#and then i didn't feel like playing trespasser so i just watched their trespasser complete videos lol

[13skeletons]

watched a couple DAI romance scenes on youtube so I wouldn't have to replay the whole game for two (2) short dialogues* and now it keeps reccing Cullen romance videos. I am beating the algorithm to death with a really big stick

[ivy-loves-chocolate]

omgomgomg, resident evil boys with reader who ALWAYS falls asleep on them. Like they could just be sitting next next to each other watching a movie or even at a RESTAURANT and then they feel a weight on their shoulder and reader is just snoozing

AAAAH oh my god I totally love this idea and I also oved writing it. Thank you so much anon for this and I hope you'll like it 🥰 I also do commissions if y'all are interested 💖

Both of you were in the lab late at night, waiting for some results. Wesker was sitting in front of a microscope, analizing a sample, and you were right next to him, completing a report. Only the sound of your keyboard could be heard in the room, as you typed rigorously.

"Hey Wesker," you said, yawning. "How much 'till the results come up?"

"They should be ready any minute now. If you want, go rest. I'll finish around."

"No, it's fine. I want to keep you company."

Maybe you were tired and were hallucinating, but you swear you saw Wesker smile. It wasn't a big one, just a satisfying smirk that appeared on his face.

Wesker paid no mind to you and kept observing the molecules. He liked when you were seeking his attention, and he often would play clueless to your hints just to toy with you. He had a satisdic pleasure to see you sweat over your own emotions and insecurities, especially when they were a direct result of your interactions.

While being consumed by his own ego,

While observing the chain reactions, he felt something heavy leaning on his shoulder.

He peeked over his shoulder and saw your head, which was laying heavy. You were long gone in the dreamland.

"Y/N," he said, but there was no reaction. He noticed that you were in a deep slumber and didn't have the heart to wake you up.

"I told them to go to sleep," he murmured. "They always end up like this."

He slowly moved his arms under your shoulders and knees and lifted you up, heading to the nearest bedroom. That was one of the advantages of working in a mansion.

He slowly placed you on the soft mattress, caressed your head a few times, removing some strands of hair from your face, and left, closing the door slowly behind him. He also left some coffee and a note saying that he would handle the rest of the procedure and to continue your day as usual.

Despite his cold attitude towards you, he cares for you, and he misses you when you're not around. He will never admit that, tho, not to you or even to himself.

Staying up late to complete reports isn't a fun activity unless you do it with somebody you like.

Leon's fingers typed rigorously on the keyboard while you were next to him, helping with the details.

"The fight with the knights was before or after I reunited with Ashley?"

"After... and then you got in the castle to find Luis..."

"Right"

He felt the fatigue and boredom taking over his body, his eyelids closing, but he trespassed to give his body a quick boost so he could take another sip of coffee.

He peeked at you and noticed that you weren't rested either. I mean, you were in the same village, doing the same thing: rescuing the president's daughter, and it wasn't like somebody pated your shoulders and told you to go rest because you deserved it. No, you took a quick nap at home, and then you had to finish the rest of your assignments just like a regular day.

Leon continued writing because he knew that the sooner he'd finish, the faster you could go to sleep.

Suddenly, he felt something heavy leaning over his shoulder. When he turned around, he saw your head resting on him. He looked at you with half-lidded eyes and thought, "this must be nice," and smiled.

He gently caressed your head a few times and then went back to his writing.

A few minutes passed, and you jumped, sending a powerful shock to your numbed body. You immediately regained consciousness and looked around, seeing Leon in the same spot but with a smirk over his face.

"Slept well?"

"Yeah, your shoulder is very comfy," you said, rubbing your eyes.

"At least this is what I can do: provide a comfy shoulder," he chuckled.

You wrapped your arms around his and leaned again over him, this time without falling asleep. He smelt so nice and was so clean.

"Ashley wasn't rescued again until after you killed Ramon," you said as your eyes quickly scanned the report.

"Thanks." He smiled and kissed your head. You stayed glued to him like that until you both fell asleep.

You were having a well-deserved rest in the comfort of your home after long, long months of working. Luis put a film on the TV, bought some snacks, and poured two glasses of wine.

"There you go, love," he said as he handed you your glass and sat next to you.

"Thank you," you said, giving him a warm smile. "It's nice being you with you like this, you know, not being surrounded by dead bodies and viruses." 

"Tell me about it! I can't remember the last time I had a normal night. It's been so long!" 

You were both sleep-deprived and burned out, and you barely kept your eyes open. The ideal date was falling asleep in his arms, but he wanted to do something a little nicer.

The movie just started, and you sat very comfortably in Luis's embrace. His arm was wrapped around your body, and you were leaning on him.

"Great choice, y/n." he said as he kissed your forehead gently. He pressed a long, lingering kiss before moving his eyes to the screen. He loved feeling your presence and the warmth of your body. It eased his soul.

Suddenly, he felt something heavy leaning on his chest. He quickly lowered his gaze and saw that you had fallen asleep.

"My love," he chuckled, pressing another kiss on your head.

He took another sip of wine and stared blankly at the TV. A powerful feeling of sadness overwhelmed him all of a sudden. Maybe he was just tired; maybe all of the feelings he swept tunder the rug were coming out, who knows, but he was sure of one thing: he didn't want to lose you.��Luis took a deep breath and tightened his embrace. You were there, and that was what mattered to him.

His vision started to blur, the actor's lines were nonsense, and they talked gibberish. His whole body felt heavy, and in a few moments, he joined you in the dreamland, trying to find you in your dreams.

After a long day of training, you two decided to eat in the cafeteria and talk about the day.

You were sitting next to him on the comfortable sofa, eating leftover cake.

"This is still good," you said, taking another bite.

"I don't know how you can eat that. I've been sitting here all day," he said, making a grimace while looking at the cake.

"Stop being a hater for once and enjoy the simplest things in life. You might die tomorrow."

"That might kill you today."

You scoffed and shoved the rest of the cake into your mouth ostentatiously. He rolled his eyes.

"You can be so stubborn sometimes."

"I know, but luckily for me, you have patience."

You nugged his shoulder, and you caught him smirking.

You began talking about the day, the government, and even random stuff like trends and articles. Krauser was very different when he wasn't on the job. He talked more freely, he swore often, and he even laughed more, but when he did, it was full of satisfaction and life. He meant it.

He kept talking about how the government is corrupted, and you often agreed with him.

"I admire you, tho." He began. "You don't take anyone's bullshit. You fight back."

Silence.

"I know maybe I dumped a lot of things on you right now, but to be honest, I don't trust many people. I also..." he sighed, "...enjoy your presence."

The prolonged silence made him paranoid. Suddenly, he felt something heavy leaning on his shoulder, and when he peeked, he noticed you fell asleep.

"Do I bore you too?" he whispered. "Heh, I guess all superiors have this effect." He smirked and closed his eyes.

He cared about you more than he'd like to admit. He sees the potential in you, and he hopes that some day you will be able to make a change, as he feels it's too late for him due to his age. Because of that, he is harsher with you during training and missions.

He followed you shortly, snoring as he fell deep into the slumber.

He wanted to take you out to dinner, so he chose his favourite bar, where they serve the best steak. The football game was playing in the background, and the people were cheering and clinking their beers. A lot of noise was around you, but regardless, Chris was giving you all of his attention.

You stayed next to him as you two ate. You felt so safe with him, so peaceful. Chris tried not to give too many details about his missions, so he would gossip about what was going on with his team, who fought with whom, and what his superiors told him—the bare minimum.

"Are you sure there's nothing more you want to tell me?" you asked, interrupting him mid-sentence. Even if the tea was juicier than the steak (lots of betrayals, make-up, fights), you felt like he was hiding something.

"Hmmm... yeah, I'm pretty sure. Don't stress too much about it; I'm fine." He kissed your cheek and returned to his plate.

The national team scored a goal. The crowd was cheering and yelling, enhancing the bustle and excitement that was already in the bar.

You didn't notice the noise anymore; you got used to it. Chris' presence was making you drowsier than usual, probably because you also have your stomach full now.

"I didn't expect so many people today; otherwise, I would've cooked at home," he said in a slightly annoyed tone as he was looking around the room. "But the important thing for me is that you fee-" he said in a more cheerful tone, but was cut off mid-sentence again when he felt something heavy leaning over his shoulder. He peeked and smiled when he saw that you fell asleep.

"Look at that; I didn't know it was possible," he chuckled.

Chris remained still, as he didn't want to wake you up.

Everything he does, it's just for you. He goes on those missions just to make sure that the world is one step closer to being safe. He doesn't recognise the line between his own fantasies and reality, but every time he steps out of that door, he goes with a full heart because he knows that every time he comes back, you'll wait for him with a warm meal and a warm smile.

[retroellie]

The Other Woman

Summary: After seeing Lila kiss spencer in the pool, all reason leaves your body and creates a jealous mess inside your head. You can thing of only one way to dull the ache of jealousy.

A/N: This lowkey sucks but it's whatever :) I'm so unmotivated and my writers block is terrible omfg. I hope y'all enjoy though <3

Warnings: NSFW, cheating(ish), L*la, Mommy kink, face sitting, unprotected sex, unexperienced spencer, normal Criminal Minds stuff

Word count: 7.6K

Of course, you knew you were acting like a teenage girl, the petty silent treatment was straight of a high school romance. Reid was just trying to do his job, he was told to do something, and he did it. So, you shouldn't be angry. He was trying to prevent another victim; he was trying to protect Lila. Fucking Lila. If it were anyone else, then maybe you would just be able to forget it, but it wasn't someone else. It was her. It was hot blonde, breakout movie star Lila. Her and her perfect body, pretty face, long legs, her beautiful smile, and her money. She was everything a man could want, so what stopped Reid from wanting it too?

It made you uncomfortable in the first place, him being the one to stay with her. You asked Gideon if maybe Elle could do it or even Hotch, but he said since Lila and Spencer were somewhat friends, it would make her more comfortable. But what about you? What about your comfort? You decided to leave your pettiness out of your work, keep your jealousy to yourself, and catch the stalker so you could get out of here, go back to your stupid life with Reid.

You were already feeling sick enough about the entire thing, she could steal Reid from you in a heartbeat and all you could do was let her... But seeing him in the pool with her, her only in a bathing suit and him soaking wet. It played with your heartstrings, wondering everything that could've happened. Spencer couldn't look you in the eye, even after you asked him if he was okay. He just let out a small hum, looking down at his gun while he tried to dry it off. You knew something had happened; did you even want to know? You asked yourself.

You had no choice since Morgan shoved the camera in your face. The pictures of Lila and Spencer, her lips on his. 'Of course, she looked pretty when she hungrily made out with someone' you thought, rolling your eyes mentally. Spencer just watched your face, as it contorted into an unknown expression to him. He was a profiler, yet he could never read you...you were completely foreign to him. It intrigued him when he first met you, it frustrated him. Spencer Reid was a genius, he knew everything. So, him not knowing your brain frustrated him. That's exactly why he fell in love with you, he had to work to understand you and he ended up falling in love with you trying to figure you out.

Spencer opened his mouth to explain himself, but you dismissed it by explaining how you didn't think that the man who took the photos was the unsub. You explain how "he was too cocky and too visible; the unsub would have been more careful than the trespassing paparazzi." You did have a new lead however and you didn't hesitate before you ran off to go follow it. You just wanted to get away from Spencer, you needed to be away from him. You should have heard him out, you would've heard him out but as said before... It was Lila. Girls like her always got what they wanted; they didn't even have to fight for it either. So, you knew how this went, Spencer would leave you for her and you would have to work with him for the rest of your life knowing... you allowed him to be stolen.

You eventually caught the unsub, well Spencer did. It was one of Lila's friends, Maggie. She was desperately in love with Lila but Lila wasn't in love with her back, she killed her victims to show her love for Lila. You somehow understood how she felt as fucked up as it sounds. You understand why people kill for the people they love, how they would do anything just for the person they love. You could see yourself doing that for Spencer, it scared you of what you were willing to do for him. After Maggie had been caught, Hotch told the team to meet back at the local police departments to make their reports. However, you headed back to the hotel, stating that you had fallen sick to Hotch. Obviously hotch knew, he wasn't stupid and he didn't need to be a profiler to know what you were feeling. You were hurt.

So here you are now, in your hotel room... alone. You were writing your reports for other cases, completely neglecting the Lila case. In the state you were in, you couldn't even think of a blonde woman without the heartbreak sensation creeping up again. You hoped to do other cases, the most gruesome cases... The cases with blood and guts would help make that feeling go away or at least dissolve the lump in your throat. You felt like you were 16 again, watching as your prom date went into the bathroom with the popular girl. Your stomach sank as you saw him holding onto her hand, leading him into the biggest stall... all you could do was watch. You suddenly felt every stitch of your dress, all your organs working together, every light molecule on your skin. It was hell.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a knock at your door, your heart dropping as it did. You would think of years of profiling psychopaths, you would be able to handle a knock at the door. For some reason that knock was the scariest thing to you. You sighed softly, putting the paperwork that was sprawled out on the hotel bed to the side and throwing yourself over the side of the bed. You walked to the door, the cold air of the hotel room making you shiver. Your hand touched the cold doorknob, pulling the door open and seeing a figure. Your eyes adjusted and soon you were met with his brown ones.

"Hi..." He said, giving you a soft smile.

"Hi." You said coldly.

It was an awkward encounter for sure, something that happens often but it's more comfortable than this. As of now, all you could think about was Spencer's face smashed up against hers. You were now hyper-aware of everything around you, feeling as though you could hear the colors making up the room. Spencer just stood there, hands in his pockets and giving you that strange grin.

"You weren't at the police station... Hotch told me you were feeling sick." He started, trying to pick up a conversation but for the first time since you met Spencer Reid... he was at a loss for words.

You nodded, confirming Hotch's statement. You could tell what he wanted to ask, so desperately. You were a profiler, you could tell by his fidgeting hand, his eye twitch, the way he couldn't make eye contact with you for more than 4 seconds... He was holding himself back. Spencer knew he did wrong, very wrong. Not only with you but professionally. You're not supposed to kiss a civilian you are told to keep watch on as a federal agent. It's inappropriate and wrong... but Reid could care less about that fact, the kiss meant nothing to him. He was more worried about you. You hadn't talked to him since you saw him in the pool with Lila, you didn't tell him you were going back to the hotel, you didn't even kiss him goodbye before you left Lilas. You bit your lip softly, playing with the flesh as you looked down at your feet.

"Uh yeah..." You started, looking back up at him. "Must have eaten something bad or something..."

Spencer didn't believe you, not for a second. He was never good with social cues but at this moment, he could read the situation better than anyone. However, Spencer has never been in a relationship before... you were his first everything. He'd never been exposed to the petty drama that comes with having a girlfriend, so he wasn't too sure how to go with this conversation. He knew he did wrong, but how does he go about communicating that with you? He doesn't want to make it seem like you're overreacting or you are stupid for being mad... damn, maybe he's overthinking it now. If Spencer Reid is good at anything though, it's statistics.

"You know..." He starts, about to go on one of his Reid rants. "Statistically, 58% of the time people don't actually have anything wrong with their stomach. Mostly it's more psychological than it is physical. Mostly caused by anxiety, guilt or anger."

You were used to these Reid rants at this point. Being with Spencer Reid for 2 years and knowing him for even longer, you have a lot of useless information in your brain that he has nonconsensually given you. You let that information sink into the part of your brain that you will most likely not return to, not even going to attempt to comprehend what number he had just given you. Your face automatically contorted itself into a look that said "Please shut up, leave me alone, and never perceive me again.".

"You think I'm lying?" You ask, not sure whether you're actually offended or it's because you can't get the picture of her kissing him out of your head.

It wasn't Spencer's intention to make you upset, no... that's not why he came here. He just knew that it was deeper than a stomach ache, he knew that your mind was going wild with possibilities and him knowing you, he knew you wouldn't say anything about it. Spencer knew why you did the work you did, he knew you couldn't solve your own problems so you decided to solve others. That's why Spencer didn't wait for you to come to him because he knew you never would. Spencer shook his head eagerly.

"No! no... of course not." He blurted out, looking everywhere but your eyes. "I'm just saying that i think the stomach ache your feeling isn't really a stomach ache... maybe it has something to do with the thing that happened with me and Lila."

