#and then i turned around and realized a couple of the people who were bitten were now like kinda infected

[akascow]

my dreams are so interesting to me sometimes im like wow i should write a fic based around one

then i think about it for like two more seconds and remember not only are dreams so inherently hard to describe or even make sense of but also

if i try to explain a dream i immediately forget anything that happened in it

[six-eyed-samurai]

SUMMARY: For the life of him, Upper Moon Six cannot figure out why he can't bring himself to kill you. It kills him inside to even think about it. A/N: Had this in my drafts for god knows how long, it's finally out LMAO. WARNINGS: Fem reader, one dead man, couple of swears...and that's about it I think

Sometimes Gyutaro really wished Daki wasn’t so picky about who she ate.

It was a particularly low time recently. The District hadn’t received much new members and most of the people Daki had deemed beautiful enough to eat were gone, throwing a whole tantrum about how she’d rather starve than consume such hideousness. They argued, he threatened her, she screamed back, but in the end he relented and continued in his search to find a meal for them both.

He wasn’t picky and could’ve eaten any time he wanted, he grumbled to himself as he hunkered down on the balcony of one of the numerous rooms in the brothel, surveying the blinding lights of the District and spitting at the arrogant men and haughty women down below. But of course he had to just feel bad about being full while his sister went hungry so Gyutaro decided to stave off eating until she did.

If there weren’t any beautiful people, he hoped Daki would be fine with someone pretty. Or at least decently average. And what luck, he had found none.

Well, lies. Gyutaro wondered how Daki never noticed her before and prayed that she never would. Perhaps it was because she was such a quiet, obedient thing that spent most of her time serving the mistress so that probably explained it. Not beautiful enough to attract the attention of clients, but pretty enough to have gotten Upper Six’s interest.

He stalked her around for a few days to figure out the best time to strike and eat her at the beginning. Sometimes she’d accidentally catch on, see that shadow hunkering behind her, but he made sure to always stay out of her sight.

Gyutaro learnt a lot of things about her that way. She liked food that wasn’t too sweet and disliked a certain type of fish. She liked to go take a walk occasionally alone, far away from the brothel. Her favorite color, the jewelry on the other girls she’d eye, when she fell asleep.

She liked ugly things too. That scrawny, flea-bitten cat from the garbage. The gap-toothed, abandoned children of the streets who flocked to her and begged for breadcrumbs. She didn’t seem to mind the out-of-fashion, worn clothes handed to her by the other girls of the house.

He’d like to think she’d like Gyutaro too.

Of course he knew it was wrong. She was food, not someone he should be thinking about constantly, whether he be out hunting for other prey or remaining dormant within Daki. She’d run screaming in the other direction if she so much as caught a glimpse of him.

Gyutaro wasn’t even sure when he had started getting the weird symptoms from watching her. He had originally thought she must be a demon herself, using her Blood Art to make him think about her 24/7, 365, make his palms sweaty and have his heart rate accelerate around her, have the persistent urges to keep following her around for no reason except to just bask in that sunlight of hers.

Probably some time after she nearly came close to realizing he was there, Gyutaro concluded. She was out with the oiran as one of her attendants that night and out of habit he had shadowed them, ducking out of sight amongst the crowds and running into an abandoned alley after nearly getting caught. The stupid cat had suddenly rushed in as well, something in its jaws, and her hot on its heels.

She had slammed into him, both falling over. Gyutaro would’ve snarled and promptly killed the person if it had been anyone else, but seeing her surprised, flustered face bathed in yellow glow momentarily froze him. She was looking at him. She was hovering above him.

He waited for the screaming.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there! Are you alright?!”

Shock left him dumb, instinct caused him to grunt in reply and quickly turn away lest she caught a glimpse of how demonically ugly he was. The cat screeched from somewhere in the back but he could barely hear it over the rush in his ears as her sweet, sweet, gentle, soft hand grabbed his and helped him up, exclaiming apologies again and again.

Then he fell, probably, and could never not think about her again.

Gyutaro abruptly growled and fled in frustration at the weird, disgusting feelings welling up inside of him. Ugly, ugly, ugly, he hated himself, he hated her, he couldn’t stand the thought of killing her, he wanted her so badly not to see him like everyone did, like she did that night, just another person-

But hey, even demons could dream, right? Gyutaro was guilty for the deaths and injuries for hundreds of humans even when he was one himself, but the sin of fantasizing what it’d be like to even be shown an ounce of affection from her, have her for himself (what was it that humans did, hold hands? Each other? He watched her pet the cat; would she pet and play with his hair like that?) made him feel a thousand times guiltier.

A horrible feeling. Like somebody had stabbed him and was twisting the Nichirin blade around in his innards. Obviously this feeling could be fixed if he ate you, got rid of you, right? …even if he couldn’t fathom eating you himself, Daki could, right? God, never mind, he never felt so…what was this feeling at the thought? So for now he just hoped that no one would notice her. Not Daki, she���d become her next meal. Not a client, they were fouler than him.

How dare they dirty your presence anyway? Who cared if they were handsome, rich, well off, of excellent lineage and all that bullshit? The fact they even thought of touching your, harassing you, having you was enough for Gyutaro to lose his mind and go crazy on a killing spree of all those suitors. If he couldn’t have you, and he knew that, they couldn’t either, and they better know that.

Daki, however…she seemed to be picking up on something off about her older brother’s behavior - he had never ignored her complaints about their stash of food running low soon before, never brushed it off with a yell and assurances he’d find more victims and not do so. Confused and indignant was how she had felt and what caused her to spy a little on Gyutaro and eventually how he was just spending his time watching some stupid girl with something sparking in his gaze she wasn’t sure what to feel about. She settled on disliking and being suspicious of it, finally confronting him about it one night.

“Onii-chan, can you just kill her and be done with it already?! You’ve been following her for more than a week now, how long more do you need to kill her?!”

“Shut up! Be grateful I’m even hunting for you.”

Daki huffed and continued yelling about something to do with being too busy with Oiran duties but Gyutaro zoned out completely, glaring upwards. He should be killing her by now. Eating her. Digesting her.

Why am I not doing that? He silently demanded.

In truth he didn’t know either. Didn’t know why he so easily gave into the slightest stupidest excuse to stalk his prey some more. Didn’t know why he thought about killing the people around her more than her herself. Didn’t know why he was decapitating the head of a man who called her slurs the other day instead of her head.

“FINE, I’LL GO KILL HER TONIGHT!”

He slammed the doors for emphasis, muttering profanities he didn’t actually mean about his precious sister as he stalked around the house and to her room. Maybe if Gyutaro killed her he’d stop feeling so ill all the time. “Ill” being used loosely, since…oh God, he liked the feeling, didn’t he?

