she refocused on her friend in front of her. Emily sighed, “Wait, Penelope, listen.” 

Penelope startles at the tone of Emily’s voice, straightening up. “Yes, my fine furry friend?” 

Emily skirts her eyes around the office quickly, making sure there wasn’t anyone listening nearby. “I, uh, didn’t wake up in my bed last night.” 

Penelope’s eyes widened. Whispering, she said, “What do you mean not your bed?” 

Emily was immediately distracted by a shuffle of noise in her office, her eyebrows furrowing. Her head swiveled back and forth between Penelope and the window to her office. “I, uh. Hm. I woke up in her bed.” Emily started to frown, the noise in her office getting louder. She started to turn, as if to walk away. 

“Wait, Emily.” Penelope reached down into her bag, moving things around until she pulled out a small container. Turning back to Emily, with her hand outstretched. “Open. Ah,” as she places a mint on Emily’s tongue. “You’re gonna need that. You have wine breath.” Closing the container and shoving it back in her bag, Penelope yell-whispers, “We’ll talk about last night later, hot stuff.” 

Emily closes her mouth, happy to not have a dry, stale mouth anymore. She sighs and heads towards her office. 

** 

Emily crossed the threshold into her office, freezing. 

Shuffling paperwork on her desk, was you. 

“Hm, hi. I, uh,” Emily stammered, her eyes skittering around you, trying to get a read on you.. “I didn’t see you this morning.” 

You continued to shuffle paperwork around, smirking up at Emily. “Well, sleepyhead, you were out like a light and I wanted to get in early to get things sorted for the case,” you said, waving your hand around the papers. 

You walked around the desk, watching how antsy Emily seemed to be. Stepping close to her, within arms length, you say concerningly, “Em, are you okay?” 

Emily licked her lips, eyes trailing over your face. She nodded her head, which seemed to also nod her body along with the movement. “Yep, yep. Totally good. So fine. Good, really good.”  

You tilted your head. “Yeah, try that again but more convincingly,” you laughed. “Is it about last night?” 

Emily glanced back over her shoulder, through her open office door, before stepping a little closer to you. “Did we, uh…do anything?” 

You started laughing. Out-right, loud belly laughs. “Oh, you don’t remember, do you?” 

The question made Emily’s nerves grow. She started to shift on her feet, her lower lip caught between her teeth as a deep blush flamed on her cheeks. “I wish I remembered our first time…?” She trails off. 

Your laughing stops abruptly. “You think…we…together?” You insinuated, gesturing obscenely. 

Emily rubbed the back of her neck, looking away awkwardly. “Well, I woke up in a bed mostly naked. I figured something of the sort happened.”

You would’ve started laughing again if Emly didn’t look so…disappointed? 

You stepped forward  just a little, already in Emily’s personal space. You reached up slowly, tucking some of her hair back out of her face. “Em. You came over, got incredibly wine drunk. I put you to bed in my guest room. You stripped down to your bra and underwear before passing out.” You chuckled. “You didn’t even brush your teeth or take off of your makeup.” Playing with her hair a little, you blushed. “Trust me, if we’d done any of…that…I would be pissed that you’d forgotten.” 

Emily’s body relaxed. She cleared her throat as her hands found your hips, pulling you ever closer. “Well, then. Want to redo last night with a different ending?” She smirked, winking exaggeratedly at you. 

Another full body laugh burst out of you, as you wrapped your arms around Emily’s neck. “This time, maybe don’t finish a bottle of wine by yourself.” 

Emily shook her head. “Only water for me.” Her hands trailed lightly over your lower back, her fingers just creeping to the edge of your slacks. “I want to remember everything.” 

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

post-s2. good omens mascot here, coping unhealthily.

This is the first proper post I'm writing since the audio breakdown, good thing I queued a POTC one last week, I suppose. Yes I slept through the entire day today, missed the theatre workshop I was supposed to attend and may or may not be listening to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square on loop. Have an update on my coping because my social life and family are both Tumblr now:

Every song is about them now. A lot were before, but now every single one. Even an old Hindi song from a 1900s Indian military movie that I have not watched, by the way. But the lyrics (thank you Google translate) are: Everybody wants a handful of the sky, everybody searches for a handful of the sky, there is a world waiting to be hugged to the chest, the moon is a fair full of stars, but this heart is still lonely. And of course that makes me think of Crowley as the starmaker. Ow.

I made the very intelligent decision to rewatch the first three episodes of season 2, knowing what the Job minisode and the Edinburgh minisode do to me. I'll be here clutching Crowley, well, hugging him close to the chest, just like that song... ah, fuck, here we go again.

I listened to you all and am drinking a lot of water, since my tear ducts were emptied yesterday and now I'm unable to cry. I also ate too much chocolate.

I searched for sad Aziracrow edits and watched them. Don't look at me. I'm in a hell of my own creation.

I used too many emotions last night and now I feel hollow and achy. Maybe I should cope with humour and write the summaries.

Or maybe that will backfire and I will be filled with horrifying levels of emotion.

I slept. A lot. Many hours. Lots sleep.

So. Well. You know. Adopted child of divorce. You were all right, this is exactly like dealing with a breakup or divorce, but much more painful.

Someone please, please, please stop me from clicking the Crowley whump tag to find fanfiction.

I remember my initial Good Omens posts. I remember calling the fandom sad, desperate, queer and masochistic, and also pointing out how you all blame Neil and then sit and make headcanons that are a hundred times worse than canon.

I was so right. Look at me now, sad, desperate, queer and masochistic, making headcanons that are a hundred times worse than canon.

Wahoo.

[mysumeow]

──CYCLE

ᓚᘏᗢ WARNINGS: Gender-neutral reader. Implied established relationship. 100% sfw.

ᓚᘏᗢ SUMMARY: Jamil gets sick and reader takes care of him.

ᓚᘏᗢ WORD COUNT: 1k.

ᓚᘏᗢ A/N: im so happy i got jamil's applepom ssr :'DDD i knew i wanted that ssr the moment it was released in the japanese server TT_TT

⸝⸝⸝

The first few seconds after Jamil woke up, he registered a faint warmth that blossomed from his chest and broadened to the rest of his body.

It was a matter of time for said warmth to become unpleasant, however. Little by little, he noticed the dullness and soreness of his limbs, along with the annoying pain that sliced through his throat.

A fever.

Jamil recalled the last situations he was involved in that could’ve led to this result.

Ah, yes. It was yesterday. The day began with clear skies. Next thing he knew, gray clouds that harbored thunders and lighting covered the sky. He realized Kalim was outside and could get soaked by the rain if he didn’t hurry, which would end up in the housewarden getting sick, and, as a dutiful attendant, he couldn’t allow that.

By the time he found an umbrella, it was already raining. Left with no choice, Jamil went headfirst into the downpour.

A shiver struck through Jamil, cutting his recall short. As he rolled to the other side, he embraced himself under the blankets.

It was only after this change of position that he spotted you. He saw you sitting on a chair next to his bed, your head down and on the verge of losing your balance if you didn’t wake up soon.

“Hey,” he grimaced when the sting in his throat became stronger. “You’re about to fall from the chair. Wake up.”

You blinked the drowsiness away and stretched.

“Hi, Jamil. Did you sleep well?”

Even though Jamil nodded, his expression devoid of any joy didn’t convince you. You’d checked his temperature earlier, and it was a whopping 39 °C, so it was safe to assume he felt awful.

You got up and removed the wet cloth that was on his forehead.

He wasn’t one to fall sick often, but when he did, it hit him hard. In other instances, he would take ibuprofen and deal with it in silence. He couldn’t ignore his responsibilities due to a cough and sore throat.

“I’m going to dampen it again, okay? I’ll be back,” you said, heading in the bathroom's direction.

His eyes followed your retreating figure, his head in atypical quietude.

Being taken care of…Jamil acknowledged to himself that it felt refreshing. Don’t ask him about it, though. He would deny it. Nevertheless, there was a tiny uneasiness that stemmed from not being used to being this level of vulnerability.

You emerged back from the bathroom. With the damp cloth on your hand, you were about to place it on his forehead, but Jamil stopped you. His recalling about yesterday’s events made him remember he needed to keep an eye on Kalim!

“I’ve got to prepare Kalim’s breakfast,” he jumped out of bed and walked a couple of steps before dizziness made him falter. If not for your effort to get him back to bed, he would’ve tripped.

“Breakfast? It’s past midday.”

Jamil’s eyes opened like saucers. “What! You could’ve woken me up earlier!”

You shook your head disapprovingly as he tried, for a second time, to get up. You pushed him back to bed again.

“Do you think you’re in conditions to carry on with your usual schedule? When you can’t even stand up without losing footing?”

He was a stubborn one when it came to being responsible, and even if he wanted to insist, the fever obfuscated his train of thought.

Jamil watched you brush away the disheveled hair strands that were on his forehead, combing your fingers through the long locks of hair with gentleness. His heartbeat picked up, but he convinced himself it was because of the fever and definitely not because of a different kind of warmth that ignited within. Unlike the hot temperature caused by the illness, this one was pleasant.

The tender sensation had an abrupt interruption from a second shiver that ran up his spine; goosebumps rose.

“I hate this. I feel like I’m freezing.” Jamil lamented, irritated at his state.

Jamil closed his eyes for a moment, with the intention of coming up with a plan to get back on track as soon as possible.

An unexpected shift on the bed prompted him to look at the source of it: you were cuddling him.

“You’re going to get sick.” Jamil groaned. You snuggled up to him while he was deep in thought. Your arms were around his torso, with your cheek squished on his chest.

“It’s okay. I’ll help you stay warm.” 

In other circumstances, he would’ve put up a little bit more resistance since he didn’t want to infect you. Anyways, he knew you wouldn’t listen, and he didn’t have the energy to argue.

Resigned, Jamil sighed and placed an arm around you. You got comfortable and placed a leg on his, his body was like a heater. He was in silent contemplation, and his lethargic breathing lulled you to sleep.

Within a pair of days, Jamil’s health recovered with swiftness.

You, on the other hand...

“I told you were going to catch it.”

The way he scolded you sort of reminded you of your mom—a thought you found quite funny and still laughed, albeit the discomfort.

“Don’t be so mean, Jamil,” Kalim sided with you. “The prefect spent the past days taking care of you.”

“Tell him, Kalim. Speak the truth.”

“Do you want me to buy you something? Do you want ice cream?”

“That could increase the inflammation. Don’t,” Jamil stopped the housewarden before he could worsen your condition. “I’ve brought enough medicine.”

“Way to be a killjoy,” you crossed your arms, pretending to be angry.

“I’ll invite you to ice cream after you’re healthy again.”

“Alright, I guess…”

After a few more exchange of words, Kalim’s club activities urged him to leave sooner than Jamil.

“Take these,” He handed you a glass of water and ibuprofen. “I also made soup. That should help you soothe the ache, too.”

“Will you feed me it?” you asked with a grin, remembering how bashful he became when you did that favor for him. “And will you cuddle me too?”

“I’ll feed you the soup. Although, I won’t cuddle you,” in spite of his serious tone, you heeded the timid hint suppresed in it. “It would become a cycle of both of us getting sick.”