The sound of her name sliding off his tongue sounded so frictionless... so effortless. It made you wonder if your name sounded the same, suddenly you forgot what your name sounded like coming out of his mouth. You shook that feeling off real quick, hoping if you pushed it down far enough it would simply go away. You weren't stupid though, you knew what pushing things down would do. It would turn you into something not human, or maybe something that is between a human and something else... it would turn you into Maggie or maybe even the hundreds of people you catch a year. It's funny how you can figure out another person's shit so fast, yet you are still wondering what your shit even is.

You sigh softly, rolling your eyes as you step away from the door and making your way to the small hotel "kitchen". The only thing the kitchen was good for was making coffee or tea, something that you have been living on for the past couple of years. You've found yourself purposely making it bad, the BAU will ruin you like that. You poured yourself some coffee, hearing Spencer walk in and shut the door behind him.

"Or maybe I just have a stomach ache." You say softly, putting the coffee pot back and then pouring pounds of sugar into your coffee. "Besides, it doesn't really matter anymore. The unsub was caught, Lilas safe... we did our job."

Spencer bites his lip nervously, watching you bring your coffee up to your lips and take a swig. As said before, Spencer isn't good with relationships or girls... or really anything that isn't statistics and books, so he isn't sure how to tell you that he is worried about you. He likes you, he'd probably go as far as to say he loves you and he doesn't want this to end. He knows that this will not end well, that your bottled-up emotions will be the end of your relationship. Spencer notices all the case reports scattered over your bed, seeing how you haven't even started on the most recent one... lilas.

"I read in one of my books about human relationships that most relationships end due to no com..." He starts, being interrupted by your tired, jealous self.

"Please, Spencer! enough with the statistics..." You spit, almost yelling... something you've never done to read. You turn to face him, coffee cup still in your hand, burning your skin. "Just spit out what you're trying to say to me."

Spencer gulps slightly, seeing how angry you've already become and you've only bottled this much hatred for less than a day. He knows you don't mean to yell, he knows it. He knows this job does this to a person, makes them angry... messes with their head until they are only a shell of themselves. Spencer adjusts himself, not sure what he is going to say but his plan is just to speak... hoping that the words will form as he does so. He licks his lips, taking in a breath and facing you finally.

"What happened between me and Lila..." He paused, gathering all the courage and breath he had left in this moment. "It meant nothing. I mean yeah we kissed, I mean she kissed me. I told her I had a girlfriend, multiple times. She still did it and I was shocked that I let it happen... but I felt nothing. I swear. And I know you don't want to talk about it, it's uncomfortable and it hurts you too, but I want to talk about it because it hurts me when I think it hurts you. This job can take whatever it wants from me... but I can't live with myself if I let it take you from me." He rambles out.

His breath gets heavy, all the oxygen from his lungs being taken from that single rant. He could've gone on, he wanted to go on but the look on your face made him stop. You looked even more hurt... or did you look relieved... Spencer couldn't tell, you were too hard to read for him. You couldn't explain the feeling either, it was a mix of everything. It was a mix of guilt and content... but most importantly, lust. The ramble had your face heating up and your underwear dampening. You shouldn't be feeling this way at this moment, no... not when your poor boyfriend just poured his heart out to you. but the way his voice was whiny... the way he begged for you, the way his face was now flush... How could you not?

You set your coffee cup down, making your way over to his tall figure. His breathing stopped almost as he could feel your presence getting closer to him, he'd never felt this uneasy in your presence but in this moment, he was afraid of what your next move would be. You were now face to face with Spencer, looking up at him with doe eyes as you watched him nervously fidget with his bottom lip. This feeling you felt was not new, it was something you felt for Spencer when he did pretty much anything. The deep fire that sparked within your stomach was always there when around him, something you were able to control and others... Well, you had to strip him down right then. However, you had never felt this feeling be so potent, so overwhelmingly rich.

"You really mean it?" You said simply, wanting nothing more than to hear him say he wanted you more than you wanted him. Spencer cleared his throat, shifting on his feet as he nervously stood in front of you.

"Yes...I really mean it Y/N." He admitted, his voice laced with desperation. He just wanted his girlfriend, that's all he's ever wanted.

You grin softly, eyes slightly watering as you hear his confession. You knew that Spencer would do anything for you, anything. But hearing it... hearing it gave you a sudden power rush. It made your hands shake, complete dominance running through your body. Your grin caused Spencer to relax, knowing that maybe there was a chance you could forgive him. Your hand snaked its way up to his tie, playing with it. Spencer watched this action, and the sudden realization of how you were feeling crept up on his mind. You weren't the one for punishments, you believed sex should be something that is for praising the other... not punishing. However, the mere thought of you punishing Spencer made both of you weak in the knees.

"i want to believe you, Spence..." You spoke your voice slightly over a whisper. Your hands are still rubbing the soft fabric of his tie between your fingers, flicking your eyes back up to his. "But I can't when you're using that mouth to make excuses...."

You smile up at him innocently, as if you weren't teasing him. Spencer gulped down a whimper, your voice almost having him bust in his pants all ready. You yanked him down to your level by his tie, tugging on it roughly as you forced him to make eye contact with you. You took your free hand to push his hair back from his face, watching his tie rub roughly against his neck. You took your hand, leaving light touches all over his face... tracing every bump, every mole, every scar across his face. You thought he was the most beautiful man you'd ever seen, but so did Lila.

"What can I do..." He started, pausing his sentence as he basked in your soft touches. "to uh... to make you believe me?"

You let out a chuckle, your finger pulling down his lip and then letting it bounce back up. You bit your lip, trying to keep your dominant persona up, but something about the way he was so desperate to please you... the fire burned hotter deep within you.

"I can't tell you... guess you just have to know." You stated. You wanted to keep him on edge, make him more desperate than he already was.

Spencer moaned softly as your grip on his tie tightened, his air getting restricted now but he felt... oddly good. You two were new to having sex at this point, Spencer had just given his virginity to you not even 2 months ago. Yet you both have had sex so often that you both knew each other's bodies inside and out already. He didn't know what he liked or what he wanted, all he knew was he wanted you and only you for the rest of his existence. Spencer couldn't help himself anymore, he smashed his lips into yours. The kiss was full of desperation, his hands making their way into your hair, sometimes pulling but mostly he used it to keep you in place.

It was messy and very sloppy, it was like a normal makeout session for you. Spencer couldn't help himself but to be messy with you, he wanted so much of you that it made him claw at your skin. You didn't mind it, you let him explore your mouth with only his tongue because you fed on his desperation. Your hands made it up to his cheeks, pressing his mouth even closer to you. Your teeth clashed with his, tongues fighting with each other, squirming against each other. You both could have stayed like this for hours, probably coming undone just by kissing but you wanted more.

"Spencer..." You moaned out, pulling him away from you slightly. You looked up at him, the desperation in his eyes to keep going. His lips were kiss-bitten, his cheeks red and his eyes wet. He whimpered at the loss of your lips, breathing heavily as you examined his face. "Take off your clothes and get on the bed."

Your voice was demanding, causing Spencer to jump to what you wanted him to do. You watched him eagerly take off his shirt, his tie getting stuck and frustrating him. Then he worked his way down to his pants, taking off his shoes while he was at it. He left his boxers on, knowing that you would soon take them off anyway. He sat on the bed, waiting patiently for you, feeling your eyes bore into his skin. Spencer had a strange build, skinny and lanky but his muscles were defined. You would basically drool every time you saw it, the first time you ever saw him naked you swear you came just by the view.

"Good boy..." You said, walking over to him as he sat on the edge of the bed. You set yourself on his lap, straddling him as you watched his face turn redder than it already had been. "I have been so good to you haven't I Spencer?"

You sat down on his lap, feeling his cock rock hard against the inside of your thigh. You moved his hair from his face, his hair still reeked of chlorine which created another wave of deep jealousy. Spencer nodded rapidly, his words getting stuck into his throat as you watched his face for an answer. You grinned softly, nodding with him as he let out a little hum.

"Yeah..." You started, feeling his body shake with anticipation. You leaned down, leaving soft kisses along his cheeks as you ground down softly on him. "I let you cum when you want to, let you cum inside me, I suck your dick whenever and wherever I put up with your begging and call you a good boy..."

Spencer moans softly at your words, his hands making their way to your hips as he tries to grind you down harder on his cock. His senses are already being clouded with complete lust, his need to cum is at a peak already. You chuckle down at him, his pathetic moans already filling the room and you have not even started. You trail your kisses to his mouth, forcing the kiss to be softer this time but his lips want more.

"I mean even when I should have slammed the door in your face..." You snap your hips down harshly, watching him moan out loudly. "Here I am, still calling you a good boy."

Although Spencer's moans create a softness inside of you, wanting nothing more than to let him come undone as you praise him, the deep jealousy that has been lingering in the room is creating something inhumane inside of you. You wanted to make him cry, wanted to crave insults into his skin, wanted to push him to the brink, and then take it all away from him. It's how he made you feel, seeing him in that pool with someone like Lila. even if he didn't even mean to. You knew Spencer didn't want Lila to kiss him, part of you knew that and you wanted to slap her for even putting Spencer into that position. However, you could use this anger and jealousy in a good way, a punishment that would leave Spencer feeling like he went to heaven and back.

"y/n... god..." Spencer moaned out, grinding his hips up to meet yours. You grinned softly, moving your hand from his cheek down to his neck.

His neck was already slightly red from his tie, the soft bruise already peeking through. It looked down pretty on his skin, he looked so pretty broken down. You wrapped your hand softly around his neck, setting one last kiss to his lips before you slammed him down on the bed. He gasped softly, breathing heavily as your actions scared him. He was flat on his back now, looking up at you as you straddled his hips. You could feel him throb against your thigh, his cock wanting to free him.

You took the hand wrapped around his neck, trailing it down his chest, down his belly, down his happy trail, pulling his underwear down so only his cock could spring free. You tsked softly, looking down at him as he squirmed. His cock was flush red, dripping precum as it screamed to be touched. It never failed to amaze you just how flustered and hard you could make Dr. Spencer Reid, the genius, the boy wonder.... pretty boy. You weren't exactly what you would assume his type would be, not that you weren't attractive but completely different from Spencer Reid.

You two were like night and day, favoring different things yet being made for each other. Sometimes you would get insecure about it, especially when you two were very public about your relationship. How could someone who knew exactly what they were doing be with someone like you? You thought, sometimes it kept you up at night. How someone like Spencer could be with you, how he could look at you and see only beauty. It freaked you out to say the least and maybe that's why the two of you were in the position in the first place, your insecurities getting the best of you.

"So needy already... I've barely touched you." You tease, biting your lip at the sight of him.

You set your hand on his cock, leaving feather-light touches to it as he squirmed more. You gripped it lazily, moving your hand up and down his cock. Your free hand began unbuttoning your dress pants, zipping them down, and yanking them off your body. You teased Spencer about being the eager one, but you couldn't handle much more of him not being inside you. Spencer threw his head back as you continued to stroke his cock at a slow pace, his eyes shut tight as he was already on the verge of cumming.

"That feel good honey?" You asked him, sure that he wasn't going to be able to answer you. "feels so warm... so wet..." You teased, drawing out your words to push his buttons even more.

You leaned down, hand still pumping his cock as you started leaving soft kissing along his neck, something you knew he loved dearly. Your hand movements were sloppy now, encouraging him to grind his hips into your hand. His thrusts were sporadic, no real rhythm as he was so clouded with the thought of cumming in your hand.

"Feel so... feel so good..." He moaned out, his mind not allowing him to think of a coherent sentence.

That was all you needed to know that he was close, that in the next seconds, he was going to make a mess out of your hand. You pumped him a few more times, watching as his body shook slightly. But then as his orgasm almost washed over him... you pulled your hand away. He whimpered softly, eyes filling with tears as his overstimulated and teased cock throbbed. Spencer had never felt this pathetic, just like you said, you let Spencer cum whenever he wanted to. So you helping him to the edge just to take it away in mere seconds, made this boy into a whiny mess. He would even go as far as to say you spoiled him, always allowing him to make his messes anywhere and everywhere.

"What... why.." He stuttered, not sure what to say but he felt he had been robbed of a mindblowing orgasm. His pouting made you smile, seeing how worked up and ashamed he had become.

"Awe, I'm so sorry baby..." You teased, kissing his neck softly as he desperately tried to feel for your lips with his. "But only good boys get to cum..."

Spencer bucked his hips up into nothing, his stolen orgasm making his stomach ache. Spencer would do anything, anything... just for you to let him cum. He would beg and plead for it, he would murder for it. The mere thought of Spencer willing to do anything just for your hand, sent your body into overdrive, the power rush taking over your own senses until it felt you could only be satisfied by seeing Spencer cry. Spencer huffed and puffed roughly as you continued to lay your kisses on his neck, knowing how weak it made him. His breathing was irregular and it felt as though with every struggling breath, his air was being stolen from him.

"Fuck... please..." He whimpered out, his hands reaching up to your hips once more trying to grind your body against the aching cock. "I'm sorry okay... fuck... I'm so sorry, I'll do anything... I'll be such a good boy for you, just please... fuck please Mommy!"

The word stumped you and took you completely off guard. Spencer was very new to sex and you were new to sex with him, but Mommy?!? You would've never guessed Spencer Reid would have a mommy kink, you should've known simply because it was clear. Spencer Reid has mommy issues, so seeing you as dominant during sex was basically a given, you're a profiler for god sake. You stopped your soft kisses on his neck, bringing your head up to see his horrified reaction to his words.

He was taken aback as well, those words feeling so wrong coming out of his mouth but yet so arousing to him. He always felt the need to hold back the word when you guys had sex, out of fear and him being ashamed. He knew he was safe with you, but something about a grown man calling his lover mommy felt inappropriate to him. It might be his denial or him being sexually insecure, but it just felt weird to him so the only word on his tongue at that moment was "sorry". little did he know though, the word slipping from his mouth did wonders on you. Your face heated up, your cunt wetter than ever, and your urge to cum at a peak.

"I'm so sorry... that was really weird, I'm so..." He started but was rudely interrupted by a very annoyed you.

"Spencer... it's fine, you worry too much." You giggled, trying to reassure him that you were more than okay with his surprising kink. You leaned down once more, pecking his lips with yours to hopefully put him at ease. He eagerly kissed you back, once again pulling you into a sloppy kiss. "How about you show Mommy what you can do with that mouth huh?" You said in between kisses.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, the possibility of how this night would end filling his brain. The shame he felt now was turning into something else, something enjoyable as you teased him about it. He nodded his head, agreeing to whatever you wanted him to do. You smirked, pulling your panties to the side and climbing up his body. Spencer wasn't sure what you were doing, never having been in this position before but his confusion was taken over by pure hunger when being face to face with your cunt.

"If it gets too much or you want to stop, tell me, okay honey?" You stated, looking down at him, his face already slick with your juices. He nodded, looking up at you with eyes that begged you to sit on his face.

You nodded back, getting yourself comfortable before lowering yourself down onto Spencer's face. He knew what to do almost immediately, licking your clit and nuzzling his nose straight into your cunt. Like everything Spencer when it came to sex, it was sloppy and eager. There was no real pace, just Spencer going crazy on your cunt. You couldn't help but rock your hips back and forth slightly, completely forgetting how good Spencer's tongue felt.

Spencer eating you out was no new thing, it happened quite often. He preferred when you two would use your tongues and fingers to pleasure each other. It felt more intimate to him and if he was being completely honest, he felt he was better with them than he was with his dick. He felt he had more control over you when he used his tongue, not to mention when you would touch him he would quite literally forget everything especially how to move his body. So eating you out made him feel more in control and in a career where he was always fighting for control, it was a nice change. Although this position you were in now, sitting on his face, was foreign to him, but he liked it.

You were starting to feel that coil inside you tighten, the sign that you were about to cum all over his face. You gripped the sheets, now moving your hips roughly to the movements of his tongue. Spencer had started sucking softly on your clit before teasing your opening with his tongue, he couldn't pick which he wanted to do so he tried to do both. For a minute there Spencer forgot he even had hands, his mind only on lapping at your cunt and tasting your juices flowing down his tongue.

"Spencer... fuck..." You moaned out, throwing your head back as you tried your best to stay upright. "remember your hands..." You directed him.