Gyutaro slammed a fist against the wall. He’d eat her and be done with it.

But when he got to her room he could see not one but two shadows moving about inside, hear murmuring voices and smell a foreign scent…a man’s, tainted by alcohol. Gyutaro couldn’t help it, he wound up eavesdropping in a jealous rage at whoever managed to get close to her.

“You’re a - hic - pretty girl, I’m sure you don’t wanna - hic - be stuck here anymore, ne?”

“Sir, please get out, I never invited you to my room and I’m not working right now-”

“So what? You gonna - hic - do something?” Gyutaro’s nails dug into the wood as he saw a silhouette of a hand grabbing at her arm and yanking her to him.

“I’ll call the mistress if you do anything!”

“Haha, if you can get her to - hic - listen to you, I’ll let you go! I’m already offering - hic - a lot of money for your marriage contract!” The man just about threw her to the door, roughly letting go of her arm as he laughed drunkenly. Gyutaro had barely any time to hide himself in the shadows before the doors were flung open and she raced away.

Marriage? With this pathetic excuse of a-

The next thing Gyutaro knew after awakening from the bloodthirsty, furious craze of very messily murdering the man - the bastard had dared taint such a goddess! Not even Gyutaro had dare done that, too terrified she’d run from the demon that he was and he wouldn’t even be able to catch sight of her anymore - was him standing above the corpse, one sickle buried in the mutilated head…

…while two yellow eyes slowly looked back to see her standing still by the doorway.

His hands curled into fists and he fell to his knees. It was over, wasn’t it? Gyutaro would really have to kill her now, after she’d inevitably shatter his black, rotted heart into a million pieces for slaughtering someone much worse than him. Daki would not be happy at being forced to kill the whole House because he was seen either.

She��fell to her knees as well? Smiling and crying?

“I knew it! I knew you were always there-”

“NEHHH?” Gyutaro reared back, stunned. “You’re supposed to scream! Am I not ugly to you?! Say something else, you stupid human! What do you mean you know?!”

“I knew you were there,” she repeated. “Someone was always following me…you were the one who killed all those…men and left those stolen items from the other oiran for me, weren’t you? I just wondered when you’d show up…I was so, so afraid when the mistress told me I was going to be married off…I prayed and prayed you’d save me again.”

“What? No, NO!” In a flash he grabbed her by the throat and pinned her to the wall, breathing erratically as his hand gripped his sickle tight enough to crush rocks. “I’m not - I’m not saving you! You’re not supposed to be like this! I’m a disgusting demon, you stupid dunce, I’m ugly-”

“I don’t think you are.”

Gyutaro searched her face frantically for any indication she was bullshitting him. This was everything he wanted and nothing he understood. His fingers tightened their hold. She had to be lying.

She wasn’t. Her lips curved up gently and a fang poked out. “I think you’re like me.”

[cry-ptidd]

Always been a bit confused on Laura past, you hint here and there, something about a nunnery and how that made despise God and the church. So, what exactly happened to her to make the way she did. Also was Hans the one who bit her or some other werewolf?

Alright, I do realize most people might not be aware of her story considering I never really made a post about it and I deleted the fic of her backstory bc I didn't like it, so I'll summarize it here!

And no, she wasn't bitten by Hans. She is older than him by half a century or so

Laura's backstory/timeline masterpost

⚠️⚠️ TW for: sexual assault, religious abuse, victim blaming, emotional abuse, and VERY long babbling

1735 - Human life:

Laura is the eldest daughter of Jean Chastel and Anne Charbonnier. She was born in Gévaudan (now in the department of Haute-Loire) on the 24th of December 1735.

She was her father's favorite child, due to her and her mother surviving a difficult birth. This also led to her mother putting her a bit aside considering her father doted on her "like a son", taught her to read and write, and allowed her to not marry due to her disinterest in men (they both just thought she was chaste because of religion) and work with him in the fields, at the inn and other places. She learned French and Occitan.

Laura was brought up catholic, as most people in 18th century France, but she was particularly devout and religious. She was teased as a child for it, spending a lot of time in church and confessionals, which didn't help because her father didn't have the best reputation (he was nicknamed "de la masca", Occitan for "of the witch".) She started to pick up on Latin, though it was extremely rudimentary. Her overly religious attitude annoyed her own family sometimes, and their lack of emotional support led her to become a bit naive and confide a lot in religious authority figures.

She was an extremely diligent girl, always making sure her chores were finished and her work wasn't interrupted. That led to her sometimes putting her own health at risk in harsh winters, or disregarding people's warnings.

1758 - Bite:

Early spring of 1758; Laura was 22 when she was herding cattle near a clearing. She ignored the warning of the other villagers of wolf sightings, because the attacks were rare and she had a cattledog with her anyway. However, it turns out the villagers were right - safe for a few details.

Laura was attacked by a feral werewolf that scratched her stomach and bit her on the forearm after she put it up to not let it tear her throat out. A few of the village men were alerted by the commotion of her yells, the dog and cattle, and they managed to drive the werewolf off before it could devour her.

Sadly, she was now infected, and it showed, when in the next two weeks she was writhing in agony at the transformation that somehow healed her wounds and left big, ugly scars. People were starting to be afraid, wondering what the hell was going on. Her father was running around trying to find doctors with what money he had. Most locals dismissed the idea of a werewolf and thought she just had rabies, but the symptoms picked up by the doctors didn't support that hypothesis. Laura herself was going through it, spending hours upon hours of praying and reciting scripture and reading the Bible in hopes of a cure. The locals started to treat it as something you shouldn't talk about, considering how odd and ugly the details were, and people were avoiding the building where she was kept.

After about a month of very painful confusion, after her condition started to appear more supernatural than medical, Jean decided 'fuck it' and stuffed her in a carriage with a couple other men, before bringing her to a remote abbey.

1758 - The abbey:

Laura was brought to a remote Benedictine monastery, where 12 monks resided. She was welcomed at first, with suspicion of demonic possession, and given a room in the sub-level of the abbey.

Exorcism and purification rituals were routine, as well as the already implemented practices of the abbey. Laura was very willing to go with all of it, putting her trust in them, especially considering her awful mental state at that point.

However, about six months in, one of the men there went to her room at night and assaulted her. The others were alerted because of the commotion during imposed hours of silence. When they were found out, though, she was the one blamed for "seducing" the monk, because he was one of the "most devout" of them. A small scuffle ensued, and the abbot decided to give them both a "pardon" as long as they did a bit more service as penance, since they were "both in the wrong". After this, her relationship with the monks soured more and more.