“Fine, fair point. That’d be silly.”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Everything Has Changed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Princess!Reader

Word Count: ~2.8k

Warnings: kidnapping, angst

Summary: Your life hangs in the balance when it takes a dangerous turn. People are after the Princess of Yacleira, and they’ll do whatever possible to make sure they get what they want. Ben is called down to America to help out in any way that he can. After all, you’re still his Princess and he still has a duty to uphold.

Play Pretend Masterlist

Square Filled: kidnapped au (2021) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Spencer walks into work the next day with his head hung low and a frown on his face. He didn’t even stop to get coffee which is shocking since he always has a craving for the sugary substance. Penelope and Derek walk out of the break room together and see how sad Spencer looks.

“Hey, you didn’t come back yesterday. How did it go?” she asks.

“She denied it all. I don’t know if I can be with someone who isn’t truthful.”

Penelope must have told Derek what happened because of what Derek says next.

“All you do is talk about this girl, man. I know how much you like her.”

Spencer can only shrug.

“Maybe there is a reason why she’s being so cagey. Maybe she’s scared of something.”

Spencer feels bad for not giving you time to explain yourself. It just came as a shock when he found out the girl he really likes isn’t the girl he likes at all. You’re someone different from a world he knows nothing about. He isn’t stupid. He saw the look of panic on your face when he showed you the articles. You’re scared but he mistook it as being guilty. Maybe you were but he shouldn’t have reacted that way.

“I’ll go back to her place later and talk to her. Right now, we have a case.”

Spencer forces you to the back of his mind so he can focus on his job. You don’t know what happened after you fell asleep in Don’s car but you have a feeling of dread that something isn’t right. You open your eyes and roll your head to the right since you’re still kind of out of it. The first thing you notice is a woman sitting behind a computer typing furiously. She hasn’t noticed you yet so you scan the rest of the room in curiosity.

There is a younger man with a boy-band haircut standing over a collection of knives. He grabs one of them and twirls the blade in his hands as if he’s trying to get used to the weight of it. Sitting on the couch to the left are two men relaxing--one of them has his arms draped over the back of the couch and the other has his right leg crossed over his left. You blink furiously to get your vision to focus because you recognize one of the men sitting on the couch.

“Jacob?”

All three men and the woman look in your direction when they hear your name.

“Ah, look who’s awake,” Jacob grins.

“What is going on?”

Panic sets in and you look down to see yourself tied to a chair in the middle of the room. You yank on your restraints but whoever tied you down did a good job in making sure you won’t go anywhere.

“Struggling is only going to make it worse.”

“What is going on?” you ask again, this time more sternly. It doesn’t take a genius to realize you’ve been kidnapped. Where is Don? The last thing you remember is being in a car with Don. Yes, you were escaping. Oh, Spencer, I messed up. “Please, whatever you think I have, I don’t so you may as well just let me go.”

The front door into the house opens and you see someone you trusted walk in. Don heaves a black duffel bag onto the coffee table and points to the man who has his leg crossed over the other. He doesn’t say a word as he grabs the bag and opens it. Don hasn’t taken his eyes off you the whole time, not even as he approaches you. He grabs the armrests of your chair and leans down closer to you, and you crane your neck back to put some distance between you two.

“Don?”

“You’re going to make us a pretty penny.” He sees the look in your eyes. “God, you’re so trusting sometimes. You didn’t even bother checking to make sure I was Don.”

“What?” you whisper.

“My name is James and your mother and father would pay a great amount of money to get their daughter back, the Princess of Yacleira.”

You look around the room and see pictures of you as a barista and as a princess all over their wall. How could you not see James for who he really was? Mr. Boy-Band looks at you from the kitchen with a slight grin as he continues to twirl the knife in his hands.

“Are you going to hurt me?” you ask, looking at him with unshed tears in your eyes.

“Not if you behave. I’m not one for torture but Ryder is,” you look at Mr. Boy-Band who slams the sharp end of the knife into a cutting board, “and he won’t be gentle about it. Jacob and Kellen,” you look at the two men on the couch, “thrive on psychological torture. Macy,” you look at the woman behind the computer, “will go after the ones you love. You have no power here.”

“You won’t get away with this,” you glare.

“Oh, princess, we’ve been getting away with it before you stepped foot in this country.” He takes out a small digital camera from his pocket and aims it at you. “Say cheese, princess.”

He takes your picture knowing how scared and vulnerable you look. Please don’t hurt Spencer. Anyone but him. When Spencer got his lunch break, he headed over to your house to try and salvage whatever was left of your relationship. He tried calling you before he left but it wasn’t a surprise that you didn’t answer. He knocks on your door and waits but after five minutes of waiting, he frowns.

“Who are you?”

Spencer turns to see an older muscular man standing on the sidewalk in front of your house.

“Spencer Reid. Who are you?” Spencer asks.

“My name is Benjamin and I’m trying to find Don Stockwell.”

“Yeah, he lives here with a young girl. I’m trying to get ahold of her but she isn’t answering. No one is answering the door which is a little concerning.”

“What do you mean?”

“I found out something about her and I didn't take it well. That was yesterday, and I was coming over here to apologize but she isn’t answering.”

Benjamin steps up to the door and takes out a key that he uses to get inside. Benjamin goes into protective mode and searches the place from top to bottom while Spencer stays by the front door, unsure of what to do. He doesn’t want to snoop but he also doesn’t want to leave. Ben seems like he knows Don well enough to do this, and Spencer has too many questions to want to leave right now.

“Where did they go?” Ben asks.

“I don’t know.” Ben approaches the basement door that is locked with a padlock. He takes out small bolt cutters and removes the padlock by force. “Do you always keep bolt cutters on you?”

“Stay up here.”

Benjamin walks down the stairs into the basement, glad that Spencer can at least follow directions. The basement is like any other with boxes and other junk piled up in different corners. However, there is a large ice chest by the far wall that’s plugged in. He walks over to it and opens the top, his heart dropping at the sight of his good friend stuffed inside with a bullet hole in his head. Don is dead and from the looks of it, he’s been dead for a while, possibly before you came to America. He closes the ice chest and walks back upstairs where Spencer is still waiting.

“What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something is wrong?”

“I’m an FBI profiler. Don’t lie to me.”

“I can’t talk about it,” Ben sighs.

Ben moves around Spencer to leave the apartment but Spencer’s words stop him.

“Does this have something to do with Yacleira?”

“What did you say?”

“I know Y/N is a princess. Of Yacleira, right?”

“How do you know that?”

“Like I said, I’m in the FBI.”

Ben decides to take this leap of faith and trust Spencer because help from him is better than no help at all. He and Spencer walk to the kitchen table and sit down so they can talk.

“My name is Benjamin and I am the sole bodyguard of Princess Y/N.”

“Bodyguard? You let her leave Yacleira alone?”

“Listen, kid, she was miserable over there. She is at that age where she needs to marry, and her parents arranged for her to marry Prince Henry of Vosharia. You should have seen the tears in her eyes every time she had to do something wedding-related. I saved her from something far worse, trust me.”

Spencer didn’t know this ran so deep.

“What happened next?”

“I had this friend, Don Stockwell. We used to be in the Navy together. I got in contact with him and he offered to look after her, to give her a normal life. I needed to be as far away from this as possible but I thought she’d be safe here.”

“You said had. Don’s alive, isn’t he?”

“No. His body is downstairs in the basement stuffed into an ice chest. Whoever she’s been staying with isn’t Don.”

“I shouldn’t have left yesterday,” Spencer sighs in guilt.

“How do you know her?”

“We met in the coffee shop. She worked there. She’s amazing and I fell for her immediately.”

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know,” Spencer mumbles. “I shouldn’t have left yesterday.”

“It wasn’t your fault. It’s mine. I’m the one who let her go without checking to make sure Don was okay.”

“Does her parents know?”

“That I was involved? No. They sent me here because of a photo of you two leaving a restaurant.”

“Yeah,” Spencer sighs. “I didn’t know why she was panicking all night. I thought she was nervous.”

“I need to know who she is staying with. Can you help me with that?”

“Yeah.” Spencer checks the time on his watch. “I gotta head back anyway.”

“What are you going to do about the dead body in the basement?”

“I’ll call it in.”

Spencer does on his way back to the BAU with Benjamin following closely behind. JJ hasn’t presented a new case so Spencer hopes they can focus on this one until you’re back in your own bed safe and sound. Her own bed back in Yacleira where she belongs. Spencer casts his eyes down as he tries not to think of what you two will mean after they find you. He gathers everyone in the briefing room and explains what is going on.

“So, she’s really royalty?” Penelope asks.

“Yes, and she is the only heir to the throne, so I’d like to find her sooner rather than later.”

“Prentiss, take JJ with you to the Coffee Shop and ask around about her. Someone might have seen something,” Hotch says, and both women leave. “Garcia, I need everything you can on Don Stockwell.”

“Don is dead inside the house. He most likely died before she even stepped foot into this country.”

“I know, but something in his history might tell us something about the man she’s been staying with.”

“You’ve met him, right?” Ben asks Spencer who nods. “Is there anything you can tell me about him?”

“He has a huge scar running across his face. His hair covered some of it but I noticed it.”

“Fuck,” Benjamin curses. “Pardon my French.”

“Do you know this man?” Rossi asks.

“Yeah, I’m the one who gave him the damn scar. His name is James Volkov and he’s been after the princess for quite some time now, even in Yacleira. He attempted to overthrow the throne a couple of years ago, but the farthest he got was the front door. She never even saw him or knew he was after her. Her mother and father forbid me to mention it to her.”

“Let’s see what kind of dirty stuff James has in his closet,” Penelope says, typing on her laptop. “Not much is known about him except he was born in raised in Russia. Went to prison in Russia. Fled Russia. He’s been hiding in the States on and off for the past ten years.”

“Yeah, he owes a lot of people money and he thinks by overthrowing the Richmonds, he’ll get the money to finally be free. He knows damn well if he steps foot in Russia, he’d get arrested no matter how much money he has.”

“Can you track him?” Hotch asks Penelope.

“That’s easier said than done. He’s only ever used burner phones, he used a car he paid for with cash, rented monthly with Don’s name, and avoided all cameras that I can see. I only have him in view of a camera when he went to see Y/N at the Coffee Shop, and their house isn’t in the way of any cameras.”

“What about her phone? She must have had it with her when she went missing, right?”

“If he was desperate enough, he might still have it with him,” Rossi says.

Penelope types into her laptop and pulls up the signal from your phone.

“It’s pinging off three cell towers. It’s going to take a hot minute to track it.”

Ben takes out his phone and calls Kylen to report his findings. He doesn’t have to wait long knowing Kylen is eager for some news.

“We got something here. James Volkov--”

“That bastard?”

“What is it, Kylen?” Benjamin hears Calliope on the other side, her voice faint.

“He fled to America and posed as someone Y/N trusted. He’s been taking care of her but kidnapped her. We’re trying to locate both of them right now.”

Kylen covers the phone with his hand and relays the news to the King and Queen. Even with the speaker covered, Benjamin can hear Calliope cry for her daughter. Benjamin waits five seconds, then ten, then twenty. Something is happening over there or else Kylen would have torn Benjamin a new one for sending her here. It won’t take a genius to figure out his involvement.