Spencer mentally scolded himself for that, knowing that in the past you scolded him for not using his hands. Spencer couldn't help it though, he wanted to taste all of you and his hands were the last thing he was worried about. Spencer brought one of his hands up to meet your cunt, digging his fingers into you. The feeling of his fingers exploring inside you had you grabbing at his hair, holding his face in place as you bucked your hips onto his fingers. Your movements only egged Spencer on, his fingers curling up to feel for your g-stop and his mouth latching onto your clit.

You were now the one who was a whimpering mess, curses fell from your lips and your hips forced themselves down onto Spencer. You were close, feeling that the coil became more tight as your back arched. Your thighs began to shake, your vision blurry as Spencer finally found your g-spot. It only took him only 3 curls of his fingers before that coil snapped.

"FUCK!" You screamed out, not surprised if the hotel heard you.

Spencer licked and pumped you through your orgasm, something you taught him how to do. You can remember the first time he had ever eaten you out, as soon as your cunt oozed out your juices... Spencer got scared that he had done something wrong, completely stopping his movements and cutting your orgasm short. You taught him that it was a good sign and what he should do while it was happening. You were proud to say that you taught Spencer right, you were the one who taught him how to please a woman... Can Lila say the same?

You hunched over on top of Spencer, shaking slightly as you recovered from your orgasm. Spencer slid his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth as he licked them clean. You watched as he did, the sight alone creating a new wave of horniness over your body. He wanted every little speck of you, wanting to taste everything you had and he would gladly enjoy it. You shifted yourself down Spencer's body, once again straddling his hips.

"Was I a good mommy?" He asked innocently, his voice almost a whimper. He looked innocent as ever, even with his face soaked with your cum, he just looked so heavenly. You placed your hand on his cheek, wiping off the mess you had created.

"So good my love..." You whispered, watching his face turn a bright red once more. The words "my love" echoing in his ears, making his cock throb more. "How about mommy take care of you now huh?"

Your words rushed straight to Spencer's cock, forcing himself not to cum just from your words. Spencer nodded, breathing heavily as you pecked his lips with yours. You could taste your own cum on his lips along with spencers cherry chapstick that he always seems to be wearing. You let Spencer explore your mouth once more, taking what he needed from you as you once again wrapped your hand around his cock and lined it up with yourself. Spencer bucked up to meet your hips, being the greedy little bastard he was and wanting to thrust himself into you. You chuckled at his neediness but gave into his wishes, slowly setting yourself down onto him.

"Fuc..." Spencer whined out, throwing his head back in bliss.

You didn't know what happened at first, thinking that maybe Spencer was just that excited to be inside you once again. Then you felt it, his hot cum coating your walls already. You hadn't even put him all inside you and he had already come. Spencer's face contorted into pure pleasure, nails digging into your hips as he drenched your insides with cum. He was too in the clouds to realize what he had just done, it hit him too suddenly and way too hard for him to think. but eventually, he came down and sudden embarrassment ran cold through his body.

"Shit... I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just h..." He started, rapidly trying to apologize for cumming so early even if it wasn't under his control. His apologies got cut off by you fully sitting down on his cock, his cock now nestled deep inside of you.

Spencer once again through his head back, his words fading into whimpers and whining. You smiled at his reaction, your cunt feeling his dick get hard once more. Spencer never knew that he would be in this position tonight or really ever. He never knew in a hundred years he would be deep inside his coworker, a babbling mess underneath her, and basically prematurely ejaculate inside of her. but somehow this is where Spencer feels he wants to be, maybe not the cumming so soon part but being underneath you.

"No need to apologize Spence..." You moan out, shifting your hips slightly. You bring your hands up to your shirt and slowly work your way down the buttons. "You deserved to cum in mommy, you did so good with your mouth."

You yank your shirt off, revealing your black lacy bra Spencer had bought you days before. Spencer's breath hitched, his memory of buying that in the first place coming back. He was at the store, buying whatever he needed for that night when he accidentally stumbled into the women's undergarments section. He attempted to cover his eyes, but for some reason, they kept landing on the black lacy bra you had right now. It was embarrassing for him to be buying it, going to the checkout, and praying the cashier didn't even think twice about it, it didn't help that the image of you in it had him rock hard.

You bucked your hips softly, feeling every single inch of Spencer nuzzling inside of you. You watched his eyes, seeing how they planted on your boobs. You chuckled softly, reaching your hands to him that were sitting on your hips and bringing them up. You placed his hands on your breast, knowing that Spencer would be too shy to do it himself. You held his hands there, feeling his hands squeeze them gently as you did.

"I wanna..." You start, being interrupted by a soft moan that escapes your mouth as Spencer starts to thrust his hips up to meet yours. "I wanna make you do it again... i want you to cum in me again..."

That is all Spencer needed to hear, his stomach already creating a tight coil that could break at any moment. Your thrust was starting to pick up, his cock being pulled almost completely out of you before you slammed your hips back down to push him all the way into you. With Spencer's cock deep inside you and his hands squeezing your tits roughly, you felt you had died and went straight to heaven, or was this hell? Because you doubted you could find sex like this in heaven, this was dirty and sinful. The curses dripping from each of your mouths and spencers moans that sounded like something straight of a porno filled the room and most likely the entire floor of the hotel.

You couldn't hold yourself up anymore, hunching over Spencer as your hips continued to thrust roughly. Spencer moved his hands back to your hips for the hundredth time tonight, helping you thrust his cock inside of you. You were both overstimulated, your clit sending shocks of electricity through your body every time it made contact with Spencer's lower stomach. The coil inside you threatened to burst, frustration filled you as you tried desperately to bust it open and make more of a mess than it already had been. You reached down in between your legs, rubbing the small bud and sending lightning through your body.

"Fuck... gonna cum...gonna cum on your cock..." You moaned out, stuttering every time Spencer's cock filled you up.

Spencer took that as a sign to thrust harder back into you, moving his hips up and forcing your hips down. You were on the edge, every single inch of your body on fire as you fucked yourself onto Spencer. and with one single hard, deep thrust from Spencer... the coil in you snapped once again. You shoved your face into the sheet next to Spencer's head, screaming into them as you came all over Spencer's cock. You felt this feeling couldn't get any better until you felt Spencer's hot cum flow through you once again.

You were too in your own world to even hear Spencer's loud scream/moan he did as he came deep inside you, you both being thrown out of your own bodies as you came. Your juices flow together to make one big mess out of the sheets, something that will be embarrassing for the housekeepers to clean in the morning. You both laid there for a minute, basking in each other's warmth and feeling spencers cum seep out of your cunt.

It was strange to you, how you would much rather Spencer's cum dripping out of you than... well anything in life. You weren't exactly the most sex-driven person, but at this moment you knew why some people were. Spencer somehow got into your head, planting himself into it and keeping it hostage. With that being said, you couldn't stay mad at Spencer, you honestly completely forgot why you had been pushing him in the first place. The name Lila is so far away from your thoughts, that you don't actually care anymore.

You slid Spencer out of you with a wince, flopping down next to him as he came down from his high. You shifted to your side so you could watch his pretty face, his eyes fluttering open, his mouth trying to steal whatever air he could get... He looked blissful. You felt oddly proud about it, knowing that you were the one to do that. However, through the pride, you felt a deep guilt. Spencer was the kindest boy you have ever met, he chose you to give his heart to. Yet you were upset with him because he kissed another girl? No, he didn't kiss her... she kissed him. You felt petty now, the regret of ever questioning Spencer's loyalty mended into your brain.

"I'm not mad at you, you know?" You're tired, worn-out voice making it sound like a whisper. Spencer sighed softly, clear that he had forgotten as well and now he's remembered it all again. "It's just...seeing her with you, it just brought me back to high school you know? It made me feel how I did when fucking Rachel Clark tongue fucked my prom date..." You let out a soft sigh, playing with Spencer's hair as you talked.

"You know it's normal to feel that way, especially when you had a similar experience," Spencer explains, going on another one of his Reid rants. "And well, anyone would feel like that whether you had a similar experience with it or not. I know I would." Spencer's eyes wandered to the ceiling, closing his eyes due to utter exhaustion.

You couldn't imagine Spencer Reid ever getting jealous, he was always so calm about everything. You wondered what it would look like. Would he pin you to the bed and fuck the shit out of you like you did him or would he just not know how to deal with those emotions. You honestly wouldn't want to put him into a situation where he would feel that, you couldn't do that to little Spencer. He was innocent, as if the world had not touched him yet even if he does look at the dark underbelly of humans every single day.

"Yeah... well you won't ever have to worry about that my love." You said softly, cuddling yourself further into his side as you closed your eyes as well. "You're stuck with me..."

Spencer chuckled softly, at complete peace that he was stuck with you. If you were the person he was stuck with for the rest of his life, he would die a happy man. You two didn't even bother wrapping up in the blankets, you just needed each other's warmth as you lulled each other to sleep. The presence of jealousy and anger nowhere to be seen, maybe y'all didn't talk it out tonight but you sure did fuck and made up. You wouldn't have it any other way. 

[tears0fsatan]

                ♰          ・        𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇!

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... dead dove do not eat, gn!reader, spoilers for lesson 35 whoops, brief stalking mention, scent kink, established relationship, obsession, body horror, unhealthy attachment to a corpse

 :¨·.·¨ ♥︎  a.n... I'M FINALLY WRITING SOMETJIMG FOR MY NUMBER ONE BABYGIRL CAN I GET A WAHOOO??!???!! BONUS BECAUSE SHES WEIRD!! AND A LITTLE UNSETTLING!!! (this turned out sadder and more romantic than i thought lol oops) srry that this is so latebtw i've been doing uh teenager stuff lol <3

 #﹏𖣠ㅤHEART SHAPED HICKIES MASTERLISTㅤ. . . ㅤ !! ( ☠️ )

from the very moment she had caught a whiff of your scent in her lair, thirteen was hooked. it didn't take a genius or a powerful existence to sniff out the stench of other living beings that had trespassed her den. amongst the familiar smell of demons and that pesky sorcerer, yours had stuck out like a sore thumb, so much so that all thoughts regarding your illegal trespassing flew out her mind.

perhaps it was because she was a reaper, but she could practically taste the life that seeped into your scent. for someone who was neither dead nor alive, hell was it addictive.

she just had to seek you out, there was no way someone brimming with so much life could escape her grasp now that she had her sights on you. whenever she wasn't busy watching the life candles or coming up with new fun trap ideas, she couldn't resist the temptation to follow and watch your every move. after all, when would another human who smelt so good and wasn't a sham of a sorcerer come down to devildom and pique her interest like you did? she needed to have you, needed to trap you somewhere where only she could see you, where only she could be with you.

there were nights she found herself craving you and your scent, despite her plan still in the works. there moments where the thought of leaving all her work behind, to sneak in your room and take you away with her and live out the rest of your lives together (or more so, your life..). an itch to steal the clothing she saw you wore often made her feel restless, but she was nothing if not patient and told herself she'd wait until she was closer to you.

eventually, the two of you were bound to run into one another at RAD, but that moment didn't come nearly soon enough. so, the reaper took matters into her own hands. she waited for the moment you weren't surrounded by those clingy demons to make her move, making it seem as though it was completely coincidental and not carefully thought out on her part. gosh, you were so much cuter in person, she had fantasised the moment she could finally talk to you dozens of times and you went beyond all her expectations.

this was perfect; without realising, you were slowly playing into her trap. the reaper made sure to play up a facade, one that would keep you curious about her and have you coming back to find out more. she played the role of a trickster until you tied the strings of your heart around her marionette controller all on your own accord, swept away by the sweet words and barrage of attention from such a pretty, powerful being. she had you in the palm of her hand and you were more than alright with it.

there was an ornate fear that constricted thirteens heart, or at least a reaper's equivalent of one, something she feared for more than anything else in all three realms. as a reaper, she was far too aware of how short human lifespans were and how much shorter it would be around her and it terrified her. now that she had you in her grasp, she couldn't afford to lose you. there were unspoken lengths she was willing to go in order to keep you next to her, even if it meant breaking the laws of the three realms.

while humans were satisfied with a life together until death parted them, for a reaper, even death wouldn't be enough to part ways. being surrounded by death, the very being that watched over every human from the second their flame lit to the moment their light blew out, it was hard to form an attachment when such lives were fickle and could go out at any given moment. thirteen knew that, she knew that one gust of wind could easily put an end to you and everything you had lived for and so she wanted to cherish what short time she had left with you.

the day you died, many souls died with you. the reaper lost all control and threw a rage, at the other living beings who wouldn't understand her pain and at the world for making her kind so detrimental to human life. it was unfair, unfair how you had just started out your life and now you were gone, unable to spend many more of your firsts with thirteen. she didn't even have the chance to show you just how much she loved you.

not a day went by where thirteen didn't take care of your body, washing your body with extra care and dressing you in your favourite clothes, keeping your appearance the same as it was the day you died. even as your flesh began to turn all sorts of hues, she still thought you looked as beautiful as the day she lost you.

your body, now lifeless and cold, a mere shell of the human you once were, could no longer support the weight of your head and slumped forward onto thirteen's shoulder whenever she would pick you up. the reaper held onto every inch of your being left, afraid that if she let even a hair shed, your entire existence would cease to exist, as if you had never been here in the first place.

your eyes were always something she adored, something that left her speechless and the first time she got to see them up close and in person, she was left in awe. by now, she's stared at you long enough to determine that yes, stars do swim in your eyes, and never missed the opportunity to go stargazing. even after your eyes became blurry after your death, they never lost that sparkle that she fell in love with in the first place.

how could she resist pulling you into her arms and dance along to inaudible music when you looked so beautiful? even though your skin was icy to the touch and your joints refused to move from the rigor mortis, she still enjoyed holding you close and swaying to an unknown rhythm. especially on nights when the moonlight would peer into her lair and cast a shadow on your features that just ever so slightly make you appear alive, she would dance until the sun took the moons place and brought her back to reality.

nevertheless, until the moment she reaped her last soul, she would continue to love you and keep you by her side, no matter the cost.

© 2023 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t translate, modify, repost or plagiarise my works anywhere.

[sunsetwaltz]

[Rough Thoughts on Finale - General Spoilers]

FIN at around 110h. (Minus an hour or two spent in photo mode or leaving the game idle lol)

And I'm STILL missing 2 achievements 😩 At least only one of them requires more exploration.

Warning: Mainly negative impressions below.

More than anything, I think I'm relieved the game's finally over for me. Unfortunately I stumbled on a number spoilers on the way (my fault tbh), so things didn't hit as hard as they could've. It's fine; I just wish the music had been more intense and emotionally stirring. The scenes could've really used that extra oomph - the voice acting and visuals alone weren't enough imo. It's a bit sad when the "best" part of the music was the recognisable DAI tracks.

Although the final fight(s) and ending were more definitive than the Inquisition's (base game) finale, I felt kind of...idk ambivalent as I watched the last scenes roll? Like "That's it? Hmm. I see." I couldn't muster the joy or celebratory mood or even bittersweet feelings I'd expected to come with closing a nearly decade-long chapter.

Honestly it felt a little surreal. My whole playthrough had been laced with an undercurrent of (unsurprising) disappointment and "it could've / should've been like this" thoughts, so maybe I should thank my stars the ending didn't bring any more disappointment.

Part of me can't help but remember the emotional reactions I had after finishing DA2, DAI / Trespasser, ME3 or even other games like FFXIV (incl DT). Now those games had elicited strong emotions. They had higher highs and lower emotional lows; any disappointment I had with those games was felt more keenly because the journey had been full of surprises and many joys. Whereas with DA:V, my journey has mainly been like a steady line? There were things I liked in DA:V and everything else was lacklustre tbh. It was missing the emotional rollercoaster and adventure I'd craved from Thedas :/

Don't get me wrong I did enjoy playing DA:V - I wouldn't have continued otherwise. But would I recommend this game at full price? No. I don't regret playing it but I can't in good conscience suggest someone else do so when at its core DA:V is missing the essential "DA" ingredients - compelling nuanced writing, world building and party characters.

DA:V may borrow names from the DA world of Thedas but it doesn't feel like Thedas - these names feel little more than set dressing or props. Like many have expounded before me, by "playing it safe" with the writing the devs stripped away the immersive things players loved about DA. Too many times did DA:V's script feel too superficial, too casually modern and too insincere(?) in regards to the previous games' established worldbuilding. Quantity over quality, new player experience and cinematics over roleplaying seemed like BW / EA's main priorities. Y'know instead of the DA fans who have been waiting ages for this game after being left on a major cliffhanger. Everything elf-related (incl. the veil jumper Rook experience) felt like a "token effort" at best; I can't imagine how much worse it'd be to play as a qunari or LoF.