The exorcisms stopped after a year in or so, since they saw no signs of improvement (and judged her no threat). She was however to stay at the monastery for the safety of others. Laura felt terribly alone, considering not only the fact that the abuse continued in secret but also that she was treated as basically a feral dog to be wary of, and just being a lost young woman surrounded by men that started to look at her with contempt. She considered escaping several times in her stay; however, each time she was either caught trying to sneak out or was too scared to go with it, fearing judgement from God for disobedience.

The abuse became well known some years in, but once again no one did anything, either being told by the abbot to keep it down and not talk about filth within the house of God, or spoken about by a handful of the men who took advantage of her fear and silence to vent out their frustrations. Their initial duty towards her was basically brushed aside and discarded, and they kept her around and subjugated for fear of her condition. Her lack of menstruation and fertility (because of the lycanthropy) were also attributed to her being a "wicked creature", that she needed to stay in here to be forgiven by God, or else her resistance to holy cleansing would be noticed by the Lord.

This went on for years. 6 years, 5 months and 13 days to be exact, of Laura begging for God's help and mercy, which at first was her begging for a cure to her condition so she'd be in His graces again, to her wanting it just so she could escape the abbey, to eventually praying for the monks not to hurt her anymore or at least lose interest, to her just begging to die because she was so afraid and hungry from not getting any of the meat that her body demanded (of course, she couldn't die of starvation or sickness, thanks to regeneration). Her biggest fear was that she was beginning to doubt God. Her faith in the monks was completely dead by the fifth year, but she was also starting to doubt anyone would save her. She also started to despise her father for bringing her here in the first place.

This all culminated to one night, after the monastery doors were closed, when one of the monks had just finished his little "escapade" in her room. He was about to get out and she got up, barely dressed and dirty, and started to call him out. He slapped and started to berate her, but she didn't listen, and jumped at him. His screams and pleas were ignored, because the others learned not to mind them. She devoured him, and all her pent up rage and fear turned into bloodlust, as she mauled each one of them and devoured them like cattle. Nothing but scraps of bone were left by the morning. This is when she got enough strength for her first transformation. By now, her fear of God turned into sheer resentment, spite and hatred, and she felt no apprehension at disobeying Him- in fact, she was going to do it on purpose, because He can go fuck Himself for not helping a helpless, desperate girl that was suffering right under His nose by His own men, especially when Laura had been such a devout Christian for so long.

1765 - Escape, start of the killings:

Laura broke out of the abbey in her wolf form, embracing her anger completely (for lack of any other emotion that served any purpose other than wanting to let herself die). She ventured out until she found civilization (eating a few travelers on the way), and found a young girl, Marie-Jeanne Valet, herding cows. She wanted to be discreet, but the reminder of her own human self (that she came to despise), and lunged at her. However Laura was driven off by the girl who managed to wound her with a homemade spear she was carrying to defend herself from the other wolf stalking the area (the same one that bit Laura). This drove Laura off, and what officially sparked the start of the hysteria.

Laura never transformed back into a human form for the duration of the terror. About a hundred deaths were attributed to her, but she killed way more in actuality.

In September 1765, Marie-Jeanne's recount of the attack and the subsequent hysteria reached the ears of the king, who sent one of his hunters, François Antoine, to kill the beast with his soldiers. However, they only killed the other werewolf in the area, which left Laura without a rival for food and did not stop the slaughter.

Battues and hunts were routine by now. Laura relished in outsmarting/overpowering each faction sent after her, starting to kill out of spite rather than food, picking off the weak and vulnerable and taunting the hunters by shrugging off their bullets like it was nothing, and her skin was starting to go from toughened to just impenetrable. Some preachers were talking about how the beast was a sign of the end of times, or how it's a punishment sent by God, and it made her so mad to be affiliated to Him that she ate those guys in broad daylight.

1767 - end of the terror:

This continued until the 19th of June 1767, when Jean Chastel took the head of a hunt for the beast, accompanied by a few men and their hounds.

It was three days of stalking and tracing, with a few bodies the beast left uneaten specifically to taunt them, until they stumbled on her in a clearing.

Laura mauled two of the hunters accompanying Chastel. Jean, however, had noted that normal weapons didn't seem to do much damage to it. So, a week prior, he had melted a silver medallion of the Virgin Mary into a mullet for his rifle. While the beast prepared to turn around and attack him, he cocked his rifle, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The bullet went through its left shoulder and out the chest; its howl resonated through the forest when it fell, and the hunting hounds were quick to attack as it limped off. Jean got a good look in the beast's eyes when he shot it, and familiarity washed over him- a feeling that would haunt him on his deathbed.

Laura, on the other hand, limped off into the forest and turned back into a woman for the first time in a couple years. Her heart had been shot out by the silver, and she was severely wounded; by all accounts she should've died, since silver is the one thing werewolves are weak to.

But somehow, she didn't, either out of sheer spite and stubbornness or because of a twisted joke by the universe.

Records of a "Laura Chastel" were scrapped from the archives on Jean's own request, likely out of guilt, and the more supernatural elements of the attacks were dismissed as rumors of scared, superstitious crowds.

1769 to 1995 - pre-Hellsing:

It took Laura over a year to properly recover her strength. This attack had not only done her body grievous damage, but also her psyche, at seeing her own father be the one to attempt and kill her- she already resented him, but it added a whole new layer of damage.

This also knocked her anger and arrogance down a couple of pegs. She had grown too greedy and reckless, and retaliation had been inevitable, which is a lesson she learned from that.

So, she grew more discreet and learned to be a proper wild animal - stay out of sight, snatch your prey, leave the area, stalk the shadows.

During the French Revolution, she recovered a lot of strength, due to eating and stealing the dumped bodies of those executed by the revolutionaries. She didn't care for the ideology or the impact on civilization at all, considering she grew to dislike humans and see them as her natural enemies/predators, but she did enjoy the chaos because it took any attention off her.

Her early years were more of her staying in the wilderness, only approaching humans either to eat, or to take her boredom off by seducing women - which she got better at doing overtime.

Late 19th and early 20th century she had started to come closer to civilization. She picked up a penchant for drinking, despite not being able to get drunk, and was often seen as a strange, shady homeless woman. In towns, she would pretend to be passed out in lone alleys to attract men and get a quick snack. She would also sometimes seduce women just to use their showers for warm water or get some clothes.

In ww2, she didn't do much out of her routine. During the invasion of France, she didn't care much for what was happening, but grew quite annoyed with the invading forces. She ate quite a lot of nazis, especially those camping in forest areas or those that came to bother her when she was in town, and made sure to avoid getting attention drawn to her. Most of the deaths were attributed to local resistance.