“What is it?” Ben asks.

“We got something. An email.”

“An email?” Hotch and Rossi look at Ben who then places Kylen on speakerphone. “What did the email say?”

“A ransom note for Y/N’s safety, demanding one hundred million American dollars.”

“How do we know they actually have her?”

“It’s better for you if you see for yourself.” Kylen sends over the email that Benjamin looks over. His blood runs cold when he sees a picture of you tied and gagged with tears running down your cheeks. “If they don’t comply in twenty-four hours, they’ll remove a limb for each hour past it.”

“Kylen--”

“The King and Queen are heading down there right now to deal with this directly. You better have a good story as to why Don Stockwell was supposed to be the person she was to meet, and why you two were Navy buddies.”

Kylen hangs up without waiting to hear what Benjamin says. He taps the end of his phone on the table in thought and Penelope’s laptop pings.

“I got her phone’s last known location.” Penelope puts the map on the big screen so everyone can see it. “It’s at a gas station on the edge of town.”

“I’m not surprised he ditched it,” Ben grumbles.

JJ and Emily come back from the Coffee Shop with a notepad in Em’s hands.

“So, there is nothing on James or Don, but we did get someone that visited her a few times during her employment. They didn’t get the name of the man, but the manager, Cindy, was able to provide a description. We looked back on the cameras and we told her to send it to you,” JJ says to Pen.

Penelope pulls up the cameras and clicks into the video file that was sent over to her. As clear as day, the man who visited you is on camera. Benjamin shakes his head, having not recognized the man.

“I don’t know who that is. I’ve never seen him before.”

“Should I release this to the press?” JJ asks.

“Wouldn’t that pressure them to hurt Y/N?” Benjamin asks.

He might not have been with you for a few months, but he is still your bodyguard. He still cares for you.

“He might be right,” Rossi says.

“No, not yet. Not until we have more information,” Hotch says to her.

Ben resumes tapping his phone on the table. He should have never let you leave Yacleira. At the very least, he should have checked to make sure Don was doing okay. He wanted to give you as normal life as possible which meant cutting you off from Yacleira and its people as much as he could. On the other hand, Spencer feels guilty for leaving you yesterday. He should have given you a chance to explain.

Maybe then your life wouldn’t be hanging in the balance.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[nalyra-dreaming]

Some comments on episode 3 / episode 10 - SPOILERS * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Daniel not wanting to eat the living fish…. yeah I can empathize

Raglan James - Is that a real name???? (LOL)

Love the banter

Daniel doubting how many Rashid’s there are… indeed

I like that they’re echoing Louis being away in last season this one as well

The underlying threat of Armand being able to kill them all if he so chose

That audio visualization will become important still I bet

How do you hide from the cloud indeed

Louis being asleep during the day?! Why this time? He was awake during the day before?

“Lestat’s prophetic vision”

Yes, be snarky Daniel :)

Flashback!!!!

Ugh incineration by fire gift

Oh Armand watching Lestat as harlequin - he has it baaaaad

Armand hinting that Lestat has powers he has not touched, and them talking to each other in their minds….

Viens a moi! Come to me!!! There it is! Armand said it to Lestat, yes baby!

And Armand admitting to stalking and then kidnapping.

And I love that they’re doing it all in French - I cannot quite judge but hope it’s well done

mhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh YES I CANNOT LIE I APPRECIATE IT AND I LOVE IT

the time freezing was so well done

Gosh Nicki. Gosh that feeding

to summarize: Liar, liar, pants on fire (LOL), but I love it. Ah yes, great fanfic, I like

Great now I will imagine Lestat and Armand beeeeeeeep in that box for ETERNITY lol

And Daniel… not buying it lol

“He abandoned xyz”… ohhhh there we have it. There we have it (not). The crux of the whole matter.

Louis knows what’s up. Deep down he knows. But them matching the stories is almost cute.

Claudia humbling herself like this to be part of it all breaks my heart

The sneezing made me cry with laughter

Ahhhh the wet room. And the rats. And the tombs. The tombs. Ohhhhh they’re so gonna lock Louis up there later. Oh boy.

“That’s a bit german” re the incinerator !!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Holy shit?!)

God Lestat interrupting that moment. And Armand sensing “Bruce”. Daaaamn.

Daniel getting distracted but the Talamasca. Who have access to his computer. (!!!)

“Where is Claudia at this point” 😔 (and no answer)

Santiago’s maker being down in the tombs is IMMENSELY interesting. WHO THE FUCK IS HE

Also him telling Claudia that her lies are almost convincing….

The “come to me” scene. Even better in total. Oh Louis. Armand calling him out on it.

And the philosophical discussion there. The admission despite the warning. Something Louis ALMOST remembers…

“that’s debatable” - “she did”. Oh MAN LOUIS

“I told you I loved you” - “And you said nothing.” Holy hell.

THAT KISS. the music.

It’s RAW.

God they’re on another level

AND THE PHOTO: Lestat being there… and then vanishing!!!!

Louis knows. He knows. Also that little story Claudia makes up there… oof.

The Bacon triptych - that is so weird. WHO wants to buy it. I BET that’s important.

And Daniel using the time to go through the material and find the proof of the theater burning.

The coven pressuring Armand. I LOVED that. The trepidation. Ugh.

And them throwing Louis out when she is initiated. Does he know of the five laws??????

And Claudia’s expression at the laws. Oh maaaannnnnn.

And I KNEW it!! Armand is playing with the fire there “threatening” Louis. I mean, he ultimately doesn’t, but he ALMOST does. The discussion in the sewers. The foreshadowing once more. Louis calling on what Armand promised, and Armand throwing the lies into his face. DAMN.

And Armand stating that Claudia won’t be there for long.

God I knew the coven would go and humiliate Claudia with that role. I knew it. Damn. Her face.

“The Savage Garden”. The roaring of the fire behind Louis. More foreshadowing.

“Did he break you? Or did you break him?” 😭😭

A century ago. Yesterday. So much pain.

That kiss. And Louis inviting Armand in on the premise that he won’t kill him!!!!!!!!!! Holy shit.

NO PAIN.

AAAAALLLLLLL THE PAIN.

Argh, loved it, maybe a favorite so far. There is so much going on. So much foreshadowing. So much knowledge suppressed, or endured. So much bitter realization. So many things hinted at and introduced.

Also, as clear as it is (and was said in the episode insider) that this is Armand’s little fanfic version… (as Assad how much of it is used to "paint Armand in a good light"?!) :))) . It was a LOT of fun. :)

And that banquet scene will be in the next episode already!! Whoop whoop, cannot wait!

[juno-of-wonderland]

Monster Au: Lord of Thorns route

You stopped cleaning, looking at the horizon, your eyes passing over the rooftops and going straight to the sunset, the colors matching the current autumn, you didn't understand why people didn't stop to admire the beauty that nature had. You stayed still until the moon shone in the sky, going back to work, cleaning the mansion's gargoyles, do you remember that you once heard that these beauties protect and prevent the excessive runoff of water from damaging the stones and here it is so lonely that they end up being their only companions. “Good evening Laylah, Nisha, Ayla, Estela and Luara” “So they have a name” The sudden voice made you let out a scream, jumping back and losing your balance, tripping over your own feet, gravity doing its work and pulling you down, beyond the roof, you dropped your work tool and closed your eyes, bracing for impact, but only the broom hit the ground. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You opened your eyes, he held your hand, you knew it was a man from the voice, but you couldn't see clearly because of the hood, but the green glow in his eyes was so intense that it cut through the darkness, keeping you mesmerized and breathless . “(Y/n) are you okay?” A voice shouted from below, one of the mansion's maids. "Hmm? A-Ah, yes I am! I ended up tripping, I’ll go down to get the broom” you stuttered as her screamed, you attention focused downwards When you turned your eyes to the front, he wasn't there, you didn't even notice when he let go of your hand, but the feeling of the glove touching your skin was still there like a ghost. “Be more careful!” The maid screamed You continued looking at the empty space, wondering who he was, you raise your hand and look at it. “Cold…it was cold” you whispered

…

The trees on the property make you work harder than usual, sure, it's leaf fall season, but why does the butler make you remove even the leaves from the roof? You would never know. You climbed the stairs without rushing, using the metal bars that surrounded the roof, you leveraged yourself, placing your flashlight in the chimney to light your way, already starting to sweep the orange colored leaves, the rhythm and the sound lulling you into work . Without realizing it, that same figure from last night was watching you, waiting for you to get off the edge so that it wouldn't happen again. “How do you know they’re all girls?” He asked You let out a shameful scream, which got a laugh from the guy, embarrassing you even more, your shoulders shrugging as your forehead touched the broom handle. “Um, they faces give me the sensation" you replied without looking at him “huh” he let out a murmur of recognition and remained silent You guys stood in the same place, he looked at the property and you found the courage to speak, taking a deep breath, you asked the most important question. “Who…who are you?” your voice came out almost like a whisper, but his ears seemed to be sharp, because he looked back at you and you looked at him. "You do not know?" He said they seem surprised You remained silent, why would you have to know, unless…he was the owner of the mansion!? No, it wouldn't make sense, you've never seen the owner of the mansion, but you don't think he would be hooded in his own house. “You seem to have reached a conclusion” he said No, you were more confused than ever, but he didn't seem like a bad guy, he even saved you from falling two floors yesterday. “My name is (y/n) and yours?” He blinked, intrigued and surprised, a smile forming on his face. “You gave me your name so quickly… you really don’t know who I am” he laughed low and short, but so attractive “you can call me whatever you want, but a word of advice, a name has great power” You looked slightly irritated and confused at him. "What? You are the devil and you are going to steal my soul? Since it's like that, I'll call you Tetsunotaro.” And oh how that amused him even more.