I could go into the specifics of what I liked vs. disliked and properly discuss the major story beats (or even Act 3 alone), but I'll stop now. Time to head to bed and maybe later I can think about watching the game's other possible endings(?), romances, etc. It'll be interesting to see the other choices - and if Neve still feels like the game's deuteragonist (or the devs' pet favourite) when she's not y'know "chosen".

TL;DR I'm annoyed some of the appearances / transmog are bugged (i.e. locked despite having completed the requisite quest, etc). I hope they actually fix it and add a golden nug feature too 😔

[bowuigifire]

BURN FOR YOU 🔥💚

SUMMARY: Luigi found himself in a strange alien world, alone and terrified. But perhaps this place isn't so bad?

CHAPTER 4:

Blue eyes widened at the image of the King Koopa, captivated by the way the light of the window was illuminating his scaly body. Powerful. Beautiful. For a moment he forgot how dangerous he could be. Not wanting to call the King's attention, the human continued to watch in fascination Bowser's every movement. There was a subtle grace in the creature, in the way he looks and in the way he moves. However, a look of concern showed openly on his scaly face, his brows furrowed as if he was plagued by constant worries.... Looking straight at Luigi. Ah. He was caught. Face flushing, Luigi moved his gaze to another part of the room, not paying real attention to any of it.

"You're awake," stated the King, his voice softer. Luigi hesitantly turned in the direction of the large koopa, biting his bottom lip nervously. "I thought I told Kamek to heal you completely."

The green plumber coughed weakly before answering. "He did, he did! It's j-just that we humans aren't made to be in such a h-hot place." He must have been delirious because he was talking to the King calmly despite the fact he threw him to the ground not that long ago.

Bowser grunted, taking a mental note to prepare a room in the coldest part of the castle. For Peach, mainly, of course. Green 'Stache can tell him if it's the right temperature, after all.

The silence was stretching, neither of them willing to break it.

It was the king who finally decided to speak, his fiery eyes piercing into his blue ones. "Are all humans like you, then?" Blinking in confusion, Luigi asked for clarification. "You know, with blue eyes and small." The koopa gestured with his hands at his form.

Understanding what he meant, the human contemplated the best way to respond as he looked at his hands. "No, we are all different. Blue, green, grey, brown eyes. Lighter or darker skin, blonde, redheads, black-haired... We are all different, although we do have our similarities. I'm considered quite tall, actually! I'm afraid we don't get as big as you, though." He laughed lightly, pausing for a second before hastily adding, "Your Highness."

The answer did not seem to satisfy the king as he brought his paw close to the brunet, touching his mustache with surprising carefulness. "You're a male, right?" Swallowing, Luigi starred into the King's eyes, nodding slowly, mindful of the King's claws.

"I know of a few humans." His thoughtful gaze lost somewhere else. "They can be quite... charming. Tell me, did you come here alone?"

"N-no." The plumber stuttered. "I was with my brother, Mario. We look very similar but he's shorter and likes to wear red."

"Mmm." Letting go of his mustache, Bowser continued his inspection, running his claws through the man's brown hair, careful not to cut the human. "And are all of you this fragile?"

"I suppose we are." Luigi whispered, not looking away from the King's scorching red eyes which had glued to his own. "What about you...?"

Pulling his hand away from his soft curls, Bowser took his time to answer. The human didn't seem to know anything about who he was nor where they were. The brothers must be from far away not to have heard of him and his Kingdom.

"Our race is called Koopas as Kamek probably has already mentioned. You are currently in the Koopa Kingdom, and I'm the King. King Bowser. At your service," He jokingly ended his short explanation with a mocking bow that got Luigi flustered.

"Oh, uh, ummm." The green plumber stumbled over his words, trying to find something else to ask. Then, prompting a gasp from him, he thought how odd it was that he didn't feel any pain in his feet when he walked. He was certain he... "Why did you heal me?"

"Why wouldn't we heal you?" he questioned, perplexed at the idea.

"Well, y-you said I trespassed, right? Then I don't deserve to be healed." Luigi tried to explain, playing with his fingers.

"Don't be ridiculous, you were in no conditions to walk, or even talk. You were barely conscious. How else were we going to get answers?"

Having a hard time believing it, the plumber clutched the blanket in his shaking hands. Then, the brunet snapped his mouth shut when he realised it made sense. And yet... "I'm still a prisoner, am I not?"

Eyes wide in surprise, all Bowser could utter was a faint yes. Although, what he said next gave him hope. "Unless you explain to me why and how you came here." The koopa nodded at the human to go on, his arms crossed on his chest.

"In was an accident!" Exclaimed Luigi in desperation, looking anxiously at the King with his big pleading blue eyes. "We were in Brooklyn, me and my brother. We are plumbers, and we were trying to fix a citywide plumbing issue when we were... suck through a green pipe? I don't know, we got separated and I ended up here, in your lands. Please, believe me?" Pleaded Greenie, eyes shining with unshed tears.

It was hard not to when the human was looking at him like that, and so Bowser accepted his answer with a firm nod, his stance relaxing significantly. Luigi let the tears fall, relief flooding through his body too strong to control, and thanked Bowser over and over again.

-

Junior heard of an intruder. He also heard from Kamek that someone was staying in one of the guest rooms, which made his curiosity shine brighter. Hiding from the old magikoopa as best as he could, Junior moved from one place to another, slowly approaching the room where the supposed intruder was staying. Someone like that wouldn't normally be here so the tiny koopa really wanted to know who it was and why there was so much secrecy around it. Maybe it's mama!

Positioning himself inside the dark doorway, the young koopa heard sounds that sounded a lot like crying. Whoever it is, it's very sad or in a lot of pain. That made Junior feel a little bad for the prisoner and he wanted to go inside and cheer them up, but he heard his father's voice.

"No need to thank me. So, what's your name? I can't exactly call you prisoner all the time" His father chuckled, surprising Junior with how sincere it sounded. Dad must really like the intruder!

"Luigi, King Bowser. My name's Luigi." Came the stranger's soft reply. Luiiigii. Weegee, the prince decided with a determined nod.

"Luigi. Nice to meet you properly." There was a pause, "You'll be staying here as a guest until we find your brother."

"Do you... Do you know w-where he could be?" Asked the other voice. Junior thought it sounded funny, completely different from anyone else he knows.

"I might have an idea." Was his father's cut reply. "He must be in the Mushroom Kingdom, with Princess Peach."

"Princess Peach?" Junior heard footsteps approaching where he was. Hastily, he moved away from the door and locked himself in another guest room. This one was in the dark and less cared for according to the dust that the young prince noticed.

With his paw over his mouth to still his breathing, the young koopa listened to Kamek talking to his father.

"What do you mean you can't find him!?" Roared Bowser, clearly displeased with the news.

"M-my apologies, sire. I got distracted for just a second, I thought he was drawing in his room!" The older koopa sounded agitated, a pang of guilt shooting into Junior's chest.

"Ugh. I have to do everything here! Stay with Luigi, Kamek, and this time don't get distracted." There was a moment of silence before he heard his father again. "And check his temperature." His footsteps started to move closer to where Junior was hiding. His father could always find him.

[sevenmothz]

Finally finished The Veilguard! Probably would have gotten it done earlier, but with how things went with the election, safe to say I lost some drive to keep playing for a little bit haha.

Overall thoughts, good and bad, beneath the cut. Spoilers ahead if you haven't finished the game yet.

The Good:

Combat: Super fun! I might be tempted to try this game on higher difficulties. I never felt like I was getting bogged down by random fights like I have in past Dragon Age games (Origins is probably the worst offender of the four games, but Inquisition is up there too). Playing a mage was fantastic and I'm so glad they finally aren't just standing around waving their staffs around lmao.

Lore: DWARF LOOOORRRREEEE!!!! That's probably the part I got most hype about haha. Also thoroughly enjoyed playing a Watcher and learning more about the Necropolis through Rook and Emmrich. I don't think any of the other factions can top the Mourn Watch for me, tbh. The elf shit was engaging enough to continue on with the story, but I'm not a big Solas girly and the elven history of Dragon Age has never been something I've been super invested in. Definitely side-eyeing the little tidbit we got from finishing Taash's personal quests though! If Dragon Age survives to see another game, I'm super into finding out more about qunari and their origins.

Characters: Really enjoyed the companions and their stories overall, and I'm glad they involved so many one-on-one quests with (some) of them. Also really loved meeting so many characters I've seen in the books and comics over the years. Getting to take screenshots of my Inquisitor in a new graphic style was also a plus.

Art: I know a lot of people really dislike the style the game is in--hell, I was iffy on it too when all I had was to watch the promotional videos--but as soon as I started the game myself, I really loved it! I don't know if they updated some things since dropping promo videos or what, but it just looks so much better in person on my gaming system. I hope they'll take a similar stylistic approach for any future Dragon Age games they maybe might do since I'm pretty burnt out on hyper-realistic looking games.

Maps: Blessedly linear, but expansive enough to feel good with revisiting areas to check out spots that were blocked previously. It made me think a lot of God of War's reboot games as well as the Jedi games, which I also really enjoyed playing. Inquisition had vast wastelands with practically nothing but enemies populating their maps and it just made me want to get from point A to B as fast as possible. While I overused the fast travel in this first playthrough since I wanted to get through the whole story, I'll definitely be using them less in future playthroughs so I can enjoy not only banter, but also what NPCs are saying throughout the areas.

Armors: Ooooh gorl so many armors I liked in the game! For most of the game my Rook was wearing that white/purple get-up with the big cap and UNF! Loved it. Switched off to a rogue-looking armor set in the Shadow Dragon colors that looked pretty bitching too. That one unique set from the Crows with the golden arms too? AAAHHHH!

Bugs/Tech: Other than characters getting stuck once in a blue moon or Rook being goofy as shit while doing the ol' parkour, I didn't really encounter much on the bugginess side of things. Nothing that was noticeable anyway.

Animation: Bioware finally figured it out after all these decades haha. Love it when characters aren't standing around stiffly like dolls being played with or walking around like they got a giant popsicle stick stuck up their asses.

The endgame was pretty epic. So glad all our companions get roles in the final rush like in Origins and 2. Inquisition completely dropped the ball in that regard (both when you're going after Coryface at the end of the main game, as well as Solas in Trespasser).

Emmrich: Best boy. ALSO HE DATES STRIFE IF YOU DON'T ROMANCE HIM FJDKALFDJAL. GET IT, OLD MEN!

Solas: Still a dumb egg man. Wouldn't have him any other way. Glad he's gone lmao.

Dorian: Still serving cunt and outlasted Solas. Stay winning, King Archon.

The Bad:

Varric: What a complete waste of time lmao. I honestly wasn't super hype about him being in another DA game (outside of him serving DILF looks, which WOOF GOTDAMN), and what they wound up doing with his character was dumb as shit. It was the Hawke vs Warden decision all over again from Inquisition where the story is Telling me to give a shit about these characters, but not Showing me a reason for my Inquisitor to care much about who they pick to stay in the Fade. If we'd gotten to see Rook adventure with Varric more at the beginning of the game, this whole mentor dying routine would have hit harder. Writers shat the bed and rolled in it.

Romance: So I'm going to have to look up a video online of how the other romances play out, but the Lucanis one was...disappointing. Had a really good start with the almost kiss scene, but then there was no follow up for that. Why doesn't he want to kiss Rook in that moment? Why isn't he physically affectionate with them at all until near endgame?? Meta-wise, I can take a guess, but the point of a story is to...tell it. I've heard Kirby isn't big on writing romances, so...idk, did that have something to do with it? Was it not fully written before she was fired? It straight up feels incomplete! I've heard from looking online that he even keeps flirting with Neve even when you're locked into a romance with him. Like...HUH?

Cont'd: Even outside of romances, it seemed like he just didn't have much more going on outside of his main storyline. Davrin, Bellara, Taash, and Lace all invite you out multiple times for one-on-one time (even get to go to the garden in the Necropolis with Emmrich, which was super cool), but Lucanis just...doesn't have that. Neve also seemed to be lacking a little in that regard too. Is it simply because they have parts of their stories as part of the main questline or what?

Cont'd 2: Also hilarious that if you harden Lucanis, he refuses to get involved with Rook, even a Shadow Dragon one that has reason to save Minrathous over Treviso, but he's happy to get into a relationship with Neve, who was also not there to help at Treviso haha. RIP to y'all that made that mistake on your Lucanis runs.

Music: Forgettable. I think the only track I truly liked was the ambient music for the Hossberg Wetlands (goddamn does that shit set the tone for that area) and maybe some of the boss fight songs. Hans Zimmer and Lorne Balfe, you dun goofed. It's telling when the only times I perked up at the sound of the music was when it was an Inquisition track, which had an absolutely baller line-up of songs. I wish they'd have gotten Inon Zur or Trevor Morris to return for Veilguard. Or, I don't know, poked Zimmer with a cattle prod or something to wake him up, since I know that bitch can make some amazing music (no idea what Balfe is usually capable of).

Animation: When it's good, it's REALLY good, but then you randomly get scenes where the characters are just standing around looking at each other lmao. Like in one of the Lucanis romance-y scenes during their second coffee date, he just stands next to Rook and makes weird faces at them. Like damn dude, clearly someone didn't get paid to animate that day.

Davrin can die what the fuck. I'm guessing it's Lace if you pick her to lead the other group? UGH THE WORST! ASSAN EVEN GOES DOWN WITH HIM??? T A T At least his death felt worthy, unlike fucking Varric getting prison shanked by Solas within the first hour or two of playing.

Y'all really couldn't think of a better way to sell Varric being around and Rook not knowing? Good lawrd, embarrassing. Look what they did to my boy. I'm gonna be a salty bitch about Varric's treatment for years to come. Was really holding out for Inquisition!Varric being a fluke.

While I did like that the companions weren't at each other's throats in dumb ways, yeah, they probably could have used a bit more bite. Or like...have their problems with each other not be solved within one cutscene.

Taash's storyline is probably still my least favorite since the queer side of it is too formulaic and felt clunky now and then. Can see those story beats coming from a mile away. Was honestly more interested in their struggle with their qunari and rivaini backgrounds.

Lace also seemed to suffer a bit with a predictable storyline, but that may be because I'm also like her and struggle to accept needing help and not always being okay and putting on a front to not bother others bahaha.

Can't believe we only got to visit Kal-Sharok once jfdksalfda.

Casual clothes: Would have been nice to have more options. And also just to have them organized a bit better so it's easier to check through what will and will not cause clipping issues and whatnot haha.

Shadow Dragons: Hilarious that a group that's trying to be an underground rebel force all color code their outfits lmao.

The Kal-Sharok armor. GOD! It's so bad!

Can't believe I had to choose between Manfred and Lichdom. Ugh so rude. Hardest choice in the whole game.

Overall:

Even with my complaints, I still had a great time and definitely want to playthrough Veilguard more, and likely will once I've had a break from Dragon Age for a while. I got a fanfiction (not related) to finish writing, podcasts to catch up on, and doll stuff to get to. I also have that playthrough of DA2 to finish as well that I put on pause to get Inquisition done with before Veilguard released.

I do really hope Dragon Age will continue (considering the after-credits scene, it definitely seems like they're interested in continuing the series) since I still absolutely love this world Bioware has created and added to over the years, even if the stories don't always pan out how I'd hoped (sometimes due to EA and Bioware's management being dumb as bricks).

Honestly, me being "meh" about a Dragon Age main quest is pretty normal for me lmao. DA2 was the only game I enjoyed the story for from beginning to end, and I think a lot of that is because it isn't a story about gathering followers to fight against a big bad and save the world, but instead about a group of assholes out for themselves that find a family in each other and are just trying to live out their lives one day at a time.

Considering the after-credits scene, I imagine we won't be getting another story like DA2 anytime soon from Bioware, which is disappointing, but hardly surprising. Most people tend to want the big epics over the more zoomed in stories.