1995 - Battle against Alucard and invitation to Hellsing:

in the early spring of 1995, Laura had made the mistake of leaving the corpses of two British hikers in a place where they could be found, and another one of killing a Protestant pastor. The affair reached Hellsing, who saw the hints of possible supernatural threat in the case.

Alucard was sent to the town where the pastor had been killed, to investigate. Laura sensed the danger from miles away (a bit of a given, he has a freaky aura), and tried to lose him in the crowd. After failing and seeing him keep up the trial, she lured him out into the woods where they wouldn't be disturbed.

The fight started at around 11pm, in the middle of the woods. Laura knew he wasn't a normal person at first sight of course, but she didn't know the extent of Alucard's powers or of Hellsing at all. She had dealt with a few vampires that infringed on her territory already, but they were easy game, so she just opted to tear his head off and be done with it. Alucard, being the asshole gentleman he is, humored her and let her tear him to shreds to give her false hope and then reform as if nothing had happened. Laura was kinda freaked out by this when he did, but the shock quickly wore off because it just began to piss her off.

The real fight started when he pulled out the Casull. Laura knows silver is her weakness, and even if she grew somewhat of a mild resistance over the years she's not one to experiment. Alucard was starting to get interested after the first thirty minutes of her holding her own against him. He taunted her the entire time of course, but he grew more and more intrigued because of how fun she was to fight, and her abilities were obviously above any average werewolf. When she transformed, it was double the excitement because now he gets to brawl with a kaiju.

The fight went on for hours. Dawn was approaching when they were both starting to tire, and Alucard decided to end it. After many efforts, he aligned the gun and shot her straight in the heart, making her fall mid-attack and transform back into a human.

She was writhing in agony on the floor, literally clinging to life with teeth and nails, and Alucard started to approach her. He admitted to a good fight, and did his whole speech thing after he beats an opponent he likes, but his bravado was interrupted when she grabbed onto his leg to hoist herself up. He was surprised into silence for a moment, seeing the fire in her eyes, not only that but seeing her alive, because she's not going to get killed by this asshole, not now, not ever, and God help her if she allows him to harm her like this-

Alucard caught her when she lost consciousness, seeing her still not die despite the gaping hole where her heart should be. He pauses, and decides this is just too interesting an opportunity to pass up.

1995-1999 - pre-canon:

Laura woke up three days after in one of the guest bedrooms in the mansion, cleaned, tended and dressed in one of Alucard's shirts. Speaking of, he was sitting in the room waiting for her to wake up, like he did with Seras.

Laura was confused out of her mind, and thought she actually died because no fucking way. A brief verbal scuffle ensued (mostly on Laura's end), before he left the room to report to Integra, and also to tell her he drank Laura's blood to access her memories, just to make sure she wasn't affiliated with Millenium or anything related, considering the last time he saw a werewolf was the Captain, and instead found a goldmine of information on werewolves and the mystery of the beast of Gévaudan, and considered it would be a great new addition to Hellsing's arsenal. He had left Laura in the room alone, assuming she was too weak to do anything.

She wasn't, apparently, because Walter came in a dozen minutes later to say he had to wire her up after she tried to escape again and almost mauled one of the guards (but ultimately left no injury).

Integra was pissed, so she went to have a little chat. Laura said she'd comply if Walter and Alucard left, leaving them face to face.

Integra explained her situation, who she was and what was going to happen. Basically, Laura had two choices: either she joins and swears her civility in the organization, or Alucard finishes her off after they gather what information they need from her body. Laura was kind of pissed at being put between a rock and a hard place, but Integra also promised, if she were to choose the former and be obedient, to ensure her safety and protection, as well as feeding and clothing her. The added bonus that her bodily autonomy would be respected and that their rival is the Catholic Church is what tipped the scales.

Laura accepted to join, and a few weeks later she was assigned the role of a maid. Integra had to report her existence to her superiors, of course, but decided to keep her a secret from her enemies, so she gave her a seemingly inconspicuous position. It also helped because Laura, due to her trauma in the abbey, has trouble staying inside or being stuck in rooms without doing anything, and it occupies her because she's already pretty good at cooking and cleaning from helping her father out at his inn some two centuries ago. Integra had given her a small silver cross to wear, an artifact made by Van Helsing from melted medallions of St. Patrick, that acted as a much weaker version of Alucard's seals.

This was the start of her life at Hellsing, that she actually grew to somewhat appreciate because of not having to worry for survival every day. She started out as cold and hostile, but eventually allowed Integra and Walter to come a bit closer to her. She sees Walter as a pretty alright man since he knows not to push her and is very respectful, and she grew more and more intrigued by Integra as a person, which resulted in (quite unhealthy) romantic feelings towards her for the simple reason that Integra treats her as a living thing. The cross also became more of a decoration than anything over time.

She mostly takes care of the mansion, but sometimes can go out and decimate some ghouls for enrichment. Anyone that tries to break in and manages to get past the guards also finds themselves face to face with her.

By now she is only loyal to Integra (not even the organization, only because Integra is there) and obeys her because of her own willingness and feelings, and Walter is maybe her favorite coworker. She sees Alucard as a bothersome fellow fucked up creature, and still hasn't forgiven him for drinking her blood without her consent but overall tolerates him most of the time. Seras is a new addition; Laura sees her as a very naive and inexperienced girl, and maybe underestimates and infantilizes her a bit, but overall doesn't mind her presence. She despises the Iscariot with no exception, and Millenium by default.

That brings her to the current timeline, let's hope nothing bad happens.

[anonymous-dentist]

Werewolves are born when a son is born after a couple had 6 daughters, but it can be prevented if the kid is baptized by the oldest daughter before their first transformation when they reach the age of 13. The werewolf can also spread it around by their blood or bites!

They don't transform according to the moon cycle, and instead transform weekly on the night between thursday and friday, but on lent(Is this right? Im relying on the powers of google translate for this one) their transformation gets a little out of whack. Their transformation also has some little rituals they must do before they transform that includes: knotting 7 knots on their shirts and rolling on dirt. Peeing on the shirt optional.

To cure a werewolf is a pain in the ass, so say it mildly. So first, you can stab it with a steel blade, but you can only make them bleed a single drop of blood. This also varies, some say it can cure while others say it only brings the werewolf back to their human form. Other way is to stab them with the thorn of a orange tree that was planted in a graveyard and/or on a friday. All of this while they are on their beast form.

So… thats a little something? Brazil is very big and the folklore has lot of variations, so some things may not fit other the tales of other regions, but I still think this is quite a good number of nuggets of trivia.