…

Nights passed, sometimes whole nights, you didn't understand why he only showed up at night, which he responded with that he was kind of invading someone's territory just to see you, which you swallowed and honestly, he clearly isn't not even trying to be charming, your new friend is naturally charming. "What are you thinking?" Tetsunotaro asked. “How long will they believe I’m coming here to see the stars?” “But it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Tetsunotaro said with a smile “Hehe, I am” you replied with your own smile You looked at the stars, Tetsunotaro was some kind of scholar or a nobleman, he knew so many things that even surprised you, especially the gargoyles, you didn't even know half of the things he told you. “The master is coming back this week” you said suddenly "And even? What kind of man is your master?” Tetsunotaro said, getting closer to you, touching his shoulder, wanting your warmth. "I don't know" "You do not know?" Tetsunotaro cocked his head to the side, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Yeah, well, I've heard a lot of gossip about him, but I don't know if they're true and I've never seen him in person… do you want to hear the things I heard?” Tetsunotaro nodded enthusiastically "I heard he looks like a prince, he is the best at swordsmanship, a little lonely and loves trees, he also has an obsession with dreams, as if he wants to enter it, looking like a physical place" Tetsunotaro narrowed his eyebrows , but not for the reason that you thought “I know, haha, it's a little crazy, ha! The butler said he is an ancestor of a dragon slayer.” Tetsunotaro tensed, his smile didn't waver, nor did you seem to notice his body change as you said a few more things about your employer, he himself got lost in his own thoughts. “Tetsunotaro, can I ask you something?” “Of course, son of man” and there’s your weird but intriguing nickname that Tetsunotaro gave, did you think it was fair "You work?" Tetsunotaro let out a laugh before replying, “No, my parents left me enough money that I wouldn’t worry enough about it.” You squirmed in place, your knee coming closer to your chest, the tone he used left you with a strange feeling, he spoke about them as if they had… “They are” he laid his head on your shoulder “…I’m sorry” you squeezed his hand in comfort “Okay, it’s been…years since this happened.” “…if you need anything, just talk” you said Tetsunotaro looked into your eyes, surprise and relief reflecting and you finally noticed his hair, as black and shiny as the night, but one part of it looked strange. “Thank you” he lifted your hand and entwined his fingers with your, holding it tenderly, placing a kiss on the back of your hand “I was… very lucky to meet you” …That was so natural…damn, you know your face is red and he's smiling, you're sure you saw plenty of protruding fangs. “Hey” you try to distract yourself, pulling your hand “do you think they still exist?” "Who?" “The Dragons” Tetsunotaro smiled, the kind of smile that knows what he's talking about “yes, I believe so”

…

You were making your way upstairs, when someone touched your shoulder, startling you, the boy laughs lightly. “(Y/n) you really like the stars, don’t you?” An employee named Rain said "Oh yes! I love watching them” “But it would be good if you stayed below today, apparently the master doesn’t come alone” And with those words, several employees hurriedly passed through the same corridor as the two figures, they looked at each other before following. Everyone lined up in two lines next to the door, shoulder to shoulder, with their heads lowered and waiting, the butler walked in the middle, his feet quickly passing over the red carpet and opening the two huge dark wooden doors. “Master, gentlemens, it is a pleasure to have you here” the butler spoke with respect and reverence You risked a look, seeing a well-dressed man who clearly had everything easy in life with three others behind him, these caught your attention the most, dressed in black and with heavy bags and an emblem, the emblem of Noble Bell, monster hunters, your stomach dropped. You had a theory about Tetsunotaro. A theory that there was no way someone like him could be human, his skin was very white and cold, his eyes were so bright and you are sure you saw fangs in his mouth and he was always hooded… these men here and now only increased your suspicions . You looked away, staring at the ground like your savior, the five men passed by and everyone went back to their tasks, you took a deep breath, if you were going to do something it would be quick. You tried to act as normal as possible, walking to the wing that led to the stairs that led to a closed opening in the ceiling, you went up the stairs, opened the little door and there he was, waiting for you, smiling as soon as he saw you. “You need to go” you said His smile disappeared, replacing it with a frown. “Is it because of the hunters?” Tetsunotaro asked “Yes” you said and nodded “Are you afraid of me now?” “…I don’t really know what you are, but Tetsunotaro, what you are doesn’t matter, but who you are and you are my friend, my dear friend” You spoke with all your heart The man seemed ecstatic but hesitant, he looked at the moon and then at you, you hadn't fully left the opening yet, he walked towards you and held out his hand, helping you to stand, he held your chin so you could look directly into his eyes and for the first time he took off his hood. You held your breath, for the first time seeing his full face, seeing his horns and realizing who you were talking to all these nights. "You are-" “Lords of Thorns!” An arrow flew towards the two of you, Tetsunotaro took it out of the way with a single hand, growling at the newcomer, he held you by the waist, close to his body. “Release this human!” The hunter proclaimed Which had the opposite effect, because Tetsunotaro only held you closer to him. “Of course a proud creature like you wouldn’t cooperate.” A second voice, this time from behind Tetsunotaro and your only question: HOW THE HELL DID HE GET UP!? THE MANSION HAS TWO FLOORS! The man glanced sideways and his annoyance increased, as did his amusement.

“Flame” he said, like some kind of old friend You stretched your head, managing to see the hunter with black clothes, gray hair and a tired, serious face and with that black cloak, you also noticed the sword in his hands. The man looked sick, swinging his shining sword to the side. “Your dirty soul is trying to corrupt this sheep, this is not something I can allow, Draconia” the man, Flame, said with determination “I can't” Draconia said, as if he were talking about the weather This attitude only made the hunters angrier, another arrow was shot and Flame threw himself forward, the arrow went straight through while the sword didn't hit any matter. Tetsunotaro began to float above the men, holding you like his precious treasure in his arms. He throws himself to the ground, running at surprising speed into the forest, the two hunters unable to catch up to the vampire lord. After some time,you struggled in his arms, leaving him confused, he slowed down until he stopped, placing you on the ground, he could hear your heart pumping blood at full speed. “I’m sorry” the man said sullenly like a kicked dog. You moved your hand, waving that it was nothing, waiting for the adrenaline to subside and your heart to calm down. “Will you come with me…do you (y/n)?” Draconia extended her hand for you to hold

What will you do?

⬜hold the hand ⬜ do not hold

[aishangotome]

Alfons Sylvatica: Chapter 20

Chapter 19 Premium Story

♡———♡

The next morning, I woke up and immediately felt something was off.

(Huh...?)

I was the only one in bed.

It should be natural since it's my room, but it felt terribly strange.

(...I felt like I slept with someone yesterday...)

(...Who was it?)

I try to remember, but I can't remember anything like a fog has settled.

Even when I look around my body and the bed, it's neatly arranged and there's no trace of anyone being there.

But...

(This scent...what is it?)

Suddenly, when I moved, a sweet scent brushed past my nose.

(I wonder what it is...when I smell this scent...)

(I feel so sad...)

(Even though I don't know it, it feels like a very important scent to me...)

Like a flower wet with night dew, quiet and clear...

...It was a scent that I wanted to be wrapped in forever.

-

Kate: Good morning.

Roger: Ah, morning.

Roger was the only one sitting in the dining room.

Kate: Where is everyone else?

Roger: Jude and Ellis are at work as usual. Liam and Harrison are at the cake shop.

Roger: Victor and Will are at the palace, and El is...probably collapsed somewhere.

Roger tells me everyone's schedule and bites into his bread.

Kate: Thank you for yesterday.

Roger: No problem, my research on the curse progressed as well, so it's a give and take, right?

Roger: Are you feeling okay? You looked quite pale yesterday.

Eat, Roger says, pushing a silver stand with toast towards me.

Kate: Yes, I'm completely fine now...

(Huh...why was I so depressed?)

I realized that last night's events were vague and hazy.

(During the day, Roger and I went to see the family of someone who we thought might have had a "mirror curse"...)

(And then...)

Kate: Why was I looking so pale...?

Roger: Oh? That's because the results of the investigation weren't good, of course.

Roger: It seems that just having a keepsake isn't enough to escape the fate of the "mirror curse."

Kate: ...But why was I so desperate to find a way to escape the fate of the "mirror"...

My chest suddenly felt a sharp pang.

(This feeling...what is it...?)

I'm driven by an intense impatience, as if I'm being burned from the inside.

(I have to remember.)

(I need to remember.)

(It must have been something I absolutely can't forget.)

---...You're a real fool, aren't you?

I hear someone's voice dwelling in my head.

--It's okay, I understand. I've lost.

Whose voice is this?

--Let's end this.

Who are you?

Alfons: --"I loved you," in my own way.

Kate: ...!

Kate: Alfons...

Roger: Alfons? Who is that...?

After a moment of blank silence, his eyes widen.

Roger: --Damn, we got played...!

Kate: Did he use his ability on us while we were sleeping...?

Roger: Probably. He must have chanted something like, "When you wake up, you'll forget everything about me."

Roger: I was taking a nap in the lab. That guy...he used his ability on me while I was sleeping.

Kate: He probably did it to me while I was sleeping too...but why would he do this...?

(--No way.)

"Let's end this."

(No, that's impossible.)

I immediately deny the possibility that came to mind.

Because it's too absurd to do "that" for someone you don't even love.

(But--)

Elbert: ...Kate, Roger.

Kate: Elbert...!

The moment I saw Elbert enter the dining room, I rushed towards him.

Kate: Do you remember Alfons...!?

Elbert: ...Yes.

Elbert: Al's ability...has always been a little weak on me.

Elbert: I remembered as soon as I saw the note he left.

(Note…)

The note that was handed to her simply said, “Have a lovely rest of your life.”

Kate: …This is…

“Have a good life,” it’s like a farewell message for the rest of your life.

Roger: It’s more like a will than a note.

Kate: …

The thought she had just dismissed came back to her.

Elbert: …I once asked Al what he would do if you didn’t give up on him.

(Give up…)

**flashback to last night**

Alfons: To see if you’ve truly given up on me.

**end of flashback**

Elbert: Al only answered, “I’ll think about it then.”

Elbert: But I thought there was only one option the Al I know would take…

Kate: What is that…?

(Please)

(Tell me an answer that is different from what I’m imagining)

She stared at Elbert, as if praying.

Elbert: Before you pour any more of your heart, body, and time into Al and fall even more in love with him…

Elbert: He would disappear.

The moment she heard those words, her mind, which had been boiling with confusion and agitation, cooled down.

(That’s right, the Alfons I’ve seen is the kind of person who would do “that kind of thing.”)

**flashback**

Kate: Are you…the kind of person who would throw away your life for a favorite toy?

Alfons: Yes.

Alfons: After all, my life is lighter than a tin soldier’s.

**end of flashback**

Kate: …I have to find him.

Kate: I didn’t fall in love with him so he could do something like that…

Elbert: …I had a feeling you’d say that.

Elbert: I usually don’t chase after Al either, but this time is an exception.

Elbert: –I won’t allow him to just disappear like that.

(Elbert, are you angry…?)

It was unexpected.

But she understood his feelings well.

He underestimates the feelings directed towards him.

Roger: But it won’t be easy to find someone who can fool Victor’s eyes.

William: –Liam just reported on Alfons’ whereabouts.

Kate: William!?

(He went to the palace? And why…?)

Kate: Wasn’t Liam supposed to go to the cake shop…?

William: The Privy Council tipped off the Purification Club, and they had their eye on Alfons.

William: So Liam and Harrison have been tailing Alfons since the other day.

Kate: Is that so…?

William: It was more about following the trail of people trying to contact Alfons.

William: The goal was to locate the residence of a Purification Club leader…

William: However, this morning, Alfons didn’t shake off their tail, but rather, he was obediently taken away.

(No way…)

William: I’m going to go and punish the Purification Club members at the place he’s headed to, but…

Kate: You guys are–

William narrowed his eyes.

William: It doesn’t seem like I need to ask what you’re going to do.

-

(Alfons' POV)

The Purification Club members I easily caught by simply wandering around the alleys took me to a room in an old mansion decorated with faded paintings.

The place was covered in dust and had poor taste for an interrogation room.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: You came along quite easily.

Alfons: If someone calls out to me, I’m the type to follow anyone anywhere.

Alfons: Wasn’t that written in the materials shared by the Privy Council bigwigs?

A dilapidated mansion, rarely visited by anyone.

In the center of a room, surrounded by several armed men, a figure sits in a chair.

––The ideal situation.

Alfons: I suppose Lord Gore isn't here in person?