[thehungrypirates]

**WARNING! THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE PACIFIST ROUTE TO UNDERTALE YELLOW! IF YOU INTEND TO PLAY THE GAME OR WANT TO WATCH SOMEONE PLAY IT, BE WARNED!**

Ceroba stumbled slightly into her home. Despite the beauty of the wild eastern architecture, an estate of massive proportions, more than big enough to house an army, it laid bare, slightly in shambles, and completely alone. She slightly let her fingers drag over the painted bamboo, a layer of dust floating through the air. This house felt even more lonely than it normally was. She lost a good friend a couple weeks ago, a human, who would be willing to sacrifice themselves in order to prove that monsterkind and humankind can learn to co-exist. Even if it had been over half a month, she couldn't stop thinking about the generosity, but the feelings of shame as she couldn't find an alternative, using her late husband's work to improve the chances of a monster to cross the barrier, and of course her daughter, who was sick and under the care of the brilliant Doctor Alphys.

She stumbled to her bedroom, a piercing silence to the room except for the creaking footsteps. She slumped on her bed in a depressive stoop, simply laying there for what felt like hours. All the people she had lost in her time. Her husband, Chujin. Her daughter, Kanako. Her friend, Clover. She eventually mustered the strength to pull out the picture of her daughter, an old picture when she was playing with her mother's kitsune mask. She gave a bit of a smile, but turned to a frown quickly. She hopes she will be fine. She may lose her husband and her friend, but her daughter...

...She wouldn't know what to do then.

Martlet knocked on the door of the estate. After her dealing with Clover sacrificing themselves for the barrier, she decided to quit her job in the royal guard in order to have a more peaceful life as a delivery bird. "Hello? Mrs. Ceroba? Your delivery of corn is here!" Martlet said, noticing the door was slightly opened. She looked around the premises to make sure nobody would notice her trespassing before she peeked in, carrying the bag of corn with her. She was enthralled by the beauty of the house since her first visit, and she partially wanted to experience the home again in lighter tones. "Oh yeah! Gotta take off my shoes to not track mud..." She whispered to herself, pulling off her yellow boots to replace with the "guest sandals" next to the incline. "Ceroba? Helloooo!?" She muttered, noticing the slight smell of a delicious butterscotch tea. "Oh my... well... I bet she won't mind if I have a bit of a stop... just for a reward!" She said, dropping the bag of corn and going to the kitchen. It was a very nice kitchen, with a bamboo low table, and a kettle on an open fire, obviously brewing some tea. She snuck up towards the kettle and went to grab the kettle before she was stopped by a voice.

"Martlet? What are you doing here?"

Martlet stopped in her tracks. She looked behind her to see Ceroba standing quaintly in the doorway. "You know Martlet, if you wanted to come over, you could have sent a letter." She walked over towards the kettle, pulling out two cups and pouring a drink for both of them. "Nonetheless, I'm glad you've decided to come by. I've got a couple things I wanted to talk about... Mind sitting at the table over there?" Ceroba said, waving at the low table. Martlet nodded slightly and went to sit down as best she could. There were no chairs around the table, something Ceroba says is a tradition from the wild east, "Seiza". Martlet didn't understand how someone could kneel for so long, but she was respectful and waited for the tea to come to her. Ceroba sat next to Martlet after handing her some of the sweet delicious tea, and bowed slightly. "How is your new job, friend?" She asked, letting the tea slightly swirl in her cup. Martlet slowly sipped at her tea, the scolding hot liquid being an acceptable barrier to the taste. "It's been good... how about you...?"

They began talking for well over an hour, Martlet slightly opening up on her experiences with Clover, and Ceroba sharing her insecurities with her. It was a nice catharsis for the both of them, and Martlet started to get a little more comfortably by slipping off her sandals. She enjoyed the breeze through them, as the window was big and open enough to let a cooling draft in, which was a blessing in the hot climate. But then she took notice of Ceroba's sandals. She usually wore long socks with her sandals, but the heat today was too much for that. Her toes slightly flexed into the geta sandals, the tips of her fox nails digging in and puncturing them.

Martlet muttered responses to show she was "listening" to the conversation, but in reality she was focused on her feet. They must have been hot and sweaty today, especially if she was out and about with her new job. Martlet instinctively started scooting towards her, Ceroba simply smiling gullible to the intentions of her good friend. "O-oh, Martlet! I uh... did not expect you to be getting closer, heh..." Ceroba responded, Martlet chuckling back. "Uh... it's... the breeze! It's a little chilly in here! Don't worry about getting up, I feel warmer with you here!" She responded, slightly scootching her foot closer and closer to Ceroba's. She thought that maybe she could use the dexterity of her toes to subtly pull off Ceroba's, perhaps she'll not notice a move like that.

Little did she know, however, that Ceroba was a lot more observant than that.

As soon as Martlet's toe touched Ceroba's, Martlet felt a grab at her waist. In a complete shock, she gasped, as Ceroba gave a despairing look. "Uh... I can explaaAAAII-" Martlet attempted to explain herself, when Ceroba tackled her to the ground, her body over Martlet's with the bright yellow staff now summoned and held down towards Martlet's chest. "What in Asgore's name were you doing!? Why were you doing that with your... your toe!?" Ceroba demanded, not wanting to actually harm her birdbrained feathered friend. Martlet's eyes darted around the room, her own toes curling from the slight stress. "I uh... I was just... adjusting my position! Y-yeah! I was adjusting my position, and I accidentally touched your toe! I am *terribly* sorry!" She responded, Ceroba's eyebrow slightly raising. It didn't make sense to her, especially after she started to snuggle up closer to her. Then she realized the context, realizing that her toe was trying to tug at her sandal, and slightly blushed in response.

"You... Were you trying to take off my sandals? Do you... like... my feet?" Ceroba responded, pausing more with the sudden revelation of what the implications were. Martlet panicked, squirming more than she originally was, her blue feathers now with a tint of red. She couldn't believe that the cat was out of the bag, that her fetish was revealed. Truth be told, she had always had a fascination for the mammal's feet, and only now had the chance to get a closer look. "What!? Me!? No way, Jose! Of course I don't like feet, I mean, like, ew, feet, am I right? That's such a weird thing to-MMPH!?" all of a sudden, the fox went in for a deep kiss to Martlet.

It was a sensual moment, both that was out of surprise. Martlet slightly shifted in shock with the creature overpowering her going in for such a deep kiss, and soon, she let her inhibition go and went in for a kiss as well. Ceroba's pressure onto Martlet waned, allowing Martlet to reach her arms out to grab Ceroba's shoulders to pull in. They simply laid there, kissing, with no buildup, and seemingly no end. Both Ceroba and Martlet eventually stopped, both as red as a tomato after what transpired. "I uh, I should probably get going then! So uh... bye bye!" Martlet tried to hide her embarrassment by escaping the situation, but Ceroba tripped Martlet with the staff and walked over. "I... Well. I didn't think you felt that way towards me. How about me and you take this to my room..." She lifted her foot up slightly and wiggled it in front of Martlet, starting to cover her face. "...Since you seem to be so interested in my sweaty tired feet..."

Ceroba helped Martlet up, leading her towards her bedroom and away from the front door. Martlet's mind was racing with a thousand thoughts. Was she going to be punished for liking her feet? Was she planning to do something more explicit. Would she... be willing to indulge in Martlet's sudden obsession? When they arrived at the bedroom, Ceroba walked towards the comfy looking bed while kicking off her own sandals and sitting on the bed, giving the nervous and visibly embarrassed bird a look between annoyance and saucy. "Well... make yourself comfortable." Ceroba said, the both of them looking at Martlet's sandals. "Oh! O-of course!" she said, slipping her yellow feet out of the sandals and onto the comfortable wood, Martlet shuffling forwards while noticing at Ceroba's sandals.

They were imprinted from years of use, the toes, soles and heels creating a dark imprint in the otherwise fine geta sandals, with a couple punctures near the toes where Ceroba's claws would dig in. She stopped for a moment, simply staring at them for a while. She could imagine the smell, for such used sandals, and the idea of being able to simply sniff them while she had the change were heavenly. She slightly bent down to go and grab at the discarded sandals when she heard Ceroba yell suddenly. "Hey! Eyes over here! My feet require some pampering, and you're the only one around to do it." Ceroba said, extending one of her feet forwards. Martlet realized the request at that moment, and slightly smiled; she was going to get closer to the holy feet, and she was going to love it.

Martlet knelt down to the side of the bed, Ceroba looking down at her with a smirk.

"Massage my feet." Ceroba said, crossing her legs in front of Martlet.

"O-okay!" Martlet responded. This was the moment she was looking forwards to. She had been eying them for so long, and only at this moment was she so close. She gently cradled her foot into her hands, the toes slightly wiggling and adjusting, and started to massage her feet. She wasn't entirely sure how to massage her feet, she never really done anything like this, but she simply started by rubbing them as best she could. "Is this working well?" Martlet asked, looking up at her foxy friend, who seemed to be letting out a relieved sigh. "y-yes... This is good... A little more towards my heels." Ceroba responded, her toes flexing from how much she was enjoying it. Martlet obliged, slowly letting her fingers crawl further down until they reached her heel, leading to a slight moaning yip from Ceroba. "Oh! You *really* like this, huh Ceroba? Hehehe!" Martlet teased, though rubbing her poor tired foot nonetheless.

Ceroba meanwhile was in love with the whole situation. For as long as she's known Martlet, she has caught her taking glimpses of her white boots. While she never really thought too much about her boots, or her feet for any matter, she had a strange sense of curiosity, and after being alone for a couple weeks, she decided to see if Martlet really did want to ogle her feet. She originally didn't have any plans for this, maybe just as slight teasing to Martlet, but she had to admit, the massaging was absolutely calming to her, something her husband had never done, and felt she missed out of. She pushed her other foot towards Martlet, with Martlet obliging to giving that foot a massage. She was in absolute bliss, and she could tell Martlet was just as happy as she was. Yet there was a sudden feeling when Martlet started rubbing her sole in a new way.

She suddenly felt ticklish.

Martlet noticed something immediately when Ceroba's toes suddenly flinched. Martlet looked up at Ceroba, who was covering her mouth with her sleeve, and Martlet suddenly smiled. "Oh! I'm terribly sorry, did I tickle you? What if I did... THIS!?" Martlet said, suddenly waving her feathery fingers over the fox's feet. Ceroba snickered slightly, slightly kicking her other foot at Martlet as her other foot was locked in place. Martlet couldn't believe the situation she was in, tickling her friend's foot, something she had only dreamed of previously. Her feather swished over her trapped foot, trying it's hardest to wriggle, scrunch, and kick, but to no avail. "Aww! Aren't you adorable! Is the big tough serious fox hating this!?" Martlet said, Ceroba giving slightly grumpy yet ticklish grunts. Truth was, she would be willing to stop if Ceroba were to ask her to, but she didn't even speak, only giggled, snickered, and grunted as the bird showed the fox who was boss in that specific situation.

Even after this transgression towards her, Ceroba was enjoying the situation. She was terribly ticklish, and often experienced over the years through footrubs. Though she was use to a bit of teasing, namely from a slightly intoxicated husband, it was the feathers of her birdbrained friend that triumphed over his foxy fingers. They swished quickly over her feet, as if she was scrubbing them with her hands. "N-nah-ah-ah! Sta-ha-hap you foo-hoo-hoolish bird!" She squealed, trying her hardest to hold her snout shut. Granted, she didn't entirely mean it. She was really enjoying the experience with her friend, and Martlet was the only person she'd allow to get this close to her feet. Martlet gave a grin and looked up into Ceroba's eyes. "What are you gonna do about it, huh!? Get tickled some more!?" She teased, cawking with laughter along with Ceroba. "O-ho-hoho shut up!" Ceroba responded, immediately getting her foot out of the overgrown parrot's feathers and shoved it right into her beak, leading to a sudden stop and silence.

Martlet looked up, processing everything that just happened. Ceroba was giving a bit of a look as surprised as what she was feeling. She couldn't feel the other foot in her talons, seemingly have pulled back slowly. And then she processed the foxes toes in her mouth. Ceroba slightly blushed, clearing her throat while trying to seem professional or clear-minded. "I... am terribly sorry for my actions." She said, as Martlet slightly pulling the foot out of her mouth, the toes slightly grasping. Martlet gave a big grin at Ceroba, and slowly lifted her foot towards her beak to put it back in. Ceroba gasped, and then smiled. "Oh, so you like that, huh? Didn't expect you to be so into this... not that I'm complaining."

Martlet wasn't either. She was in fact love with this situation. She almost had to pinch herself in disbelief to check if this was a dream, and she was so happy when she gave a slight muffled yip. She kept on sucking her toes, her tongue exploring every crevice of the soft feet, feet that are normally so well kept in white boots she even wondered if she had feet in the first place, and was now unearthed, taken aback and a reward for the loyal bird. And the taste! She slightly pulled out the foot, and started licking her from heel to sole, Ceroba giving a sigh and laying back on the bed. They tasted quite sweet, like the strange little pies that she makes that she claims is from her homeland. She couldn't believe how amazing this felt. If she had the power to stop or rewind time, it'd be for this specific moment. There was no better way to show it than the fervent worship she was giving her left foot. She was in absolute heaven

Ceroba was equally in love with the situation. In all honesty, she did intend to get Martlet to worship her feet, but when she tried so quickly and suddenly, she thought she made a big mistake, one that might've harmed their relationship in an awkward way. But she was so glad that the bird loved her feet, and she loved the tongue sliding and slipping over her feet. She raised her other foot so Martlet could turn her one foot into two, a plate of delicious foxy feet, all hers for the taking. Ceroba had thoughts race over her mind, as well as the enjoyment of her feet being slurped. Her husband was gone for a while, and she realized at this moment that she was sadly lonely. Perhaps she'd ask her to become a roommate, her house was more than big enough for both her and Martlet, and she could do stuff like this at any time. She even considered the fact that Martlet's talons slightly wiggled tantalizingly, and she wouldn't mind seeing how they felt in her mouth. Who knows? Maybe she'll get to move on and maybe find a new partner. But for now, she simply sat back, enjoying her situation, almost drifting to sleep as Martlet enjoyed tasting her 'dogs'

"Oh Martlet... never stop..."

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

Martlet waved back from outside the manor, Ceroba waving from the doorway. "See ya Ceroba! Maybe I'll see you in a week!" She said, with the fox smiling back. "Maybe. I do need the corn as a base for my pies... until then." She gave a two finger salute and Martlet walked on, checking her pocket watch as she reached a far distance. "Oh shoot! It's been three hours!? I still need to deliver some corn to my buddy Starlo! Oh, I hope I don't get fired from this!" She said, starting to run to the next destination. She was really worried she'd already look bad in her first week. Of course, she couldn't get the wonderful image of Ceroba's feet out of her mind, and she'll treasure that for as long as she can, but for now...

...She'll have to visit her when she's off duty. -~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

**ALL CHARACTERS DEPICTED ARE 18 OR OLDER**

*Over 3000 words long!*

ahoy scallywags!

This is a raffle story for Willowsbuggy starring two wonderful characters, Ceroba and Martlet, after the events of the game, and Martlet becomes a delivery woman, she stumbles into Ceroba's east manor for a quick meetup, before Martlet's lack of self-awareness lead to both the biggest fright of her life, and the biggest dream she's had.

also have a discord if you didn't already know! Anyone is allowed to join, from watchers to people who are just interested. Some of the benefits of joining includes being able to meet me along with others a little more personally, an extra vote for any and all upcoming raffles, and a preview of my work ahead of time! You might even make a friend or two! You must be 18+ to join! here! https://discord.gg/Vnz3hpbxhq

I hope you all have a fantastic day!

[justaspecter]

Why you shouldn't trust your friends on Halloween...

You are dragged by your friends back into your old town to spend your group's yearly Halloween party, and for some reason, you don't have any recollection of what you did whenever you wake up the next day all alone in the forest.

Of course, Halloween isn't complete without an old-school haunted house trespassing. To your unlucky ass, you got the longest stick. And without further ado, unceremoniously pushed you inside the hole of the backdoor.

Well, time to get your yearly spooks.

This is my attempt at writing a smut fic. But instead, I ended up making this mess. I tried really. Hope you enjoy reading this.

Just for the spook

"Aahhh!" You screamed almost jumping on the spot when you heard the offensive sprite sound coming from the automated sprayers. "Fucking hell." You curse as you glare at the random shelves placed right beside the staircase. 