(Pt.2 and final)

Okay so, fun fact, not everyone in the Brazilian Werewolf Pack is a Brazilian-style werewolf!

I’ve done some research, and I’ve decided that traditional European werewolves and Brazilian werewolves- Lobisomem- are different creatures. For reference, Pac, Mike, and Felps are Lobisomem. Forever was human, but he got bit by a werewolf when visiting his sister in France in college and so he’s Different. (He’s not like other wolves)

I’ve been kinda mixing and matching Brazilian werewolf lore in my fic just because it’s REALLY hard to track down specific canons in English. But I’ve asked some Brazilian people and I’ve looked around in some websites and books, and here’s what I’ve more or less settled on:

Pac was bit and turned because he was kind of wasted one night and he tried petting a ‘dog’. Said ‘dog’ was Mike. They’re besties fr

The three Lobisomem chill with the weekly transformations (see: Cellbit commenting one time in the fic that he helped clean blood out of Felps’ car every weekend), but they also go out on the full moon with Forever so he doesn’t get lonely

Forever trying to stab Cellbit with that ‘Holy Stick’ in chapter 4 came from what I found on a website that I’m not sure google translated properly? It basically said that someone could be cured by being injured by a Holy Thing within 12 days of them being bitten, and Forever is friends with Max, who is “friends” with Sapo Peta, who is quite literally a demigod and who had pretty easy access to Holy Things

The Guys thought about turning Cellbit back in prison when they were all briefly getting along, but then they realized that A) he was somehow already baptized despite the Everything about him and thus lowkey immune to Lobisomem Things and B) he was kind of a fucking maniac

Richarlyson is baptized, but, just in case, Cellbit usually gets custody of him on Fridays and on the full moon. Unless he looks particularly Rough. Then they give Richas to Bad or Baghera to watch. (This is unfortunately common considering who Cellbit is as a person)

Forever, as previously stated, is a traditional European werewolf because he got his dumb ass bitten by a French Werewolf. So he does the usual once a month thing. He chills

[violetlens]

i like to think the ghoulettes + ghouls keep a sibling around just to taunt, getting off on the fear they keep getting consumed by from not knowing whether or not they plan on killing them tonight

murder ghouls, current ghoulettes + swiss + aether centric, dark content obviously, gn oc, no real traits except for (randomly generated sibling of sin) working out and not being stupid 800 words

swiss had been the one to get the rest of the pack on board, talking about how he wanted a challenge, someone who wasn't so easy for a change.

the sibling they'd picked out wasn't weak, not in any useful way. they were too alert, too much time spent in the gym, too much of them knowing when not to let themselves be alone in a room. the pack enjoyed it nonetheless, seeing the way they'd whip their head around before scurrying somewhere safe, or even the way they'd struggle against a hand holding them down, on their neck, their wrists.

mountain made his attempt first, giving up nearly instantly as he watched them take a few steps closer to a flower he'd sprouted before taking a second look at it and deciding to head back into the abbey. rain, phantom, and dew initially took it as a challenge, quickly growing annoyed with how the sibling they'd picked out started avoiding them. they'd taken to putting one of the emeritus brothers or another sibling between them and whoever had been 'wanting to catch up with them'.

they'd always somehow inch themselves towards a room with people in it when they'd see violet in their periphery, whenever the ghoulettes sounded a bit too tempting to them. swiss would spend his nights frustrated whenever they'd turn on their heel back out of their room upon seeing something left for them in their bed, whenever he'd realize they'd cozied up with another sibling or papa for that night.

aether had given up on trying to get them alone a couple days into stalking them, when he drew them into his bed with his quintessence, went to sink his teeth into their shoulder, and got bitten back hard enough to draw blood. he drew back quickly, hand coming up to the bite on his neck as they sent a small, shaky smile back up at him, licking crimson from their teeth before rolling out of his bed and quickly making their way out.

swiss experienced that the exact same night, moaning frustratedly into a kiss aether had pulled him into before going off to follow the source of that taste. he followed them to the gym, heart pounding slightly faster in his chest whenever they'd increase their strides a bit, heading further away from him.

he'd used some of his own quintessence, only enough to raise some doubt in their mind. swiss smiled eagerly when he was met with a shaky, 'that isn't a good idea,' before making his way over to the pull up bar they were hanging from and kissing them. he gave a small gasp when he tasted them before feeling his mood plummet when they opened their eyes, begrudgingly turned their head, pulled away, and walked past him and out of the room.

cumulus would follow them more than anyone else, licking over her fangs in excitement at how they'd keep looking over their shoulder, would make a sudden turn into a different room upon feeling a gust of wind that wasn't meant to be there. she and cirrus would sing sometimes, taking delight in the way they'd rear back, terror gracing their features for a bit before they'd wrench themselves away from any danger.

cirrus knew they'd leave the ghouls too soon for them to actually have a chance at harming them. she liked to hunt with cumulus, always using their voices and air magic to lure the siblings to their deaths. she tried it again tonight, closing the doors to the chapel and creating gusts of wind, loud enough that they hurried out only to be met with cirrus on the other side of the doors. she basked in the few seconds of horror she could smell in their scent before they uttered a low, 'excuse me,' smiled, and brushed past her.

sunshine would toy with them, get closer in terms of stalking. she'd feel the joy knifing through her as they'd let her crowd them, smiling back at her before stepping to her side and leaving. they'd always mention how much they wanted to hear her voice as they walked towards the door, choosing not to hide the slight tremor in their hands.

aurora was the only one who got to cut them, even if she knew it was with the promise of them being able to walk out of that room. her heart pounded in her chest, excited shudders wracking her frame as she watched them work their habit down enough to bare their neck.

she settled in their lap, fangs sinking into their neck before she started drinking. she'd smile into their throat whenever she'd feel a muscled thigh bump up against her, whenever their hips would twitch upwards in search of her. aurora would whimper whenever she'd taste the beginnings of fear leaking into their blood, pressing their bodies closer together as her eyelids would flutter.

aurora would let them go as soon as she'd begin to feel herself yearn for more, for the feeling of their heartbeat weakening. one of the girls, occasionally swiss, mountain, or aether, would kiss it out of her mouth later, lick her teeth clean as both of them would groan at the taste bursting over their tongues.

[doodloos]

New Oc Alert!