Alfons: Of course not. In evil organizations, it's usually the underlings who do the dirty work.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: We are not an evil organization. You are the one who belongs to an evil organization, are you not?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Showing off your suspicious powers everywhere has come back to bite you.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: When I told a certain person about the hotel break-in and your physical characteristics, your name came up immediately.

Alfons: Oh my! Who could it be? If they're a fan of mine, I'll entertain them for a night.

Mocking him, the man's temples throbbed with visible veins, just as Alfons had hoped.

(Ah, good. He seems pretty easy to manipulate.)

With a few more taunts, he'd likely lose his patience.

Alfons: ...Are you familiar with the story of Snow White?

Alfons: Who is the most foolish in that story? The most cruel?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: I didn't bring you here to listen to childish riddles.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Tell me about the organization you belong to and its members. If you do, I'll spare your life.

Alfons: Heh... Is this your first time?

Alfons: You should have learned from a professional interrogator before proceeding.

Alfons: Interrogation won't be successful unless you properly research your subject and figure out what threats will make them talk.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: ...Good advice for a fool who wanders into enemy territory.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Let me answer your ridiculous riddle.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: The most foolish one here is you, and the most cruel one is me.

Alfons: Bzzt. Sorry, incorrect.

Alfons: The answer to both questions is the mirror.

Alfons: Speaking unnecessary truths and causing tragedy... Don't you think it's irresponsible towards the story's ending?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: W-What are you trying to say!? Do you not value your life!?

Alfons: Can't you even enjoy a little wordplay? Read between the lines.

Alfons: I hate tragedies.

Alfons: So even if you kill me right now, I won't complain.

Alfons: Go ahead, feel free. Whenever, wherever.

The man with the round glasses, seemingly unable to comprehend the words, snorted.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: You are a valuable source of information. I won't kill you until you tell me about your "Crown" friends.

Alfons: ... For the sake of your poor comprehension of the unspoken, shall I speak plainly?

He stands up from his chair and approaches the lawmaker.

The guards, who had been lulled into a false sense of security by his lack of resistance, all raised their guns at once.

(Yes, good boys.)

Alfons: I refuse to tell the truth. No matter what you do to me, you won't get any accurate information from me.

-

(Kate's POV)

Guided by William, we left the castle and met up with Harrison and Liam a short distance from the mansion where Alfons was taken.

This was because Roger noticed guards lurking around the mansion.

Roger: They're probably trying to get information on anyone who comes to rescue Alfons, in other words, members of the Crown.

(If we rush in carelessly, we'll put the Crown itself in danger.)

(...But—)

I couldn't help but want to rush in right away, thinking about when memories of him might be lost forever.

Elbert: Roger... can you make sure you don't miss any of the lurking guards?

Roger: Considering their positions and numbers, we'll need four people.

Elbert: ...Then, can I leave it to you?

Elbert: Kate and I will go inside.

Kate: Elbert...!

It wasn't just me who was surprised; everyone else was looking at Elbert with a slightly surprised expression.

Harrison: Wow. That's rare for El to be so proactive.

Liam: All right. I'll make sure to take care of any witnesses who see you two.

William: —Do as you please.

William: We'll head over as soon as we're done taking care of the lurkers.

-

(Alfons' POV)

Alfons: I refuse to tell the truth. No matter what you do to me, you won't get any accurate information from me.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: You––

Alfons: Come on, come on, aren't you going to shoot? Don't any of you have the guts?

As I take one step at a time towards the muzzle of the gun and smoothly draw the saber from my waist, I hear the sound of gun hammers being cocked from all directions.

To kill a valuable prisoner, the lower ranks need an excuse.

(Such as provoked and enraged, unable to control my emotions)

(Attacked and felt my life was in danger, so my survival instincts kicked in)

If the latter is added to the former, the trigger becomes even lighter.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Don't shoot yet!

Alfons: Oh! So you can kill people from the slums like trash, but you're hesitant to shoot a "noble"?

Alfons: I'm so sorry, how rude of me.

Alfons: I may be dressed like a noble, but... I was born in the slums, which you all despise.

(One more push)

All I have to do is make the stupid underlings who didn't take my saber away because I wasn't resisting think "this guy is dangerous."

Alfons: So, how about it? Can you do it?

Alfons: If you still don't have the courage, I'll cut off one of your arms.

I put my killing intent into it and pointed the tip of my sword at him.

Kate: ...Alfons!!

Alfons: ...?

––I heard a voice I shouldn't have heard.

-

A voice I shouldn't be able to hear reaches my ears, and for a moment, the mocking smile I'd been wearing fades away.

If this were a play, this is where I'd be expecting boos from the audience.

Turning around, I see her rushing towards me.

(––Why?)

I knew Liam and Harrison were tailing me.

My plan was to lead them here, provoke the Purification Club enough to get myself killed before they arrived.

Then, Crown would interrogate the guy with his professional techniques, expose the Purification Club's leader, and we'd have a happy ending.

My corpse would be disposed of with the other guards, barely remembered. It would have been perfect.

––Or so I thought.

Alfons: Ugh.. Seriously.

Alfons: Reality really sucks.

Alfons: You're all dragging your feet and now we're in trouble.

Man: Is that woman one of his companions---!?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: I don't know, it's not in the report. She's probably one of the women this guy picked up.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: ––Whatever, kill her.

The gun was pointed at her.

(Oh, really)

This is ridiculous.

-

(Kate's POV)

Kate: ...Alfons...?

Everything felt like it was in slow motion.

The gun that was aimed at Alfons turned towards me.

The next thing I knew, Alfons' back was shielding me.

Slowly, his body tilted—and finally, the flow of time returned when his body collapsed onto the floor.

Kate: Alfons...!!

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: What are you doing! Damn it! If he's dead, how am I supposed to report this to Councilman Gore...?

Guard who fired: I-I apologize!

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Forget it! You useless fools! Don't move a muscle until I give the order!

While hearing the commotion as if it were far away, I rushed to Alfons.

I put his head on my lap and managed to lift his upper body.

Kate: Alfons! Alfons!? Can you hear me!?

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: You woman, you're in the way, move!

He called out in a loud voice, and I looked up with a start.

(This person—)

The lawmaker with the round glasses who was talking to Councilman Gore at the Purification Club hotel was glaring at us.

A cold muzzle, like a black hole, was pointed directly at us.

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Get away from that man. If we torture him even as he dies, he might spill something—

Lawmaker with Round Glasses: Ugh, uugh!? What...!? M-My head—

(Lord Elbert...!)

Before I knew it, Lord Elbert was standing behind him.

Elbert: ...You, on the other hand...

Elbert: Could you please... not interfere with them?

Whether it was because of Lord Elbert's ability or not, the lawmaker with the round glasses clutched his head, collapsed to the ground, and started sobbing.

(I don't know what happened... but we're saved.)

The bewildered guards were frozen in place at the abnormal sight.

Alfons: Pfft, ugh, ahahaha!

Kate: ...!?

Suddenly, I heard laughter from my arms, and consciousness returned to Alfons.

Kate: Alfons!? Thank goodness, you're conscious... but why are you laughing!?

Alfons: Ahah, no, I'm sorry, it's just... I found it funny, ahaha!

Every time he spoke, his black clothes were gradually getting soaked with blood.

Kate: Blood...! You're bleeding! Stop laughing!

Kate: We need to stop the bleeding quickly...!

The blood was flowing from around his shoulder.

I pressed a handkerchief tightly against the endlessly gushing wound.

In an instant, the white handkerchief turned red.

Alfons: Ha... ugh, hehe, ha, I'm sorry, I know I'm bleeding profusely...

Alfons: But I can't help but laugh... ahaha!

(So much blood is flowing...)

Kate: What's so funny!? It's not funny at all...!

Tears welled up in my eyes.

A black-gloved fingertip gently wiped away the tears that were about to spill.

Alfons: ...Hehehe. You're so desperate, it's silly.

Alfons: To think you'd remember me so quickly and chase me all the way here.

The warmth I feel through his gloves tightens my chest and brings tears to my eyes again.

Alfons: You really are a person who can't get what she wants, aren't you?

Alfons: It's so amusing how nothing goes your way that I can't help but laugh.

Kate: Sh-shut up...

Elbert: Kate, let's use this to tie it tightly over the handkerchief.

Lord Elbert rushes over, holding a long, white cloth.

It looks like he tore it from the edge of his long coat.

Looking around, I see that all the guards are also crouched down like the bespectacled councilman.

Kate: Th-thank you.

Alfons: Humph... Elbert, were you always this... competent?

Elbert: In times like these, you make do with what you have... That's what you taught me a long time ago.

Alfons: ...Such a goody-two-shoes.

After firmly bandaging the wound with the cloth, Lord Elbert left the room to call Roger.

Alfons: ...I wonder why you woke up so soon.

Alfons says, looking puzzled.

Kate: H-how would I know... something like that.

Alfons: If only you had remained deceived a little longer.

Alfons: You wouldn't have had to witness the death of the person you love.

Alfons: By the time the illusion faded... you could have forgotten me completely.

Kate: P-please don't say... death...

Kate: No... Please don't die.

Kate: My love, my feelings, they're still...

Kate: Please don't let them become an illusion...

I could only hold Alfons tightly.

So that the creeping shadow of death wouldn't snatch him away.

So that his existence, my memories, wouldn't disappear like a mirage.

Alfons: Haa...

Alfons stirs in my arms.

I panic when I realize he's trying to sit up.

Kate: You can't get up! The blood...

Alfons: This is truly, completely, from the bottom of my heart, not what I wanted.

A warmth brushes against my lips.

(A kiss...)

It was the briefest of touches... The most fleeting, yet the most deeply etched kiss I've ever experienced.

Alfons: ...It seems I love you quite a bit, after all.

Kate: Wh-what?

Alfons: To the extent that I want to utter these words on my deathbed and leave an unforgettable mark on your life.

Alfons: Life is quite... unpredictable, isn't it?

After smiling, his head wobbles.

(No...)

(No, please.)

Kate: ...More.

Kate: I'll make you leave more behind...! I won't let you die here...

His eyes, which seemed ready to close at any moment, slowly looked up at me.

Alfons: ...Then... shall we make a bet?

Kate: ...A bet...?

Alfons: If I die, I win. Goodbye, have a good life.

Alfons: But if I survive... you win.

Alfons: As you wish, we'll love each other properly—

Alfons: And I'll tear your life to shreds.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Blind Love Chapter 21

Mad Love Chapter 21

If you’d like to support my translations, feel free to buy me a coffee here! :)

[phyrestartr]

PR Stunt (Only, Right?) | Sukuna/M!Reader | Teaser!

#NSFW in full, bottom!reader, top!sukuna, Sukuna owns a body shop, reader is a performer, kinda meet cute, ABO dynamics, mpreg, yes there are always babies involved because i love dad sukuna, surprise baby, sukuna is a dickhead (what else is new), teaser not edited lmao

Note: This is just going to be a one-shot since it's already pretty much completed, just need to finish off the tail end and then go back and edit. Wanted a break from writing the other stories for a bit, so I hope you'll enjoy the full story when it's out

tags: @better-imagination-9 @better-imagination-9

“Did you sleep with (L. Name) (F. Name)?” 