This mansion. This. Fucking. Mansion. It's driving you insane. You've been wandering in the dark halls for an hour now looking for a way out. You tried every possible door, every window, heck even the small hole in the wall that your pesky friends pushed you inside, but you kept coming back to that corridor where the strange black door stood intimidatingly at the very end of the hall. Inside the room is an ominous coffin at the very center, a bit of attention whore to place in the most obvious spot. And as if that isn't enough to confuse you. This, you glared accusingly at the little boring gray-colored spray, of all the things that seem out of place in this mansion this fucking thing is the most out of a place of them all. 

Ignore the coffin. Whoever lives in this decrepit mansion must have placed it for the scare. 

The moment you get out of this creepy place you're gonna strangle those bastards. But in the pit of your stomach uncertainty squirms constantly as if you are running after the bathroom, corridors stretching away in front of you while you are having an untimely attack of lbs you never have. 

And then there's the feeling of being watched. Right at the edge of your peripheral, you swear someone was peering in every corner veiled by the darkness, a glimpse of eerie gold, whipping like a wisp whenever you turn or glance. 

The sound of the slow tune of the piano and other orchestral instruments grows louder as you walk closer to the end of the hall. You don't dare to remember anymore how many times you heard that music in that same specific spot, that same theatrical soprano of that wailing woman. 

Why do you keep coming back to that same hallway?! You swear you are going back down the main hall. And you swear, you, you pulled the needle away from the Gramophone. 

Sudden bouts of anger rush through you as you dash toward the Gramophone pushing it off its place. Some of its pieces clutter the ground. Putting an absolute end to the looping creepy wail of its disturbing symphony. 

"Enough! Whoever sick fuck you are just show yourself!" You screamed accusingly flashlight flailing around the darkness. 

You are huffing, shaky ragged breaths from frustration, confusion, and utter helplessness vehemently gnawing your remaining composure. Spending another hour in this damn place and your phone's battery will eventually die down on you.  

The sound of the door creaking pulls you back into this dark reality. You follow where the sounds come from, you round around the corner and you hardly distinguished a glimpse of a tall figure standing in front of the lone open door in the dark hall. Before you could even shine your light toward it the figure entered the room. Under your cautious steps, floorboards creak wearily as if its sole purpose is to tattle you. Everything in this place is simply against you. 

Even though you didn't mean to intrude the mansion, bothering it with your existence, this stinking place should just release you if it hates you so much. 

Then the sound of the piano once again thrums within the deathly silence of the place. It is hauntingly familiar to the sound played on the Gramophone. 

Inside there's the figure you saw before, it's back facing you as it plays the piano. But the more you get closer something is definitely… off. Still, that doesn't stop you from reaching toward the man who seems to be wearing a pristine suit. 

"He-hello? Excuse me?"

The music stopped. The lack of music shouldn't spook you but the person's rigid stance in front of the piano managed to unnerve you. 

"I-I didn't mean to trespass in this place. My friends pushed me inside the hole of the backdoor. Please Mister, can you help me out? I swear I'll never come back here." You waited for a reply hoping that the man would help you. 

"I'm afraid not."

You flinch and suddenly feel petrified when the voice doesn't come out toward the man in front of you. Instead, the voice awfully sounded near as if…

Slowly you crane your head to your side only to find nobody there beside you. Then a rustle brought your attention back toward the piano, toward the man. 

The man.

Your knees give out as you stare eyes wide in disbelief, mouths gaping open but the air feels too thick and sprinkled with glass as in every expand of your chest there was a sharp sensation scraping your throat all the way down your chest. You are now quivering after realizing you've been tricked. The hope in you has been crushed once again. 

Glass bead for an eye staring at you dead in the eyes. As the mannequin, you thought a real living man this whole time is nothing but a lifeless figure. A mannequin. What is this place? 

Then the music started playing again from afar. 

Done with the random shit that screws with you, you stand up marching toward the hall you keep looping from. You are welcome with the sight of the broken Gramophone still on the ground, the record continues to rotate producing a distorted horrifying sound. 

"There's nowhere for you to run…"

This time the melodious wail of the singer turned akin to the demonic voice in a mocking holler and the wail of pained cries synthesized to a twisted orchestra. 

"You know… Alice went mad crawling that hole underneath the tree." The demonic voice told you through the horn of the broken gramophone. "Alice, oh poor Alice. Curiosity killed her in the end. Then there's you. Yes, you. Oh, how unfortunate." The voice laughs and laughs and laughs. "Too bad you can't remember everything." 

The laughter starts grating your ears just like the sound of the chalk being dragged across the board. 

Both of your hands clutch the side of your head in a pitiful attempt of muffling the offending sound. You scream, kicking the horn, and stump the box repeatedly until the record is crushed into pieces. 

"Pushed by their friends unwittingly feeding you off into the hungry mouth of a monster. Some friends you have there, little darling."

"Shut up! Shut up!" You chanted frantically screaming along your ragged breath as you continued kicking the damn thing. 

The distorted laughter grows louder and louder making your ears ring, even the cry of pain in the background occasionally overlays the sinister maniac cackle. 

When you realize stumping the gramophone does nothing to stop the noise you turn around and run. Not caring where your frantic feet take you, you just run while trying all the doors you pass. To your horror whenever you turn around the corner you are greeted by the same scenery, broken pieces of the gramophone scattered on the ground, the same mocking demonic laughter, the orchestra of human torment, and the same black door at the end. 

But you keep running… and running and running. You are just zooming, passing the same corridor over and over again. Until your body reminds you of its mortality without proper cardio, guess your lazy ass comes biting you at the most horrifying time. Eventually, you stop and lean beside the wall. 

"Here."

It's a different voice this time. You don't have to search where it came from when the door behind you is slightly open. 

Although you are reluctant upon entering the room, you inch closer and closer until you reach the door and peer through the gap. 

What you see through the gap makes you throw away the remaining reasoning as you run inside the room without even considering it may be a trap. Too desperate and scared you run toward the open front door. 

But you only get passed through a paper-like wall. The utter shock makes you stumble over something in the oppressing darkness which causes you to lose your grip on your phone. Your phone slid meters away from you and when you attempted to crawl toward your phone, echoing footsteps interrupted you. 

You just realized you are not alone in the room. 

Fear is making your whole body rigid, and unresponsive to your instinct screaming at the back of your head to just run, as the steps sound undoubtedly close ahead of you. 

The phone on the ground lies upturned, shining its light above but it is enough to illuminate what lies ahead. Ahead where the footfalls come from a tall figure is emerging in the darkness. A figure with a pair of scorching gold eyes peering down at you. Under its intense gaze, it holds you captive. Enthrall with its peculiar yet familiar hue that illuminates amidst the dark like a neon light.   

The figure halts in front of the phone and now you can see it's a man. But the more you look at him, he looks more than a mere mortal who is undoubtedly handsome with his symmetrical facial features and pointed sideburns. Why does it feel like you actually put those thoughts into words? 

But if he is a god why is he wearing a turtleneck and winter coat? The man still looks elegant but… 

You are suddenly snapped out of your trance when he kneels in front of your phone and picks up the device. 

"Stand up and follow me." 

Hearing his voice brings back the administration over your body and also soothes your fear away. He gives your phone back, even helping you to stand but you jolt away from his touch. 

His hands are cold. Too cold for a living being. Cold like a metal collar around your neck. Your hand instantly touches around your bare neck, as if it is searching for something that is supposed to be there. 

The man isn't bothered by your sudden recoil as he stands up as if nothing happens, as if you didn't just find out. He even looked like he anticipated it from you. 

"I assure you no harm will be inflicted upon you if you follow me."

Again his voice stirs emotions that you don't know where it's coming from. 

"Why–why should I believe you?"

"Why not? You are the trespasser in my home. I'm simply leading you the way out."

Home? He is the owner of this… this demonic place. "This place, I've been here for an hour. I've been running around looping back and forth to that corridor."  

He doesn't respond and saunters toward the door, he just waits there holding the door open for you. You don't know if you can even trust this man knowing what this place did to you. 

Out of the room, you are greeted with a lit-up corridor that is now immaculately clean. You don't question the changes anymore, you accept the mansion is somewhat possessed and supernatural. 

The entire walk down the hall is quiet; only the sound of footsteps is your external stimulus to prove what's going on right now is real. 

Then why does every step closer through the front door your limbs go heavier? 

You expected him to open the door for you but he stopped right beside the door.

"You really are a hopeless case, y/n." He said. 

Your hand hovers over the doorknob. He knew your name. How? 

"It's pointless anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"You always meant to stay here. So there's no point leaving."

You expected a monster will be the one standing right next to you, but instead you meet a pair of golden eyes gleaming with sick amusement. You step back from his threatening closing steps.  

"You always come back, you always do, y/n."

"What do you mean? Who are you?" You asked, voice shaking from panic. Fear is back in your veins again, making you tremble, constricting your airways, and violently pounding your heart in your chest like an animal wanting to free itself from this confusing hellhole. 

Cornered by the wall behind you, you attempt to escape by finally reaching over the door, but cold hands grab your jaw along with the strong arm that holds your back pulling you close to him. 

"Let me help you to remember, my beloved." 

 What the hell! 

 

You tried pushing him away but he overpowered you easily. He is indeed inhuman. Your panicking intensifies when you feel his breath waft over your neck. Without warning, piercing pain shocks your already frazzled nerves. Blank memories started filling up. 

Every year, after you accidentally release the demon in this god-forsaken mansion you come back. Every year on the night of Halloween you are always bound to return one way or another, like a broken record to loop in this never-ending cycle. And in the morning you will wake up in the woods without any recollection of the nightmare you endure. 

You will always be back in the arms of this pitiful, lonely demon bound in this old decrepit mansion. A company for the exchange of your friend's life and yours. 

Mihawk pulls away from your neck cupping your face and stares at you with so much longing. Six hours, you only have to endure his existence for six hours and this will all be over. 

"Tell me beloved how long have you been wandering around?" He asked. Breaking the usual silence between the two of you.

 "An hour?"

He hums. His hold tightens around you while he carries you. You don't know why but you are growing anxious a gut feeling like something is about to happen. 

Then you enter a room, a lit room. The illumination inside is not originated from any of the lamps or candles inside but from the windows. 

"Can you remember how I wish to watch the sunrise with you, y/n?"

Sunrise. No. No, it can't be. 

Mihawk carefully lay you on an armchair before going toward the curtain. He pushes the curtains aside and opens the balcony door. You never thought the view of the sun rising over the horizon caused you so much despair. 

What's going on? Why are you still here?

"One of your friends trade you over a wish."

As if being stuck here isn't enough. You finally break down, crumbling into tiny bits, and leak out of your eyes. The light of early dawn no longer holds its usual beauty, the warmth of safety. Instead, the flickering lights over the horizon seem to taunt you. As it never assures you of the safety you believe in for so long. 

Both of your hands are gently pulled away from your eyes. You don't bother fighting the tears from falling out of your eyes or either the man now kneeling in front of you. 

"I told you, didn't I? You are bound to stay here eventually and become my bride. You should have just accepted my proposal instead of running away." He said while he wipes away the stubborn tears that continue rolling down your cheeks. 

Your fate had been decided before it was even drawn on your palm. His thumb softly traces the scar on your palm. The scars inflicted by one of your friends out of their curiosity. A sacrifice.

The demonic voice in the gramophone is right. Some friends you got. Now you are stuck inside the mansion you desperately wanted to run away from. 

Closing your eyes you submit, letting him kiss you on your forehead. There's no use in fighting him. And at the back of your head, the small voice roused from its slumber saying you are always meant to be here. 

As the cold gold metal band slips onto your left ring finger, it fits perfectly as if it's meant for you, sealing your fate like how it's supposed to be. 

[travelling-on-the-octopath]

S Plays Golden Wildfire - Part save me

Chapter 11 - The Sword Swings Wide

Dreading the FUCK out of this one lads.

Story Content

Claude's army trespasses into Fraldarius. Sigh. (Edmund provided the port, Nader acquired the Almyran ships. How this won't seem like a political fuckfest to everyone involved, I don't know.)

I'm noticing that certain dialogue portraits don't line up with the models fgjdl like not the ones that shift from one expression to another, just a complete mismatch.

Anyway, the three amigos in the Federation have given up on trying to become Faerghan houses.

I'm sure it's supposed to be a haha funny but Nader admits that the king of Almyra wasn't even fully awake when he signed off on the ships being sent to Faerghus' coast, and likely didn't know what he was signing. Why are people being this reckless again??????

So fucking mad. Like I knew they instigated Sreng but WOW THEY INSTIGATED SRENG. Claude where have you gone and who is the man wearing your skin.

Can't say I have sympathy for the guy invading a country based on nothing but partial knowledge and *checks notes* straight-up ignorance?

Fun bit of lore: apparently the same language is spoken in Almyra's westernmost port and Fodlan. (Probably just a way to smooth over the fact that communication between Almyra and Fodlan has happened seamlessly so far?? kinda like how AG was all "the coldest places don't have snow you know :/" when snow was mentioned all the time in Houses dglkjdgkj)

Claude making a direct comparison between Goneril/Almyra and Gautier/Sreng and STILL being all cheeky about hoping Sreng invades . . . what were the writers hoping to accomplish with this one?

Huh. Claud and Hilda support: Hilda expressed discomfort at answering to a king. Almost like . . . coming from a country who answers not to king nor emperor would ruin a girl's enjoyment of the Federation.

CLAUDE ADMITS HE WANTED TO RULE . . . i swear if he tries to turn this into some "the church and its heirarchy!!!!" thing i'll sock him.

Anyway not to be deranged, but there's a theme i've noticed between AG and GW that's all about the route lords thinking they're properly delegating only for their allies to bonk them over the head like "WHAT HAVE YOU ACTUALLY DELEGATED TO US?"

:(

I might have to kill Lions in this chapter :((

i fucking hate this route

Like i cannot believe that I feel as gross playing Claude's route as I did Her Majesty's. How fucked up a world does THAT have to be.

Claude iterates that the goal is to topple Fhirdiad <3 Hate him

NO NO NO NOT A GAUTIER FLASHBACK :(((((

The only bright side to this is that I get more of angry sylvain in Japanese. That is it.

Okay so the REAL issue here isn't toppling the kingdom and then divvying it up like war spoils; it's that the Federation would be next. Why does this guy have no fucking problem invading a nation that, I repeat, has done nothing to antagonize his?

"The church wields their authority like some sort of righteous cudgel. The problem is, said authority was never theirs to begin with. They need to be stopped."

THIS LINE HURTS WORSE THAN THE COVID BY THE WAY

What gets me--WHAT FUCKING GETS ME--is that this route would like to imply that invading Faerghus and forcing Dimitri to sacrifice Rhea is the only way this could possibly go, because he would do anything to protect his people. But. Azure Gleam exists. It's right there. So . . . I'm just supposed to get on board with the fact that this invasion was the only option? or is it more likely that mr. king of the federation over here has been made astounding levels of dumb by our dear team of writers because his character is ill-suited to a hack n slash.

Main Battle - Invasion of the Northern Kingdom

Oh my fucking god I'm going to have to kill Felix, Ashe, and Rodrigue

IF THIS WERE ACTUALLY A STORY OF DIFFERENT FACTIONS DOING WHAT'S BEST FOR THEIR COUNTRIES, IT WOULD BE DIFFERENT. But that is not what this is and it makes me mad and sad and >:[

You know it's rough when I watch reinforcements appear and am like "...You know what? Faerghus deserves to go a little apeshit here." and then hesitate to kill the reinforcements.

Ohh nooooo the combat engineer was routed ??? how could such a tragedy have befallen me!!!

Ugh

Crying actual tears. Ashe I'm sorry

FELIX BEING SAD OVER ASHE'S DEATH OH I FUCKING HATE IT HERE

How are ANY OF THESE PEOPLE in GOOD CONSCIENCE toppling a stronghold in a country that has done literally nothing to antagonize them. It makes me so??????

In Felix's words "I see no words to spare invaders who force their way into our home."

And that's literally what they are by the way.

OH YAY I DIDN'T HAVE TO KILL FELIX :')

Not gonna lie y'all i don't think i'll be able to enjoy GW dimiclaude

oooohhhh no i might have to kill felix after all

OH OKAY SWEET I ONLY HAD TO KILL ONE LION

.

oh fuck no

oh FUCK no

I WILL TOLERATE A LOT OF THINGS. BUT KILLING THE MARGRAVE? MY BLORBO?

I wanna tear this route to shreds WHAT is good about it

Okay no I'm sorry Claude doesn't get to wear a long face right now; HE IS CHOOSING TO DO THIS.