Me and my friends were joking around and we all ended up making werewolf-cowboy ocs, so here's mine! His name is Felix "Bullet-Tooth" Edwards, and I adore him.

backstory and alt-pic under the cut :)

Backstory

Felix was once the Sheriff of a small town in Missouri as well as a husband and father. Beloved by his family and town, he was known for getting the job done and keeping his town safe, that is, until one man came to town. Edwards' town was a common passing town for many people heading west, so he was used to seeing new faces fairly often including the odd outlaw. More often than not, they were thieves, conmen, and debtors on the run for crimes they had committed further east. He could usually tell they were outlaws because they avoided him and his deputies like the plague and were gone sooner after they arrived. On occasion, he had to arrest one or two, but for the most part they kept their heads down and left pretty quickly, so he let them be. On first glance, this man was no different, but Felix would soon find out that he was more trouble than he seemed. 

For one, the man never seemed to leave like others passing through, and Felix and his deputies eventually began to notice people going missing. After a couple months of searching, Edwards had finally gotten enough evidence to pin this unwelcome traveler for the disappearance and murder of several people. However, when they finally stood off he began to realize he may have bitten off more than he could chew. Werewolves were not unheard of in Missouri, but certainly not near as common as they were out west. And now here was one in the flesh, completely transformed under the light of a full moon. Felix originally had no intention of killing the man, but given the circumstances, he drew his gun. 

The fight was dangerous and difficult, but Felix managed to win, killing the beast, but not before being bitten himself. Disoriented and fairly maimed, he managed to hobble home, but when he woke up, he was met with the horrific sight of his entire family dead. He didn’t remember anything after getting home, and he barely remembered that, but he did remember the fight beforehand, and realizing he had been bitten, he came to the conclusion that it must have been him who killed his family. It only made sense. There had been a full moon, and considering he was newly bitten and badly wounded, he wouldn’t have been able to control himself. Realizing this, he sobbed over the bodies of his family; his wife, his beloved Clara, his teenage daughter, Suzanne, and his son Henry who had only just turned seven. 

He knew that his deputies would be by any minute to check on him after the night before, so he needed to act fast and leave as quickly as possible. He wasn’t sure where he would go or what he would do, but one thing was for sure; he couldn’t stay there. Quickly, he packed his things, taking only a few pairs of clothes, some food to hold him over to the next town, and the gold locket his wife wore containing a family portrait of the four of them. After he was packed, he buried his family, leaving a handful of flowers and his sheriff’s badge at the foot of their graves. After that night, Felix Edwards was never heard of in the state of Missouri again. 

Where is He Now

Felix fled as far as he could before stopping in the panhandle of North Texas. In his travels, he often asked farmers if he could stay the night in their barn and possibly work the next day or two for a little money before leaving further west. However, he reached what seemed to be his final destination after coming to a farm run by an old cattle rancher. The old man was having trouble with some of his cattle turning up dead under “mysterious circumstances” and told Edwards if he was able to figure out what was happening, he was welcome to stay in his barn and work for him as a ranch-hand full time. Felix, unable to turn the man down, did some investigating and found that some local vampires had been running off with the man’s cattle in the night and draining them of their blood. As a sheriff, Felix had seen his fair share of vampires, as they were also much more common up east, but now that he was a werewolf, he was also much more equipped to handle them. He went back to the old man and offered to work night shifts watching over the cattle, and that’s exactly what he does (he’s basically a giant cattle dog). The old man was also the first and one of the only people he ever told about him being a werewolf.

Buck Bailey

A few months after first arriving at the ranch, the old farmer hired a new ranch hand to “work the night shift.” Felix quickly learned that this new co-worker was a young man by the name of Buck Bailey, another werewolf that had recently turned and left his home after losing his father. Felix was originally skeptical of the new hire. He didn’t necessarily hate all werewolves, but after his experiences, he was wary to work with others like him. However, over the coming weekend, he grew fond of Buck, despite Buck also being really annoying to him. He was endearing in a way though, and in certain aspects, reminded him of the two kids he had lost. He would never tell Buck this directly, but he admires him, and enjoys having him as someone to work with.

“Bullet-Tooth” Edwards

Felix received the nickname “Bullet-Tooth” Edwards after a close encounter with an outlaw passing through his new hometown. The story goes that the man was a murderer. He saw Edwards and immediately challenged him to a shoot-off. He turned him down, however, the man drew his gun anyway and shot him straight in the mouth, but instead falling dead, Felix caught the bullet between his teeth and spit it out on the ground before shooting the killer between his eyes. 

Whether this story is true or not is up for speculation. Buck likes to spread the story like wildfire, and while Felix usually tells him to stop, he also doesn’t deny anything. Whether it’s because the story is true or just because it keeps people from talking to him is up for interpretation.

[im-captain-basch]

I may have listened to my brain on this one.

I may play around with the idea, but won't go as hard into it as the other two AUs I've been working on, at least not until more progress on them have been made. That being said, here's some thoughts on a DKC Tower of Terror AU:

Combines aspects from the ride Twilight Zone: Tower of Terror and the made for TV movie from 1997, with a little bit of the more original-story version of the ride from Tokyo DisneySea thrown in for ~flavor~.

Dixie and Diddy are wearing the masks because of all the dust and whatnot so as to prevent themselves from getting sick or worse.

Hotel that was abandoned suddenly following the disappearance of a group of people in an elevator that is also potentially haunted by those same people? Sounds like grounds ripe for urban exploration and amateur ghost hunting.

The hotel, as it currently stands, is owned by Cranky and NOT opened for visitors in any form. For years, no one knew for sure why he fought the city when they'd send notices for it to be torn down.

Diddy and Dixie take the opportunity to explore it after finding themselves in trouble multiple times for splitting off from tour guides of other supposedly haunted and abandoned locations to do their own exploring. Can't get in trouble if you use your connections to the guy who owns it to avoid trespassing laws.

(You absolutely can. DK makes sure of it.)

They find evidence of the ghosts, but don't believe who it could be until they run into people who either worked or stayed there during the hotel's heyday and realize they may have bitten off more than they could chew.

Swanky and Candy are the two adult celebrities who disappeared in the elevator. They weren't a couple, rather they were very good friends. Kiddy was the child star, who often worked alongside them. Due to their frequent performances with one another, the three formed something of a found family.

Swanky is bitter and angry about the incident, but ultimately harmless. Candy spends her time wandering the hotel's corridors, fantasizing about it still being lively and trying to pretend their group isn't stuck in limbo. Kiddy doesn't understand what happened, nor why anyone who's entered the building over the years seems terrified when he makes his presence known.

(I haven't any idea on who takes the nanny and bellhop roles, lmao.)

All three of the ghosts get slightly happy when mortals intrude into what is essentially their spiritual tomb because it means a break in their isolation, but grow resentful and fall deeper into their own antics the second they scare them away.