The question caught Sukuna off guard; normally, Uraume didn't inquire into his personal life in regards to who he had and hadn't slept with. They were a friend, yes, but moreover they were the bookkeeper and helped with securing clients and arranging meetings–celebrities and their managers were fucks that Sukuna didn't like negotiating with. Best to leave the yapping to someone with a cooler head.

“Where the hell did that come from?” Sukuna asked as he rolled out from under the newest commissioned vehicle. 

Uraume walked to him, iPad in hand, and turned it to him, stone cold. 

Sukuna sat up straighter and squinted at the screen, annoyed. You’d probably just made up some salacious rumour and spread it throughout your friend circles; or worse, you wanted revenge on him for something he probably definitely did. In that case, Sukuna could somewhat understand. But still–

(Name) putting on weight? What’s happening to the former bombshell babe of Japan?!

Pregnant with a baby boy?! The secret's out!

(Name) returns to the stage after giving birth to a baby boy–but who is the father?

(Name) driving a Ryoumen Sukuna rescue vehicle?! Could he be the deadbeat dad we've been looking for?

Sukuna sucked his teeth after skimming over the article titles presented to him. 

“...No proof.” 

“Ah. Then please explain this,” Uraume requested, still polite as ever, as they flicked to an additional few images the scumbag paparazzi had caught of you. 

One was the car mentioned. Sukuna remembered it like it was yesterday–the joy of restoring a Porsche 911 back into its former glory was unmatched. You happily paid for all the parts and too often swung by to see the progress being made on the old thing. Obviously, Sukuna was more than happy to oblige. 

The next was of you holding a little nugget of a baby against your chest as you walked down a street in Shibuya. Nothing too damning, nothing too inspirational. 

But the last one–

“The fuck?” Sukuna mumbled as he snatched the iPad from Uraume’s hands and zoomed in on the now-toddler sitting with you in that damn Porsche, grinning brightly beside his mum while you ruffled his hair. His very, very pink hair. 

Sukuna took a breath while he thought. He didn't have to think too hard, though, not when he still dreamed about you and the short-lived fling between the two of you. 

“A Porsche 911, huh?” Sukuna grinned as he looked over the beat up, rusted beater of a car. He could still see scraps of its former glory, of the beautiful thing she used to be. Heaven knows she would've become an irreparable hunk of junk if you hadn't bought it from a scrapyard. 

“Yep.” You beamed. “So you think you can make her pretty again?” 

“You kidding? I'd pay you to let me fix this thing, baby.” Sukuna caught sight of your security stepping forward, but you waved them off without a second thought. 

Sukuna smirked. “But it’s not gonna be cheap.” 

You nodded. “Well, do what you have to. I'll pay whatever you need, handsome.” 

“Yeah?” Sukuna asked, looking your neatly-manicured appearance up and down; you were dressed like you were meeting someone of great importance (and  you were, obviously), with your hair groomed perfectly, outfit fit for a premiere, skin flawless. 

“Mhm. And I tip well.” you looked him up and down in kind, grinning as you bit at the nub of your sunglasses.

“Done.” 

Every time you came to check on his progress, genuine excitement flooding in your motormouthed Words, you'd go home with him and fuck him silly. 

And now, you were the momma to his baby. Allegedly. 

“I–so what the fuck does this have to do with anything?” Sukuna ran a frustrated hand through his hair after Uraume took the tablet back. “Bitch isn't asking for anything, he's not asking me to be his public fucking baby daddy, not asking me to pay for nothing?” 

“No,” Uraume conceded, “But he and his PR managers have reached out concerning this.” 

The man groaned and stood. “Fucking hell. Can't stand fucking PR teams. Thw fuck did they want?” 

“They want to make a statement about Touma's father.” 

Sukuna froze.

“Touma's a good name for a boy, right?” 

You asked the question so suddenly, so out of nowhere in the quiet of the afterglow. The city lights sparkled and winked at you both through the towering windows keeping you safe from the outside world. In hindsight, Sukuna would wonder if the city was excited for him. For you. 

“What, for a mutt?” Sukuna drawled, puffing on a blunt while he played with your hair and drowned in the tingles left in the wake of fingers drawing circles on his bare chest. 

“For a kid,” you chastised With a laugh. “I like Touma. Or Touka for a girl. Ayato's nice, too. Maybe Kazue.” 

“You better not be pregnant.”

“I'm not, I'm not. I'm just getting baby fever, I guess.” You hummed and left a sweet kiss against his tan skin. “I guess being around a big, bad boy like you's got me feeling domestic.” 

Sukuna laughed, dazed and happy. “You wanna ruin this pretty lil’ body for a fucking kid? Be my guest. Just don't come looking for a booty call after you've ruined yourself like that.” 

“Oh, don't worry,” you cooed. “I won't.” 

Man. Man. 

“A statement.” 

“In other words–”

“I'm not the fucking father.” 

“This might be a good way to get Yorozu off your case,” Uraume suggested, and Sukuna perked up. 

“Right. She fuckin’ hates kids.” 

“So, if you were to have a son, and it's revealed you've been quietly trying to make things work behind the scenes with (Name), then hypothetically–”

“I'll take the runt.”

[thewriterthatghostedyou]

The Dragon and The Wolf

Chapter 2

Trigger warnings: minor character death, canon level violence

This chapter is mainly setting up for future chapters and is me trying to follow canon before breaking it lol. I’m trying to stick to the show but will lengthen things out to fit the story better. Hope you all enjoy!

Divider by @zaldritzosrose

You had slept soundly after a modest dinner with your brother, the fine beds in the Red Keep were much more comfortable than the ones you had stayed in while traveling South.

As you sat up in bed, stretching slightly you smiled at the thought of the tourney beginning today. Cregan had been too young to see the last one the king had hosted celebrating the coming of a son who had never arrived being a babe himself and you were excited to cheer your brother on. Perhaps it wasn’t ladylike in the South to enjoy fights, but that was never an ideal held by your father. He had insisted that you receive archery lessons alongside your brother. To which you happily paid attention to.

“My lady, may we come in?” A soft voice spoke as the door to your chambers were slightly opened.

“Oh yes of course.” You hurriedly got up from the bed and smoothed out your nightgown instinctively.

Two women you had been briefly introduced to last night walked in with shy smiles before starting to prepare your gown for the day. The other lady walked closer to you and motioned for you to sit at a richly adorned vanity.

You obliged and sat into the plush chair looking at your reflection in the mirror. “I suppose I should have my hair out of my face until I get used to the Southern heat.” You ran your fingers through your hair, before looking at the bed behind you and seeing a richly decorated gown being prepared.

You sighed as the events from yesterday returned to you. The petition. “Actually I will trust your judgment.” You smiled at the woman behind you before straightening yourself in front of the mirror. “What are your names again? With all the excitement of yesterday I can’t remember what you had said.” You asked softly as the older woman began brushing your hair.

“My name is Adianna, my lady. My partner’s name is Ursa.”

You repeated the names once watching as Adianna’s skilled fingers began to weave your hair into a regal braid.

As excited as you were for the tourney you dreaded the thought of the petition. It was exactly what your father had told you about the South. Lords and second sons grabbing at power while letting the small folk starve and suffer. You could almost guarantee that the small folk didn’t care about the succession to Driftmark. Well, perhaps those who lived in the Blackwater Bay did seeing as whoever came out on top would lead them.

With one quick flick of her hands, Adianna finished your hair and you shot her a grateful smile. “It looks beautiful! Thank you!” The older maid returned the smile as you walked over to your gown. It had a high neckline and was in your house colors with gray embellishments around the trunk. With ease, the two ladies had you dressed and straightened any wrinkles they could see.

“You look lovely, my lady.” Ursa said, curtising demurely before stepping back.

“Only because of both of your talents.” You returned the compliment, swishing slightly to see the full gown, enjoying the feel of the satin against your legs.

Ursa blushed slightly and curtsied again before leaving in a hurry, a shy smile on her face.

“We will be a call away whenever you would like to prepare for the joust.” Adianna curtsied as well before following her partner.

You studied yourself in an ornate full length mirror as you overheard Adianna talking with a deeper voice. “She’s ready, my lord.”

“Thank you.” You connect the voice to your brother and turn to face him nervously. “Might as well get this over with.” Cregan offered you his arm with a teasing smile.

“Ah yes, the sooner this is over the sooner I can watch you get knocked into the dirt.” You giggled as you took his arm. He was wearing leather armor that looked brand new, adorned with small metal embellishments to fit in at court.

He chuckled and shook his head as the two of you walked arm in arm through the halls. “Do you truly have such little faith in my abilities, sister?”

“I’ll have to see the other knights fight before I’m able to answer.” The two of your footfalls thudding against the stone floors as you take in the interior of the red keep. As you had arrived late last night, you were too exhausted to truly take in your new surroundings.

The path you were on was in a massive hallway, with ceilings reaching lengths you had thought impossible. You tried not to gawk at the multiple massive chandeliers that you passed under and noticed numerous banners that bore the signature Targaryen signal in a striking black and red. The tanned stones were surprisingly bare for the capital but they were smoothed to perfection with white columns holding the floor above you.

“What do you think is going to happen?” You asked as you approached two massive iron double doors.

Cregan was unable to answer as the doors opened and a loud voice rang out. “Lord Cregan Stark and his sister the Lady Y/n Stark.”

You bristled slightly, not expecting to be announced so officially before standing straighter.

There are many other lords and ladies in attendance and it appears as if you and your brother were one the the last to arrive. The two of you walk down the stairs and you notice the obvious division in the room.

On the right stood Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen standing next to an older man with white hair that you assumed was her husband Daemon Targaryen. On her other side stood Lucerys Velaryon with his brother and two other women with Targaryen hair behind him.

On the left side was the Queen, dressed in a dark green gown surrounded by her children. You recognized Aemond and was able to assume that the other man who yawned was her eldest son Aegon. The girl standing next to the queen gave you a small smile. That must be Princess Helaena.

The tension in the room was palpable as both Greens and Blacks stared at the two of you, waiting to see which side you stood on. You knew that this was not a decision to be made lightly. Standing with the Greens implied that you believed that Lucerys should be replaced as heir. Standing with the Blacks meant the opposite. Something told you that lines couldn’t exactly be redrawn after this.

You flicked your eyes to Cregan, not looking at either side, waiting for him to make a choice. Cregan had no hesitation as he led you to the Blacks, honor leading his actions. You followed him easily as another pair was announced, but you didn’t catch their names as you stood next to your brother facing off against the Greens.

You saw Prince Jacaerys give you a small smile that you instinctively returned before turning back towards the iron throne. It was a large jagged thing, although you supposed that nothing else could describe a chair made of swords.

You sneak a quick glance at the Greens, noticing that Princess Helaena seemed unphased by the two of you showing loyalty to the Blacks and instead seemed to be fiddle with her sleeve. It was her brother; however, that caught your attention as two nobles walked over to the Green side he seemed to look past them. You felt chills climb your spine as his stare pierced into you.

You looked away quickly after meeting his eye and swallowed nervously.

The chatter that was occurring died out as the Hand walked up to the Iron Throne.

“Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As hand, I speak with the King’s voice on this and all other matters.”