Hey, hey Claude, guess what, "someone as famed as respected as Margrave Gautier" wouldn't have had to "die for the sake of others" if you had just TAKEN A SECOND to LEARN YOUR OWN FACTS before trying to uproot ONE WOMAN from the capital of a WHOLE OTHER NATION

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!!

I find it. Really fucking funny. That Claude is like "We fight for a future where anyone can be anything they want! And I'm king <3"

Like i know that's a gross oversimplification of it but Holy Fuck do I not like a bit of what's going on here.

Side Battle

FELIX APPEARED FUCK FUCK FUCK I HATE THIS I HATE THIS

Yeah no I'm never playing Scarlet Blaze. I'm not made of the right stuff

Sorry y'all I'm only playing the necessary side battles for my mental health.

Misc.

Lysithea sounds perpetually petulant in Japanese and I fucking love it.

Gotta love that Three Hopes maintains that Claude can't do manual labour to save his life glkdjg (hilda and his dining hall conversation)

[escapetodreamworld]

Cigarettes, summoning spells and...

Angelique x reader

Summary: you summon Angelique for a booty call.

Warnings: SMUT minors do not interact, if you do, it's not my fault. NSFW, light mommy!kink, Angie uses her demon tongue, smoking, oral sex, grinding, I'm not sure what else to say.

A/n happy birthday Tina! @merci-bitch I got this idea from yours and @multimilfs texts in our discord server. Also my first time writing smut.

Words: 2,820

You know you shouldn't be doing this, if Barnabas or mom found out, they would murder you, bury you alive. But you can't stop thinking about her. So here you are, cutting the chains holding the Collinswood gate doors shut with a pair of bolt cutters.

You look over your shoulder to make sure no one is watching. After the fire, the police locked the gates to keep kids from breaking in and getting hurt in the falling rubble. It's not like you're trespassing, you're a Collins, you can be here if you want.

You see no one, you slip through the open gate, being sure to close it in case a cop comes to check on it. You chuck the pair of bolt cutters in the bushes, no longer needing them, you remember Angelique blasting the front door of its hinges, so there's no more locked doors to break through. 

Reaching the manor you see just how crumbled it is, the whole wing with your bedroom is gone, luckily there wasn't much in there you liked let alone need, especially not for your plans tonight. You step over the police caution tape, ducking under another to get into the entryway, all the furniture it's gone, burnt. And the tile floors are covered in a thick layer of soot and debris. But that will work for what you need to do.

You waste no time, walking to the middle of the room, dropping to your knees, you take a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second, trying to remember what the picture you saw in that musty old book looked like. The image forms in your mind, and your hand starts moving, drawing in the ashes and cold embers as if you were writing messages in the sand at the beach. It wasn't long until a summoning circle was drawn.

Now if only you could remember the words, you're trying to remember, but the wording was weird, and you can't screw this up. As you think about it you remember you need some kind of offering, so you reach into your hoodie pocket, pulling out a fresh carton of cigarettes, and a lighter. Hoping it will be enough, you place them on either side of the circle.

You start remembering the words, as you form them all in your head, you prepare to say them, you need to do it precisely or something bad could happen. You clear your throat, ready to say the chant.

"That's cute and all, but you don't need to use a summoning spell for me." You jump, spinning around at the husky voice, that came from nowhere yet everywhere, it clearly was Angelique's voice, but you don't know where she is.

"Where are you?" You ask nervously, spinning in circles looking for even the slightest sign of her.

"Right here." She whispers in your ear, her breath hot against your neck. You whip around to find no one there, but the cackling you hear makes you know she's playing with you.

"How are you here? I haven't summoned you yet." You ask confused, you thought that was the only way. Angelique chuckles, and you feel a hand run down your spine, you shiver and whip around again, this time Angelique's standing right there, completely pieced together, not a crack in site, nothing like how she looked that night, you have to hold in another shiver at the image of Angelique's shattered face, caving in on itself. Her dress is still ripped up, but that is not as bad.

"It's all about intention, you wanted something so badly you didn't have to say anything." She says, moving around you to grab the pack of cigarettes off the floor. "So the real question is, why do YOU want ME so badly?" She asks, whispering in your ear once again. emphasizing some of her words, her thick French accent coming out as she speaks. 

Before you can reply you hear a clicking sound and the smell of smoke hits your nose. You turn around, coming face to face with Angie, who's smoking a cigarette. You don't think twice before taking the cigarette from between her lips and bringing it to yours. An action Angelique watches with such intensity, her eyes watching your every move, staring at your mouth as you exhale the smoke.

"I think you know exactly why I wanted you." You say, not breaking eye contact as you hand the cigarette back to her. Angie takes it from you, but drops it on the ground, crushing it with her heel before she gets closer to you, her breath hitting your face, her hand snaking around your back, pulling you against her with inhuman strength, causing the air to leave your lungs.

Angie moves her head down to your neck, exhaling just to make you shiver. And you do, and you can feel her grin against your skin, then she nips just under your jaw, causing a whimper to escape you, despite your attempts to hold it in. You can feel her hand on your back move to your waist, gripping it hard. Drawing another whimper from you. 

"Say it." She growls against your ear, her teeth grazing it as she speaks. "Tell me what you want, tell me what you need." Angie says, her voice low, controlled. Unlike you, who's already breathing heavily, from just the small amount of attention she's given you, you should be embarrassed, but the way she's making you feel, you don't care. The burning feeling between your legs makes it impossible to care.

"You. I need you." You say, it's barely more than a breath, you're not sure she heard it, not until she's gripping your wrist pulling you down the only hallway that hasn't collapsed in on Itself. "Where are we going?" You ask, stumbling over something, you look to see what it was but she just pulls you up right and keeps moving.

"Angie, where are we going?" You ask again, when you received no answer the first time.

"I'm finding a clean surface I can take you against." she tells you in that teasing, husky voice. And all you can say is "oh." As the wetness between your legs becomes way more noticeable for you. The grin on Angie's face after you speak is wide, smug even. It's not long until she's pulling you into the dining hall. Which is surprisingly untouched by fire. It's the same as it was after your last breakfast here a few days ago.

Angie let's go of your wrist, as even she takes in the room. But you notice that grin doubling in intensity when her eyes land on the table. It doesn't even take you a second to know what she's thinking, she's on you instantly, her hands on your hips as her lips connect with your neck, sucking on your most sensitive area, nipping occasionally but soothing her bites with her tongue. You can't help but tilt your head to the side, offering her more, which she takes. You can't hold in the moans leaving your mouth, all you can do is grip her shoulder with one hand and the hair just above the back of her neck with your other hand.

Her attack on your neck is becoming too much, you have to clench your legs together in hopes of relieving some of the tension building up inside you. Angelique notices the movement, she pulls back to look down at your shaking legs. A predatory look stretching across her face, as she watches you, breathless, shaking, desperate for her.

She's quick to walk you backwards, her hands on your hips, you legs bump against the running table, and with one quick motion she's lifting you up onto it, you sit on the edge as Angelique slides in between your legs, she pulls you flush against her body, your legs immediately wrapping around her hips, you cover your mouth to hold back the desperate sounds that were coming from your throat.

Angelique snatches your hand away from your mouth, glaring at you. "Put your hands behind your back." She growls, rolling her hips into you once, causing your head to fall back as you moan at the amazing feeling that you felt when she hit you just right. You do as you're told, putting your hands behind your back.

"Good girl." Angelique purrs, rolling her hips again. You whimper and pull your legs impossible tighter around her, bucking up against her. Angie finally kisses you, pulling your face in, slipping her pinky finger behind your ears for a better hold on your face, you fight for dominance, Angie sliding her hand up your thigh. You freeze for a moment when you realize both her hands are still hold your face, you pull back to see another hand drawing patterns in your thigh, it confuses you but the look on Angie's face, tells you she's using some kind of magic, so you let her pull you in for another kiss, this time she plays dirty, her hand wedging itself between your legs, rubbing you through your jeans.

Your moan allows Angie to slip her tongue in your mouth, and she wastes no time before exploring your mouth. Her hand is still rubbing you, your underwear completely soaked, you're honestly surprised she can't feel it. You keep bucking against her hand, the feeling in your core tightening, pushing you closer to your release. Your movements are becoming more erratic, as you chase your high. The feeling of Angie's tongue sliding deeper into your mouth than you thought possible is egging you on, your legs clenching tight around Angie as you're about to come undone, all you need is a few more thrusts up into her.

Suddenly the hand between your legs is gone and two hands grip your hips stopping your thrusts, you whine as Angie pulls away completely. Angie smirks. Licking her lips before saying. "I didn't give you permission to come yet." Causing you to whine again.

Angie steps back, and you watch as she moves to the chair at the head of the table, she pulls the chair out and takes a seat, leaning back against the cushioned chair, you can help but notice how she looks like royalty sitting at her throne. She grips the arm rests, she looks up at you with that grin and you know she's got something in her head. "Tell me, who sits here?" She asks, and gestures for you to come closer.

You're confused by the question, but you're riled up and desperate for her attention, so you go along with it. "My mom always sits there." You say, as you crawl towards her. Until you're sitting in front of her, your legs hanging off the table on both sides of the chair, from your spot you look down to see her smirking. Her hand comes to rest on your knee, as the other pulls your face down for a kiss. The kiss is hot, Angie uses her mouth to devour yours, when she releases you from the kiss she pulls back making the hottest groaning sound you've ever heard. 

"What would your mother say if she knew what I was going to do to you, right where she eats her breakfast." Angelique whispers, against your lips as her hands wrap under your knees, tugging you closer until you're on the edge of the table, you let out a yelp at the sudden move. "Her precious girl, screaming for the enemy to take them, begging for release." She continues her taunt, all while undoing the button and zipper of your jeans, you lift your hips to help her pull them off. You make quick work of taking your hoodie off while she takes your jeans off, her eyes raking over your body when you do. Her eyes almost completely black now, her pupils blown with lust.

With a final tug she gets the jeans off your legs, then she moves your calves to be strategically placed on the outer side of the arm rests, spreading you wide enough for her to see you. Your breathing is out of control again as you watch her lick her lips at the site of you, her predatory grin is back. "Put your arms behind your back again and lay down, don't move them." You do as she says again, and you lay back on them, you stare at the ceiling, trying to control your breathing.

"Don't come until I give you permission." She says, and you feel her hands sliding up your inner legs, before pushing them further apart, you can't help but moan. then you feel a breath on your core, causing you to squirm, one of her hands has to hold onto your hip to stop you from moving. "You smell so good." You hear her groan, and with one quick movement she tears your underwear off. then you feel her tongue, hot, wet against you, your back arches as Angie devours you, causing her to push your hips down harder. 

The feeling of her tongue circling your clit makes your toes curl as you gasp, the noises you're making are only making Angie continue teasing you, she's trying to draw out every sound she can from you. Angie slips her tongue impossibly deep inside of you, going past the limit any tongue can go to, and it feels so good. The way her tongue curls and writhes inside of you, it has your walls clenching as your release threatens to take over. You know you can't last much longer not with the way she's driving her tongue into you, thrusting it deep inside you and the way she's already edged you once.

"Please" you beg right before she curls her tongue again hitting your g spot, you moan loudly. You feel her start to pull away, but she replaces her tongue with two fingers, sliding them into you, keeping the same pace as her tongue did, her thumb rubbing your clit. She looks up at you from between your legs, you can barely hold your head up to look at her in return. Her face is covered in your juices, her serpent tongue coming out to wipe herself clean, and you stare in shock, but the site only gets you wetter.

"Please what baby? Use your words for me." She says smugly, knowing exactly what you crave. Her thumb, pressing against your clit, your back arching at the intense feeling, you're desperate.

"Please! Please let me come!" You beg, moaning loudly as she adds a third finger.

"Hmm I don't know, having you like this is so fun, watching you writhe and beg for me, maybe I'll keep you like this for hours, edging you until morning, I'm sure your mom will get worried and come look for you, she'll find you, just as I make her daughter come, you screaming my name." Angie taunts you, her thrusts never wavering.

"No please! Please, I'll do anything please! Just let me come." You beg again, your lust filled brain not processing the words spewing from your lips.

"Anything huh?" Angie asks, her fingers curling up against your g spot again. All you can do is nod and whimper, your toes curling as you desperately try to move your hips in time with her thrusts but the hand on your hip is still restricting your movements.

"Okay, I guess I can let you come, just this once, I'm not never done with you yet." She says, and you thank her between gasps and moans as she doubles her efforts, her three fingers still thrusting into you but her tongue replaces her thumb as she plays and sucks on your clit. 

Your walls starts tightening around her fingers, your release building up like a dam, ready to break. "Come for me" you hear and feel Angie whisper again the clit. You come with a scream, and you can only assume it was her name leaving your lips because all you can hear is ringing. Angie continues her thrusts, but she's leaned back into the chair, watching you come down for your high. She's grinning at you, watching as you pant and catch your breath.

You hear a familiar clicking sound and you try to push yourself into a sitting position but your arms are completely numb, so all you can do is lift your head as you watch her light a cigarette, her eyes never leaving you. She takes a pull from her cigarette before saying.  "That was hot, none of my past partners have called me mommy while orgasming." Your eyes widen at her words, you drop your head back onto the table in embarrassment.

"Now, we'll get to that whole "anything" deal later. right now, I want to watch you touch yourself."

[emachinescat]

Title: Of Concussions and Incorrigible Cons | Fandom: Psych

Summary: AU of the pilot episode. After being reprimanded by the interim chief, Head Detective Carlton Lassiter bites off more than he can possibly chew after attempting to apologize to a concussed Spencer for the less than gentle arrest at the end of the McCallum case. Spoilers for "Domestic Pilot." Part 1 of my whumpy episodic AU series, "AU that Glitters."

Words: 1,951

TW: None

AO3 Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Humor, Episode AU: s01e01: Domestic Pilot, Whump

Year Published: 2017

Full story here or on AO3!

Head Detective Carlton Lassiter stood in front of the interim chief's door, fist poised to knock and foot tapping an anxious rhythm on the floor. Vick had been rather short with him when she'd asked him to come to her office as soon as the paperwork for the McCallum case had been taken care of. It wasn't the "I'm busy, so make it quick" kind of short, either… she was agitated about something.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked.

Her voice rang out from inside, dead serious as could be. Yeah, she was pissed about something.

He entered, and opted for the ignorant approach, which was just as well, because he really had no idea what this was about. After all, he'd already been given a stern-talking to about inter-department romance and Lucinda was in the process of being transferred. A little swell of fury rose at the thought of the man – the so-called "psychic" who had so carelessly ruined one of the only positive things he had going for him.

"Detective Lassiter. Please sit."

He sat stiffly in the proffered chair, refusing to let the cushy trappings lull him into a false sense of security. He maintained eye contact with the chief, letting her know that he was completely comfortable in the situation that he found himself in, and that he had nothing to hide. Never mind the fact that he wasn't all that comfortable with the cloak and dagger business, being left in the dark about why he was here in the first place. "Chief. What can I do for you?"

Vick's eyes may have softened the tiniest bit at his cordial greeting, but she still did not look like a happy camper.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Detective," she said bluntly. "This could have turned out much worse. As it is, I am going to have to give you an informal reprimand and warn you to be very careful in the future."

Lassiter blinked. "Uh, Chief… What…?"

"Detective, you cannot be physically aggressive toward civilians who are in your custody, unless they are resisting arrest or are posing a threat to you or others around you."

Still trying to work through the confusion, Lassiter was both offended and relieved that there had been a mistake like this, that Vick actually thought that he'd attack a non-resisting civilian. Whatever she'd heard, it was all a big mix up. "Chief, let me assure you that I would never—"

"Shawn Spencer. McCallum residence. Yesterday afternoon. Ring any bells?"

Lassiter blanched. "Spencer hardly counts as a civilian. He's a hindrance to real police work, a distraction, and at the time, he was trespassing. I had to take him in." He left the bitter, At least, until he solved my damn case, left unspoken.

"Be that as it may, Detective, your shoving him head-first into the frame of the car was a bit overboard, don't you think?"

Wait, this was what this was about? Seriously?

"He was resisting arrest, Chief. He was… flailing and pretending to have 'visions' and acting like a crazy person!"

A delicate but ferocious eyebrow lifted. "Not when you shoved him into the car. And may I remind you, he did solve the case?"