Dixie wants to help them, but isn't sure how to go about it. Diddy isn't so certain it's a good idea, but goes along with it while also unintentionally roping DK as well as Dixie's sister Tiny into the mix.

Cranky, who as it turns out used to work in the hotel, tells them what he remembers about what happened that night in 1939 and that it was him finding the ghosts in the early '40s that prompted him to buy the hotel and refuse to let it be torn down, popping in every so often himself so its inhabitants can have at least one interaction with a living being without that person leaving at least slightly traumatized.

(Their interactions didn't always end this way, he's just gotten used to them being ghosts in the decades since their first encounter.)

Together, the group of five attempts to form a plan to figure out what caused the lightning to strike the elevator and trap the five souls who were onboard at the time within the hotel's walls, ultimately aiming to allow them to finally move on.

[mymelodyisme]

Dream:

I and a bunch of girls and boys were a part of a reality tv show where they were up in a plane sectioned off into two main rooms and two side rooms flying over an island with a volcano.

The objective was to be the last one or last few standing over the course of a couple of days.

None of us really know what was in store.

The girls had the left side of the plane and the boys the right, but we both boarded on the same platform.

At first everyone was happy and having fun they let us explore the beach a bit and bring on some souvenirs. It started off normal enough, we did some games and got to know each other and lost games etc.

Then they let us off the plane on the island for a few minutes of free time, which they did frequently thereafter.

And that’s when everything bad began to happen.

When we reloaded onto the plane some of the contestants complained that they weren’t feeling well. We didn’t think anything of it at first but they started to get oddly hungry. They looked at the rest of us like we were slabs of meat. As we all sat in the lounge the speakers overhead rang with the familiar voice of our host, a woman.

She explained that our friends who were ill weren’t just sick, but dying from a zombie virus they invented. The only way to survive was to successfully terminate the threat or throw them off the plane at the next landing.

We all turned to the girls who were infected. They didn’t want to die. They cried as were comforted by their friends and the rest of us backed into the bedding space. We were trying to convince ourselves it was all a cruel joke, but the one of the girls started to salivate and tried to bite her friend.

We were able to restrain them long enough until we came down towards the island where they were thrown off of the plane into the waters below. We landed and tried to make sense of the situation with the boys.

Again we were told to get back into the plane. We got on and all the girls huddled together in the bedding space. This is when the fighting began. Some wanted to find a way to prevent the spreading of the virus. Some wanted to lock the infected away. Some wanted to kill them. And some were just trying to figure out why it was happening.

Eventually more girls started getting sick and were shoved into the bathroom to avoid spreading the virus.

At the next landing there were significantly less people. No one had any idea what to do. The time to talk was cut short though, as the zombies that were thrown off the plane were beginning to come up the shore. The boys hoisted the girls up first.

One girl helped her best friend back on, but immediately that friend toppled over and began to cough. An argument broke out immediately about how that girl was sick and shouldn’t be allowed on. But it was the late the plane was about to take off again. The boys got on and we all went back in.

In the lounge the girl sat in the corner. She was sweating and pale and her eyes icy. She didn’t want to kill anyone but was getting hungry. She was able to fight it off for a while.

I slipped into the bedding space with my friend. She came closer and told me that she thinks she’s been infected. She doesn’t want to try to figure it out and tells me to throw her off at the next landing. I think I have enough time but she starts to turn very quickly. She comments on the smell of human flesh, mine in particular because we’re friends.

She grabs my arm and attempts to bite me a few times. I hit her over the head and she comes back to. She didn’t last long.

When I wasn’t looking she had gotten way worse. Now crawling around on the floor she attempted to bite me nonstop. It was at this point that I realized we wouldn’t be landing anytime soon and I stood in the lounge, raised the sleeve of my pink sweater, and told her to bite me gently. She leapt at me along with the first girl and another and I was bitten in my side and other arm.

The pain was excruciating, but only for a moment. It felt like I was being burned, but then it didn’t. Everything was a blur until it wasn’t. And then it was too late.

The wall super sting boys from girls was gone and I was gone for a while.

When I came back to i was pushed towards where the zombies are thrown off. I remember jumping down.

Next thing I know I’m heading down to my home, but my family tells me to leave. I walk past them and towards a tall church like building.

[whimsicalmeerkat]

With the exception of a couple of asks on a fic where I’m still trying to decide where to go next, I’m caught up on these. Time to get more!

Filenames:

wash off all this blame - Sterek goes to the beach

Launch the Ship event fic

won’t you take me from this valley - Regency time travel nonsense

fellcubs fic

Stackson friendship movie fixit

Snippet from wash off all this blame:

“When I left Beacon Hills, I planned to put the supernatural behind me. That isn’t quite how things worked out. It turned out the supernatural wasn’t done with me. I found myself drawn into researching problems people were having and eventually realized I might as well start charging people for the work instead of just doing it for free.”

“Sucker,” Jackson mutters. He makes an ‘oof’ sound right after. Lydia looks calm and innocent, which means she elbowed him.

“Go on, Stiles,” she commands.

“A couple years ago, I ran across a rogue alpha who was terrorizing a small town. He’d bitten a teenager who had no idea what was going on. Even if I hadn’t already been doing the sort of work I do, I would have helped. No one deserves to go through what we did.”

Stiles pauses to take a gulp of wine. He looks down into his glass, rolling the stem back and forth between his fingers.

“Unfortunately, the idiot teen had gone feral. There were a couple more wolves I hadn’t known about, and in the chaos the alpha bit me. I didn’t know which one of them bit me until it healed a couple hours later.”

“So you’re a werewolf? You don’t smell like one,” Jackson says.

“Ten points to the lizard wolf. I’m not a werewolf. No, apparently something of the nogitsune stuck around, so I’m actually some sort of werefox who can still do magic. No one’s quite sure how it happened and there’s been a lot of discussion of what it means among the kind of people who like to assign meaning to random bullshit.”

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!

Friends @fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike

@obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @anonymousdandelion @geometricfractal @prettybirdy979

@eriquin | Requests @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @1attheedge

@whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes @skyderman @adhdavinci

@owlbearwrites @anachronismstellar @anyctibius @rilannon @lazinesswrites

@zyrafowe-sny @dreaminghour @blue-eyedbeta @candyskiez @dreamerking27

@kalira @virgulesmith @i-want-delfeur @selkies-world @exceedinglygayotter

[palimpsessed]

Hey. You post a lot of great stuff about Carry On. Can you talk about the biting in AWTWB. The Baz/Simon scenes.Trying to wrap my head around it to understand why Simon did that. Why he bites Baz and keeps biting. Bites his fangs through his cheek. Is it because Simon wants to be bitten? That he wants Baz so much and Baz can't be harmed? I'm really trying to understand it but . . . what do you think?