You were surprised to see them start without the king, although hearing about his condition perhaps the journey to the throne was too much for him.

He sat on the Iron throne as he finished before resuming. “The Crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon.”

He motioned for the older man to step forward and you watched as the younger Prince took a deep breath to steady himself as Vaemond shot him a nasty glare.

“My queen.” He bowed his head to the Hand's daughter. Before turning to him. “My lord Hand.”

“The history of our noble houses extends beyond the seven kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria.” You furrowed your brow at that as the Hightowers had no Valyrian blood before remembering that it was to House Targaryen Vaemond was supposedly speaking too.

“For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas.”

You looked at the Greens again as Vaemond spoke about the history of their houses and was surprised to see Prince Aemond’s gaze still on you. Before you could look away from him he gave you a wide smile that made you feel like your skin was crawling. The glint in his lone eye seemed more dangerous than kind.

Cregan nudged you slightly before turning your attention back to the matter at hand, his gaze also directed at Prince Aemond before returning to you with a sigh.

“The true unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins.” You froze at those words. Vaemond was venturing into dangerous territory.

“As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon.” The Princess cut in pointedly. “If you cared so much about your house’s blood Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold to supplant its rightful heir.” She scoffed before digging back into the man with her words. “No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition.”

“You will have the chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra.” The Queen spoke sternly. “Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard.”

Vaemond gave the Princess a smug grin as he resumed his speech. “What do you know of Velaryon blood, princess?” He held out his arm mockingly. “I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn’t recognize it.”

You rolled your eyes at that. Probably because all people Targaryen and Velaryon alike bled red and not with the signal of their house plastered on it.

“This is about the future and survival of my great house, not yours.” Vaemond looked at each of the great Lords imploringly before respectfully bowing to the Queen and the hand.

“My queen, my lord hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition.” Cregan huffed slightly besides you which caused you to bite back your own laugh. Your father had been right about King’s Landing being full of sycophants and ambitious second sons claiming that their reach for power was honor instead of deception.

“I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother’s successor… the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides.”

“Thank you, Ser Vaemond.” The hand spoke. And you were glad that his long winded speech was finally over.

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velaryon.”

The Princess nodded and refused to look the Queen in the eye as she stepped forward acting exasperated with the idea of this gathering.

“If I am to grace this farce with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very-“

The Princess was cut off by the heavy doors to the throne room opening with a screech.

There were gasps and whispers as the king hobbled into view flanked by two kings guard.

“King Viserys of House Targaryen, the first of his name, King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” The whole court bowed as varying degrees of realization occurred with you and your brother leading the way.

When you glanced back at the Princess you saw the hand scrambling to leave the Iron Throne in the background.

The room was deathly silent as he staggered slowly down the stairs to the throne. It seemed as if the rumors of his health failing were true as his progress was slow and breathing haggard.

As the king passed Princess Rhaenys, she looked at him in shock and sadness as many of the Blacks did, apparently not realizing the severity of his illness.

“I will sit the throne today.” He spoke to the Hand before groaning in pain but still continuing up the stairs and waving off his king guard's attempts to aid him.

As if in slow motion you watched as the crown from his head fell onto the floor with a loud clatter before another hand picked it up. His younger brother’s hand.

The king seemed to try to wave the younger man off before finally relenting and allowed himself to be helped into the throne before Prince Daemon placed the crown on his head once more.

As Prince Daemon returned to his wife’s side the king sat up and spoke. “I must admit my confusion…” He huffed heavily with every few words.

“I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only one present who might offer keener insight into Lord Corly’s wishes is the Princess Rhaenys.”

The whole court turned to look at the woman and whispers started up again that you could not decipher from your position.

“Indeed, your Grace.” The older Princess spoke calmly and strode into the center of the room. You were surprised that the woman had not been called upon sooner being the Lord’s wife. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his true born son Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him.”

Vaemond’s gaze on the Princess was murderous as she finished and your older brother nodded in approval.

You stole a quick glance at Prince Jacaerys and saw him giving his brother a supportive smile. You felt your cheeks blush as he glanced back at you again and your eyes met briefly before the older Princess continued.

“As a matter of fact the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her son Luke to Lord Corlys’s granddaughter Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree.” The other Targaryen next to Prince Lucerys held his hand at that. And you had to stifle your laughter as the Hand and the Queen wore a look of utter defeat.

“Well… the matter is settled. Again.” The king spat out that last word exasperatedly as if there was never any question to how this matter would end. “I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.”

The Princess Rhaenyra placed her hand on her younger son’s shoulder before Ser Vaemond angrily strode forward. “You break law and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No.”

Your older brother sighed at his outburst. “He doesn’t know when to quit does he?” He whispered to you under his breath.

“Apparently not.” You replied watching the grown man throw a fit.

“I will not allow it.”

“Allow it?” The king rasped out irritated at the outburst. “Do not forget yourself, Vaemond.”

“No.” The man spoke passionately before whirling to point at the young boy. “That is no true Velaryon!” He yelled, loud enough to make the boy flinch. “And certainly is no nephew of mine.”

“Go to your chambers, you have said enough.” The Princess Rhaenyra scolded him, but provided the man with a way out of the hole he had thrown himself into. A way that he steadily ignored.

“Lucerys is my true-born grandson.” The king cut in. “And you are no more than the second son of Driftmark.”

You and your brother exchanged a knowing glance at his words and you tried to convey your thoughts to him. ‘Always the second son isn’t it?’

Your brother shook his head and gave you a quick smirk.

“You may run your house as you see fit…” Ser Vaemond clenched his hands in front of him similar to the way your two year old nephew did whenever he was pouting. “But you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned I will not see it ended on the account of this…” Vaemond swallowed angrily as if determining whether or not to proceed.

“Her children…” He spoke softly before yelling again. “ARE BASTARDS! And she…” He pointed at Princess Rhaenyra with a knowing grin. “Is… a whore.”

Your eyes widened at that and instinctively grabbed Cregan’s arm. Vaemond Velaryon had dug his own grave with those words. Scanning the room to see the reactions you looked the One Eye Prince once more and was relieved that his gaze was no longer trained on you but on his young nephew with a shit eating grin.

The King flew from the Throne with a strength you didn't know he had in him and unsheathed a dagger on his hip. “I will have your tongue for that!”

But before he could advance on the man a swishing sound was heard followed by gasps and a scream or two as Prince Daemon sliced Vaemond’s head cleanly in two. You felt Cregan pull you behind him instinctively before the act had been done and gasped along with the rest of the crowd.

“He can keep his tongue.” The Rogue Prince said cheekily as he wiped off his sword and walked back to his wife.

There was a loud clatter of armor that rushed behind you as the king's guard rushed to aid the king who must have fallen back into the Throne.

“Call the maesters!” His wife released her daughter from her hold and ran to her husband as the unoccupied guards started to usher everyone besides the royal family from the room.

Cregan gripped your hand tightly as he dragged you from the room and only loosened his grip after you had exited the throne room and were halfway back to your chambers. “This is worse than I thought.” He shook his head before rubbing his face. “I should not have brought you here.” You followed him into his chambers as he paced around the room.

“Cregan, it is the best place for me to find a husband.” You said, trying to calm your brother down. “Perhaps it may be more bloody than I had expected it to be, but once this is over we can go home.” You grabbed him tightly by the shoulders as you spoke and dug your heels into the floor to stop his worried pacing.

“You don’t understand.” Cregan shook his head at you this time. “You are a Stark and I command an army of 45,000 men. A number that not even the crown could muster up. That many men would change the tide of a war, sister.”

“We are not yet at war, brother.” You reminded him softly. “The king is still alive.” For now.

“But not for much longer.” Cregan interrupted you, voicing your thoughts. “We both know that when King Viserys dies the Greens and the Blacks will both stake a claim to the throne and the ensuing war will be much more bloody than what we just witnessed. There is a reason both Targaryen princes have shown such an interest in you.”

You shivered at the thought of Aemond’s gaze but said nothing.

“The Greens believe that if you were to marry into their side that the North would follow.” Cregan broke apart from you softly and reached for a pitcher of wine.

“We would never support them.” You added in quickly. “Just as Lord Corlys made his wishes for succession clear, so too did the King. Our father took an oath-“

“One that I will uphold.” Your brother poured himself a glass of wine before filling another for you. “Even if he had not done so I would still support the Princess. She is objectively more level headed then Prince Aegon and would be a better ruler.” He handed you the glass to which you happily drank from.

“If we do not wish to be caught between the two factions how do we proceed?” You took a sip of the sweetened wine.

Your brother was silent for a moment, sipping his own drink thoughtfully. “It is too late for that to be avoided. We need to reaffirm our own loyalty to the Princess.” He said finally.

“And how do you suggest we do that?” You plopped into a nearby plush chair.

Cregan sat across from you and placed his glass on a nearby table looking at you with sadness in his eyes. “I hate that it has come to this, but there is no better gesture of loyalty than wedding one of our own to a member of the Blacks.” You blushed involuntarily as the image of Prince Jacaerys came to your mind.

“You expect me to ensnare the Prince?” You raised an eyebrow at that. Surely the attractive man had many beautiful suitors that would demand his attention.

“It does not have to be him.” Cregan shrugged. “But it does need to be to a house that sides with them. Lords Celtigar and Ser Davos Blackwood are unmarried and honorable men.”

You hummed at the thought before nodding slowly. “Then let’s go find me a husband.”

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Petition Outfit

[dalliesque]

🍿 How Sweet — Dohoon TWS

3. first date day written!

[ 870 words, not proofread, LOTS of time skip]

the waited day is finally here, you've arrived to your new work place. taking a last look in your small mirror, closing it and breathing in the air around you. 'slow and steady' you breath deeply once again mustering up courage, entering the dimly lit building.

—

"everyone please welcome y/n summer. dear, i've assign you to be part of the usher team, though during the week training dohoon summer is gonna help you learn more than just ushering. that'll include sound check, preparing snacks, ticketing and a whole lot more. understood?"

"yes sir." you nod, taking a mental note at all that's been informed to you. mr kim wraps up the short meeting leaving you in the room with dohoon and some other coworkers. summer is used to refer people working in the summers or part-time, you find it adorable and odd at the same time.

"hi! do you remember me? im bae."

"noona this is anton!"

"im juyeon, can i call you noona?"

you greet all of them giddily, glad to find the people from yesterday's group. time went by fast and now it's time for the training to start. "we're so sorry, are we yapping right now? you must've been so uncomfortable" you smile softly, replying with a reassuring tone. "it was lovely listening to you guys talking, plus i got some more information about the cinema right?"

"that's true but—" "it's about time for the training, we better get going." dohoon cuts short of the talks. you purse your lips, bowing at the other coworkers following dohoon out of the meeting room. you sigh feeling way better than inside of the small room. it's not like you didn't enjoy talking to them but, there's something suffocating about one of them that you can't put your hands around. it was the guy named juyeon.

"if you ever feel uncomfortable, just tell them. they talk too much." dohoon speaks nonchalantly, glancing your way. "oh it's nothing, i really enjoy hearing them talking." you brush the thoughts off, convincing yourself it's nothing much.