"Did he tell you this? That little…"

"Detective!" the chief cut him off before he could say anything to get himself into any more trouble, which, although he didn't appreciate at the time, he was begrudgingly thankful for after the fact. "Mr. Spencer didn't tell me anything. I was there, remember? I saw the whole thing… whatever it was."

Oh. Right. Damn that Spencer for getting into his head like this!

"He's fine, Chief," Lassiter responded, much more calmly this time. "Don't let him take advantage of you. This country is crawling with people faking injuries just to get a few thousand dollars from a lawsuit."

"I told you, Mr. Spencer said nothing to me. His father, on the other hand, called me this morning in a rage. Thankfully, I was able to calm him down and help him to see reason, but it wasn't easy."

"So he went and told his daddy that he got a boo-boo at the crime scene?" Lassiter couldn't keep the disgusted contempt out of his voice this time. "I thought they hated each other, anyway?"

"They have a… complicated relationship, and it really isn't our place to bring that under speculation. However…" She sighed. "It is my job to make sure that my officers are not allowing their emotions or anger, no matter how warranted said anger might be, to get the better of them. Especially after what Henry told me this morning. Apparently, Mr. Guster had to take Shawn to the emergency room last night after his headache peaked and he lost consciousness briefly. Mr. Spencer is being treated for a concussion, Detective, and that is why we're having this talk."

"Oh." Lassiter wasn't sure what to say beyond that, but he slapped away the little niggle of guilt that tried to burrow into him at the news. He hadn't meant to hurt Spencer, certainly not that badly. The man was being difficult, had lost Lassiter his girlfriend, his respect… had mocked him by acting like an idiot and still managing to solve the case first…

"Shawn himself is not going to press charges or file a report, though I was obligated to contact him about the matter. He said – and these are his words – that 'Mr. Grumpy Detective-Face is emotionally stunted and is just trying to express how much he likes me in the only way he knows how.'" Vick looked marginally amused as she read Spencer's response off the sheet in front of her. A muscle in Lassiter's neck twitched. "Now, those exact words could be because of the concussion…"

Lassiter fought the urge to roll his eyes. "They're not, Chief. Trust me."

Now appearing to be fighting a smile, the chief said, "Consider this your unofficial reprimand and warning to control your irritation when you are faced with a particularly difficult witness… or consultant. Because once he is feeling better, I do believe the department will be calling on Mr. Spencer again."

This time, Lassiter couldn't stop the eye roll. Or the groan. Vick smiled. "You're dismissed, Detective."

"Yes, ma—uh, I mean, Chief."

***

Shawn was woken when the doorbell rang, the sound slicing through his aching head like a butter knife through steak... or however that saying went. Without bothering to get up from where he was sprawled on the couch, he called out, "It's open."

Damn, concussions sucked. It was bad enough that Gus had practically dragged him to the hospital after he'd had some sort of dizzy spell last night, but then he'd called his dad to boot? Was this now Gus with his mom for additional parental torture? Not that he would mind seeing his mom… but he was so over worried hovering. Gus played the part of a worried mother exceptionally well, and Shawn couldn't handle two of them… Which was made irrelevant when the door opened to reveal not his mother, but…

"Detective Lassiter?"

Lassiter stepped into Shawn's apartment, keen blue eyes taking the coffee table littered with empty pudding cups, icepacks, water bottles, and prescription bottles. "You just leave your front door unlocked for anyone to come waltzing in? You're just begging to be robbed." Upon taking another look around at the untidy living space, his lip curled and he added, "Or maybe not."

Shawn struggled to sit up past the monkey playing cymbals in his head. "Your contempt for my apartment aside, what are you doing here?"

The detective hesitated. "I was just in the neighborhood and I…" Shawn watched knowingly as the detective's gaze shifted to the rather impressive bruise on his head.

"You wanted to check on me? Oh, Detective, you shouldn't have!"

"I didn't," growled Lassiter. He paused. "This was a mistake. I'll just—"

"Wait!" Shawn shifted, patting the sofa seat beside him. "Come in. Sit down. Rest your rumpus. Put your feet up. Slow your roll. Chillax your—"

With an irritated grunt, the detective passed the threshold and sat in the chair farthest away from Shawn. "Look. I didn't exactly… yesterday, when I…"

"I know, I know. You were just expressing your love for me in the only way you know how, like that little boy in school who pulls the little girl's pigtails because he thinks she's cute."

"Absolutely not."

"Okay, you got me—" Shawn winced as a particularly painful wave shot through his poor, abused noggin. "I was that kid in school. Her name was Melinda, and she had the cutest, bounciest set of—"

"Dear Lord, please stop talking."

"I was going to say pigtails, dude. Mind. Gutter. Get it out."

"This is a monumental waste of my time," the detective spat, standing up so abruptly it almost gave Shawn vertigo… Or wait, he might have already had vertigo, wasn't that a concussion symptom ? And what was vertigo, anyway? Besides an Alfred Hitchcock flick?

Past the pounding in his skull, Shawn heard footsteps stomping away, toward the door. Despite the telltale ringing in his ears, Shawn scrabbled to his feet, ignoring the dark spots dancing wildly in front of his eyes. His pulse hammered, his breath felt short and stunted, and the dizziness spiked. He knew what was going to happen seconds before it did. He was unconscious before he hit the floor.

***

When the world swam back into focus, Shawn was surprised to find that he was back on the couch, not in a heap on the floor. He noticed blearily that his hands tingled like he'd been sitting on them for a couple of weeks, and his ears were still ringing like a high school band had paraded between them and accidentally left the triangle player behind. With a groan against the horrible pounding that had overtaken his skull – the procession of drummers must've gotten left behind, too – he rolled over to see Head Detective Carlton Lassiter kneeling next to the couch.

"You passed out," the detective stated helpfully.

"I did not," Shawn argued, mostly out of obligatory need to irritate whoever was in his general vicinity. "I fell asleep, suddenly and quickly, in a very manly and not wimpy way."

"Sure you did. Just be glad I got to you before you hit the ground. You would have a matching bruise on the other side of your head."

Shawn feigned shock. "So you dashed to my side, caught me before I hit the ground, gently placed me on the sofa, and lingered over my prone body until you knew I wasn't on death's door? Detective, I'm touched."

Lassiter half-sneered, half-smirked. "You were only out for a handful of seconds. I was hoping you'd stay out of it long enough for me to escape, but of course you had to ruin that plan, too."

Shawn winced, only partly out of pain. "Look, man, I'm sorry about your girlfriend. I just—"

The detective stood hastily, popping up from the ground like a Jack-in-the-Box with a strong Irish hairline and lots of pent-up aggression. "We don't talk about that. Ever."

Shawn lifted both hands up in mock surrender. Lassiter's face softened, just the tiniest, miniscule bit. "You're okay, though? Do I need to call your father or someone—?"

"No! I would rather you leave me here to die."

Lassiter shrugged. "Works for me." He strode for the door.

Shawn hesitated, licked his lips, and then offered, "Detective? Thanks."

"Just take it easy," the detective advised.

It was as close to an apology as Shawn was going to get, and, though Shawn might not have shown it through his next words, he did in fact appreciate it.

"Lassie," Shawn said, testing out the new nickname he'd been considering since he'd met the detective. He watched with glee as the man bristled in agitation.

"What?" the detective ground out through gritted teeth.

"I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

The head detective had fled the apartment and slammed the door before Shawn could blink. Shawn settled back into the couch cushions and tried to will his head to stop raging against him. Or at least a plain but not drop-dead-ugly working tolerance, he amended in his head, before he drifted off to sleep.

[fluxherbaria]

It's me! Quasi from Archive of our own. I believe I had tumblr at some point, but I was quite frankly not cool enough, and my whole page was pretty awful. That is why now I'm in your ask me anything box as an anonymous person. I think my brain didn't let me try to login to my account again because the cringe level would probably kill me. Anyway (sorry for always rambling) I would actually honored if you sent me a snippet of the next chapter. However, I completely understand if you can't. Thanks

hahahahaha I understand, I haven’t touched or edited mine for ages. Sure! I’d like to share some conversation snippets, ideas, because it’s not a coherent piece yet - but I’m sure you’d appreciate nonsense. (Seriously, good chance this will all confuse you). It’s been an odd month, and my mind is all over the place at the moment, so it’s not a problem of writing, more of knowing if something I’ve written feels ‘good’ or ‘not good enough’. If you have feedback, thoughts, that would be cool to hear. Would you like to be addressed with a particular name, or is Quasi all right?

Well, what do I have - fair warning, this is all subject to change and not final. I was thinking of calling it ‘Joue’ 

Hermioneserved something for dinner, and when she propped down four plates Draco staredat the table and his hands came down, slow, on the back of a chair. “What areyou doing here,” he said, airy and blank, “apart from trespassing.”

Hermionefrowned at him, sitting down, for a while. “It’s holidays.”

Harry andDraco exchanged a look.

“Of course,”Harry said.

He found hecouldn’t hold Ron or Hermione’s gaze while they ate, watching Draco’s wrists instead,pluck at food, childish, as if they would see something he didn’t want them to.It didn’t matter – they shifted closer and closer together in conversation,chairs angled. Harry got restless enough to need to stand, and walked andtalked wide berths around them.

Dracoreplaced his seat, at the head of the table and Harry plucked the cigarettefrom his hand.

“Harry’ssmoking,” Draco said to Hermione, “do you know what that means?”

“Cancer?” shesaid without looking up.

“Displacement,”Draco nodded scholarly. “He’s thinking, seriously. You’ve made himuncomfortable. He doesn’t know how to be. Who to be.”

“Draco,” saidHarry.

Hermioneseemed to hesitate, before levering her hands ceremoniously on the table edge,and angled towards Harry. He flicked ash off, the way Draco taught him. “Youknow your parents hated Sirius’ smoking.”

“No hedoesn’t,” Draco said. “He didn’t know his parents.”

“Draco.”

Hermione heldDraco’s gaze, her eyebrows slowly knitting together.

Ron sighed, “Whatdo you know, Malfoy,” he grumbled.Draco stared at him, wide and curious, utterly still, and his throat made acluck noise, audible – before he threw back his head and laughed like a fox.

Harry cameover and slid a hand down his arm, taking his hand, to pull him away and stopthe yipping. “Come on.”

Draco movedand smiled sloppily, getting up. “Excursion?”

“Sex,” Harrysaid, once out of earshot, “Just – something, we’ll get drunk. You come up withsomething –”

Draco consideredhim, eyes darting, and laughed, “What have I done.” He moved in front to lead.

“Hey – and this,” Harrystuck the cigarette back in Draco’s mouth, “I thought it meant that you’re thelover, and this is the bad habit.”

“No,” Draco laughedagain, “I’m the bad habit.”

Ron andHermione stayed overnight. Harry liked the low hum of voices, and what waited aroundcorners and down hallways. He suspected that Hermione did something magicalwith Lou, who she coddled like a baby, because he was happy to stay and nuzzlelegs, pawing through the mansion of trash. He unearthed a Weasley jumper in thetwin bedroom, and a large grey-streaked feather, surprised he hadn’t noticedthem before and wondered if all this time he had been following a roundaboutroute, some redouble back to his past.

In theirpresence, Draco didn’t seem to know how to be, so he just played.

He found aneasel, cracked down the middle and paint brushes as long as his arm, their hairtips hardened, in a “servant’s quarters” wherever that was and sat on Harry’sfeet, forcing him to lie flat on the drawing room floor.

“I wantsomeone to play with,” he announced. He chewed the ends to splinters, andsmiled like a joke.

So hepainted, over some long-deceased patrons on the wall, a nightmarish face withstriking green eyes, and used the charcoal from a chimney to scratch on mophair, and Harry watched, a patient subject, at the little creases in Draco’sface as he concentrated, at what thought they carved in his face.

Harry hadgrown accustom to walking around at night, when everything seemed asleep andeerier, gloomy portraits and shrunken heads watching. He got lost easily.

Harry raninto Hermione on the first landing, and in the stifling shadows she lookedsmaller. He copied her unconscious step into the darkness, against the wall, closeenough to taste her breath.

Her eyes werecat bright and brazen. “Hermione,” he said, in quiet anticipation.

“You’redropping out, aren’t you,” she said in a full, harsh whisper, that putsomething to words that Harry hadn’t yet.

“It’sdifferent,” he said, “Hogwarts.”

“Maybe it’syou.”

“How – thewhole thing is different,” he felt tired, bled out, all the sudden, “it’s likerehab, not home. I’m not –”

“No,”Hermione argued. “I mean, maybe it’s you. That expected it to be the same.”

She lookedtired and miscoloured somewhat, a little less, and Harry felt something rise inhim. He took hold of her small, determined fingers, “sleep in my room,” hewhispered. “I don’t know.”

Harry glancedbehind him at Sirius’ door, where he had been sleeping, and could hear Dracosmashing things in the attic sporadically. He pulled her into the room, “Ron’s–” she looked behind her, out of shadow and he closed the door behind him.

“Who cares,”Harry pulled her down to the bed, and could already feel the tug of young, heavysleep, from the crimson cover of the Gryffindor room and the lamp glow on herface, warming her gold. And from the slip of moth-ruined blankets that heburied them under, just like their tent canvas, that winter forever ago hespent with just her and a tent.

She blinkedneatly up at him, and he locked her arms under his, her elbow digging into hisside. Her familiar, warm motherly smell like library books and quilts. “I missyou,” he shifted, getting comfortable.

“You’redifferent,” she whispered into his jumper.

“Who cares,”he repeated, and closed his eyes. “Sleep.”

He woke up toher hair, a bush in his face as she had spun around in the night. He lay still,watching the rise and fall of her slow breathing, his wrist clamped in hergrip. He climbed out before light, even though he wanted to stay, and foundDraco in a frosty corner of an underground storage, playing the Artist againand carving icicles with a pick, the sound travelling.

He turned,wet hair clinging to his face. “Is that my insomniac?”

Harry led himout, to the first window he found. “I slept,” he propped Draco on the ledge,and climbed on him to watch the sun rise, “with Hermione.”

Draco lookedup at him, a flash of shock in his face, but said, “I knew it.”

Harry huffed,“Don’t be stupid.”

He looked atsilhouettes of buildings against a tan sky. Draco played with him too, so hejabbed Harry’s waist, “pet,” he said, his voice clear and creeping, “My pet.You’ll cook and clean for me, I’ll dress and booze you up and send you out toflirt with all the girls and all the boys,” Draco’s hands were wet on hischeeks. “You’ll report back and record your sexual escapades; we’ll recount andreplay it together –”

“I don’t wantthat,” Harry said, but he wasn’t really listening. He felt tired again, and heldDraco’s hands there.

“That’sright,” Draco coddled. “You don’t want to be anonymous.”

“You know me,”he mumbled, climbing in Draco’s neck to sleep; he smelled like lilac perfume,and said,

“I don’t knowanything anymore,” like a fact, well-worn, and Harry wondered when thatstarted.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, and closed his eyes. “Youknow me,” he said again.

Draco movedaround, light and quick, like a startled mouse; Harry found he couldn’t sitdown for long.

He foundDraco again, hanging off a banister. He glanced at Harry with a wooden face, asif he expected him.

“You’re makingsure I don’t fly away again,” he said over the banister.

Harry grabbedhis outstretched wrist, in air. “You won’t.”

“You don’tknow that.”

Harry settlednext to him, and Draco slid out of grip, slipping to sit, fluid, on the carpet. I don’t. “I trust you.”

Draco smiled upat him. “Bastard.”

Harry bitback his grin, roughly, and could almost feel his hand squeezing through thecage of Draco’s ribs to take a bloody hold of his centre. “Tell me about yourparents,” he said, because then his hand would be locked onto Draco forever.

Draco’s lipsunstuck in a click.

“Please,”Harry said.

“I can’t.”

Harry camebehind Draco and slid his hands down his front, into the warmth of his pants.Draco’s head turned, slow. “Harry Potter,” he said.

“Are youhappy here?”

“Everything Iown is in here,” Draco’s hand came around, and slipped in Harry’s jean pocket. “Youfeed and bathe me – nourish me,provide,” his voice glided. “You’re the little house I can climb into.”

“And whatabout me – what do I get?”

Dracolaughed. “What do you get, yes,” he said, “that’s the question. The blindleading the blind.”

Me again, so it’s looking to be about three times the length of any other chapter. And these are all sketches, rather than scenes, for the most part.