"was it juyeon? i'll make sure you won't see him that often during the training"—"it's really nothing you don't need to worry" dohoon sigh, not speaking another word during the whole training session unless it's something you need to learn about.

-

you're now behind the counter, working with your best power to help the elderly couple in front of you. dohoon had finished helping you with ushering, teaching you how the walkie-talkie works, how to communicate with other coworkers, asking for support, and a lot of other things you should know as an usher now the last training of the day is to work with ticketing. fortunately, an elderly couple walked in today helping you learn more about it. usually, most younger people would've just bought their tickets through the online service provided, but elderly people wouldn't be very familiar with that. prefering the offline way instead.

after a while, dohoon's gaze drifts away from your work and onto your face. He notices the way your brow furrows in concentration, the slight pout of your lips as you focus on your work. his heart skips a beat as he realizes just how much he loves seeing you like this. 'she's so pretty- wait what, no! kim dohoon get yourslef togheter she's just a coworker!' dohoon ponder, sighing at his sudden thoughts.

"oh, im sorry. did i do something wrong?" you panic, thinking you've done something wrong to make him sigh like that. "oh um it's nothing. i was just thinking about something. you're doing good." dohoon silently screams inside of his head, cursing as he's distracted by your concentration in your work. he finds it rather attractive.

"i'll leave you for a moment, i got a call from manager kim." "okay! take care." dohoon left, using manager kim's request as an excuse to get away from the woman that made his heart pounding.

"noona! whoaa... you look like a professional!" anton walks into the counter, nudging you by the side. "ah, it's nothing. im new, after all." you rub your nape, fluster at the sudden compliment. "still better than me, you know ! when i started working part-time it took me 2 weeks to understand just ticketing." anton sighs, leaning towards the counter. "never again." you chuckle, patting his back.

"oh, a customer, you should tackle this noona! i'll be here when you need me." anton wink, stepping behind to let you train yourself.

you welcome the customer. the customer appears to be very, very rude, with the overwhelming demands you try your best not to cry right then and there. you look back, finding anton smiling 'need help?' he mouthed. you nod grateful at the help. "anton summer, can you help with this customers request and usher them?" you mouth a 'thank you' to him, receiving a smile in return.

-

"thank you for today dohoon summer, i'll see you again tomorrow."

"hmm. do you need a ride?" "it's fine, maybe next time." you smile at the offer, rejecting it politely. "alright then see you tomorrow y/n summer. text me when you arrive."

-

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[lemotmo]

I love it when people who at least have an idea of how these things work get questions like this.

Q. Did you hear Ryan's podcast? I'm vibrating at this point 👀👀👀

A. Haha, I did listen to it, anon. It was a good reminder of why podcasts usually turn out to be the better interviews. If you're not aware, in 99% of print interviews the questions have been pre screened by the actors/show so they go into the interview already knowing pretty much everything they're going to say. It's why so many of them are repetitive. Podcasts tend to have a little more leeway. They usually only have to get topics pre-approved. So even though they know what topics are going to be discussed they don't usually know the specific questions. Now obviously those interviews come with greater risks because if your actor doesn't know how to edit themselves they could say something epically bad. Obviously this one was pre-recorded so he had a little bit of a safety cushion but it didn't appear to be heavily edited content wise. I love that he touched on the racist/bigoted thing. Even though this came prior to the entire Gerard nonsense, I'm glad he got a chance to tell those people how incredibly wrong they are where he is concerned. I hope he hasn't seen most of it, but given everything he has been tagged in I fear he has seen more than he should have ever had too.

He's in the position now that Oliver was last year. He's the one doing the promotional interviews, but he's just out of canned answers he can give, lol. There's nothing left for him to say except the 'thing' he can't yet say. So you can tell he's trying to make the same answers sound somewhat new and for the most part he was able to do that. It was though just one more thing that kind of made you go, yeah it's going where we think it's going. I just think the show is all out of later. They can't keep pushing the story to 'next season'. And I think that's why we're seeing so many winks and nods from ABC and the show. The comments they replied to yesterday were intentional. Yes, they deleted them but they knew the people who they were intended for would see them and remember them. It's time. Let's go.

Thanks Nonny!

Ah yes! Hard agree on everything here! I haven't seen/heard the whole podcast yet (I'm planning to listen tomorrow when I'm relaxing), but I've seen all of the videos, snippets and quotes about 911 and Eddie that were posted online.

Everything is aligning and people are noticing the change. There is this tentative surge of emotion of 'Oh wow, this is it. It's actually happening this time. No more clowning,' going around in fandom and even beyond the fandom. Love that for us.

So yeah, the time is right.

The time is now.

Let's go!

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Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[silverfoxstole]

Recording Shada in 2002.

From DWM 330, May 2003:

PAUL MCGANN

INTERVIEW BY GARY GILLATT

We first spoke in Vancouver in 1996…

[sings] Ah yes, I remember it well…

…And here we are in Bristol, years later, with James Fox and Andrew Sachs. Would you ever have thought it?

Well, when my agent was telling me about it, I thought we had a bad line. She said, ‘James Fox is in it, and Andrew Sachs, and so-and-so and such-and-such’ and I assumed I was mishearing. I mean, how could it be?

Were you familiar with the work of Douglas Adams?

Not really, only Hitchhiker’s Guide. I’m not a sci-fi reader at all, that’s not my thing. I didn’t really know a great deal about Adams – I certainly didn’t realise he was this amazing polymath. But Lalla speaks so eloquently and passionately about him, and I’ve come to understand why he was so well-loved and respected, and, of course, the quality of the script speaks for itself.

Are you enjoying playing the script?

Well, compared to last year’s plays, and the year before, you can definitely tell it’s from a different source. It has a different tack, and a whole different kind of wit. If you were at a blind tasting, and shown just a page or two of every script we’ve done, you’d easily spot that this one came from somewhere else, from a very fertile mind. It’s great stuff.

Everyone seems to have treated the script with great respect. Almost every line seems to be debated as you all try to get the best of out it.

Comedy is a very serious business. If it was a so-called straight drama, you probably wouldn’t find that much discussion.

So it’s exacting work?

Oh yes, very much so. If a thing is meant to be funny, you’ve got to make sure it’s funny, so you’ve got to get it right. In drama, your main directions are ‘quicker’, ‘slower’, ‘louder’, ‘quieter’. But on something like this you have to watch how you spin every word. It’s not something you can be lazy about.

I hear you’re missing India Fisher…

I sure am. Every time the studio door opens, I think she’s going to walk through. It’s the association with this place, where we do all these plays, and this is the first one we’ve done without her, so it seems very strange. She’ll be back next year, though, won’t she?

I certainly hope so. Will you?

Well, yes, that’s in the planning stages. Apparently, as was revealed to me yesterday, 2003 is the 40th anniversary of Doctor Who, and they’re planning something of a special with me and Davison and Sylv and Colin Baker. I think they’re going to have us as some sort of barbershop quartet or something.

So you’re still finding it fun, being the Doctor?

You sound very sure of yourself when you ask that… You’ve phrased the question to get the answer you want, I think!

Well, I guess as a fan, I’d like to think that Doctor Who likes being Doctor Who…

Well, I’ll put your mind at rest, then, because I am still enjoying it. I like working on audios more than on screen. Day in, day out, it’s just more of a laugh. Doing the visual work, on TV or in pictures, you never get to hang around with the rest of the cast. Here we can swap stories in the green room, or go off in a gang to the pub for lunch. When you’re working on pictures it’s not like that. You go in, do your little bit, and then you’re shunted off to a trailer out of the way. This is much more fun. It’s what being an actor is all about, and I have Doctor Who to thank for that opportunity.

Extracts from the recording of Shada:

The Doctor decides it’s time to get to the point. “What have you done with the Professor’s mind?” he asks.

“It will be put to a more useful purpose,” replies Skagra, haughtily.

“I would argue that it was serving a very useful purpose where it was.” ”Not to me.”

“You realise he died?” says the Doctor.

“Only his mind was of use to me,” says Skagra. “Not his life.”

“You take a very proprietorial attitude to people’s brains,” responds the Doctor, calmly.

“It seems to me,” says Skagra, his voice rising slightly, “that the Time Lords take a very proprietorial view of the Universe.”

There is a pause.

“Hold on,” says Lalla Ward, looking across the room to Nick, the director. “Surely the Doctor would be more accurate about his reference there. Skagra hasn’t stolen the Professor’s brain, only his mind.”

“That’s right,” agrees Andrew Sachs, dropping his thin, high Skagra voice. “The actual brains stay in their heads, don’t they?”

“It’s a good point,” replies Nick. “I imagine that Douglas was trying to avoid repetition of the word ‘mind’.”

“Well Douglas should have known better,” says Lalla, firmly. “And it’s a bit silly to worry about repetition of the word ‘mind’ now. It’s all ‘I want your mind, I want his mind’ for the next 60 pages.”

“So would you like me to change ‘brain’ to ‘mind’ on that line?” queries Paul McGann. “Because, y’know, I think the Doctor would be far more accurate about his reference there.”

—-

The Krag commander growls its greeting to Skagra. “What are your orders, my Lord?”

Andrew Sachs peers over his script. “Cod and chips twice, please. And a carton of mushy peas.”

—-

Paul McGann is recording assorted screams and moans to signify the Doctor’s mistreatment by Skagra’s mind-sucking sphere. “Argh!” he groans, “Aargh…ugh…aaargh!”

“Thanks, Paul,” says Nick. “That’s just brilliant.”

“Three years at RADA for that!” laughs Paul gleefully. “Would you like me to do some more?”

Nick smiles and turns to Andrew Sachs. “Now could we just do your lines as the sphere attacks the Doctor again?” Andrew nods and clears his throat. “This time, Doctor,” sneers the icy voice of Skagra, “This time no one will come to your rescue. I shall have your mind.” It’s chilling stuff.

“Y’know,” says Paul, “I believe you!”

“Poor Skagra,” says Andrew. “I have the feeling he’s a very lonely man. I think he needs a wife and kids. A talking spaceship’s no real substitute for the love of a good woman, is it?”

—-

Skagra has some seriously sexy transport, and the Doctor is stealing it.

“Ship!” shouts the Doctor. “Activate all re-aligned drive circuits.”

“Something very strange is happening,” says the ship, all sultry sibilance.

“Ta-daa!” cheers the Doctor.

Hannah Gordon is in a separate sound booth. “Should I be getting more roused there?” she asks over the loudspeaker.

“I don’t think so,” says Nick. “Just keep it honey-voiced and seductive.”

In the gallery, artist Lee Sullivan crosses his legs. “I don’t think I can take much more,” he says. “I may have to leave the room. I never found myself attracted to a spaceship before!”

In the studio, Sean Biggerstaff is fidgeting with his headphones. “It’s very strange working with a sexy, disembodied voice in your ear,” he says.

“I can’t see any downside to that,” muses Paul.

“Hey, that’s me you’re talking about,” replies Hannah in a sexy, disembodied way.

—-

An invisible spaceship,” smiles Lalla. “Such a brilliant idea from Douglas.”

“And now we have an invisible spaceship on audio,” adds Paul.

“Douglas would have laughed at that. It’s just so marvellously perverse.”

“Shall we go and explore it?”

“Oh, yes, let’s explore…”