Anon, thank you for this ask, and also for liking whatever I'm doing on my blog.

Can I talk about the biting? You bet I can!

Why does Simon bite Baz? Is it because he wants to be bitten? In a word, yes! But of course, there's a lot more to it than that. And this went off in another direction than I thought it would, so I hope you can stick with me on this journey! Under the cut because it’s a bit long.

There is a motif running throughout the trilogy of love being a consuming force. So much of Simon and Baz's identities are tied up in hunger very early on: Baz, as a vampire, constantly craving blood; Simon, as the Humdrum, constantly sucking up magic; both of them starved of love and intimacy. There's also a lot of fire imagery, going all the way back to when they first met, and fire is another consuming force.

Simon and Baz are obsessed with each other. The only thing they think about is each other. ("Trying not to think about you…S'like trying not to think about an elephant that's standing on my chest.") They are consumed and they want to consume, and, at least in Simon's case, they want to be consumed.

In WS, Simon reflects on misunderstanding his feelings for Baz prior to eighth year, and the way he does it has always stuck out to me: "I thought about him all the time. I missed him so much in the summer. (I thought I was just lonely. I thought I was hungry. I thought I was bored.)" The second item on that list is what catches my attention. Simon missed Baz and he thought he was hungry. I think it says a lot about how Simon's love for Baz feels if he mistakes it for actual hunger.

In the biting scene you mentioned, Simon says to Baz: "If it were me, if I were you…I'd drain you fuckin' dry, Baz, and it still wouldn't be enough." That's intense. And it's absolutely Simon. We know how much hunger he's capable of; his hunger was so potent, it became a whole other being! I've long maintained that his hunger for magic is a metaphor for his hunger for love. Because Simon is so full of love, and just utterly bereft of people to give it to, and once he has people to love, he doesn't know how to do it without also hurting them. He's never had good relationship modeling. (He thinks Baz should know he loves him because of how many things he's killed for him.—He thinks about teaching Baz how to break someone's neck like it's a fun couples' activity.—He gets turned on by killing things and watching Baz kill, too.—Date night is helping Baz hunt down rats.) Simon is a mess. He wants to love so badly, but he just doesn't know how to do it. ("Is this what people do?")

Simon loves Baz so much, he can't fathom ever getting enough of him. Ever being able to consume enough of him. He can't stop biting and smelling and grabbing because he wants more, more, more. He fits his teeth over Baz's old scars because he needs to claim him—make his own mark on Baz, possess him.

Part of this, as you said, is the fact that Baz is a vampire. Baz can take the roughness (which is not to say that he should just because he can). Simon's fixation on Baz's vampirism, which used to play out as paranoia, has changed into a desire to be bitten. Simon is thinking about Baz's vampirism, thinking about draining Baz dry if he were the vampire, and Baz, the human.

The other part of this is that Simon is unfettered, but really only in the aggressive, physical sense. He's long hidden his desires behind aggression without realizing that's what he was doing. (In CO: "I just want to run him down and knock him over and figure it all out." In AWTWB: "I wanted to jump on you, I didn't really think past that.") He doesn't know how to be unfettered in the vulnerable, emotional sense, and that's what keeps him from being able to be intimate with Baz. ("I don't know how, Baz…To get enough.")

Simon desperately wants to have sex with Baz. Which is what he's trying to do in the biting scene, but all of his desires are warring for control, and he can't sort out what he wants, and what he should be doing in that moment, with Baz.

What this is all leading me to may be a bit off topic, but I think it's all tied up in Simon's head.

Simon doesn't know how to be gentle.

His hunger and his desire for Baz have never been gentle. It's aggression, it's violence, it's possession; it's a forest fire, it's not a hidden waterfall.

Simon has never learned how to be at peace. In a recent interview with Vanity Fair, Rainbow said she made Simon "fight of flight"—literally, he has wings! There's a reason that Simon couldn't handle the inaction at the beginning of CO and before the events of WS. There's a reason that Penelope thought that they were "being lulled" because there was no war actively being waged. There's a reason Penelope tells us in WS: "Lesson learned: Relaxation is the most insidious humdrum." These are characters who are so traumatized by childhoods being foot soldiers in a war waged by the adults they trusted, they don't know how to live without fighting! They don't know how to live in peace.

We all have "I can touch you less gently, but I won't love you less kindly" burned into our eyeballs by now, but let's move earlier in that conversation to what sparks this: "What if I asked you to be less kind to me?" —What if I asked you to be less kind to me?— Simon doesn't feel comfortable with Baz's kindness or gentleness, because it "makes me feel like I'm being turned inside out. Like I need to get away." Let's sit with this for a bit. Baz's loving touches make Simon want to run because they're kind and gentle and he doesn't know what to do with kind and gentle. His mind isn't programmed for kind and gentle.

It makes complete sense that Simon would show Baz affection in a way that Simon understands, considering, as I said before, that he hasn't had anyone in his life to show him a healthy way to do this. What does Simon most want from Baz? Love. What does Simon understand love to be? Consumption. He wants roughness and aggression, he wants the inferno, because these are things he understands.

Simon wants Baz's teeth, so he gives Baz his teeth.

This is how Simon feels comfortable. I made this post while processing my feelings about AWTWB. It talks about Simon trying to love Baz the way he wants to be loved, and Baz trying to love Simon the way he wants to be loved. They want to give each other everything, but they haven't actually communicated their needs to one another, and that's what keeps them from being able to work through their problems. It isn't until they voice their needs that they're able to be intimate. This is what I'm really trying to get at here.

"Is this what people do?" Simon asks, over and over again. When Simon was in therapy, he learned a technique to break up "life into bites you can swallow". He tells us he's doing this again in AWTWB "because [the future] is too terrifying. Too uncertain. There are parts of it that are too bright." —There are parts of it that are too bright.— Simon doesn't know how to be happy. He doesn't know how to cope with happiness. "Is this what people do when they're in love? Do they just keep touching and talking? And then what? Like what is it all leading to? I don't mean sex, I mean… If I knew what I meant, it wouldn't be so frightening." When Simon is having all these overwhelming feelings about his future with Baz, they're on the Tube, and Simon sees a guy giving him and Baz "a dirty look". He interrupts his introspective on therapy to tell us that he wants the guy to cause trouble "because I would dearly love to punch something right now. That's a decision I could wrap my brain around." He can wrap his brain around punching someone, but not around a bright future with the man he loves.

Simon doesn't know how to be at peace. He doesn't know how to be in love. He doesn't know how to be happy. I think this is what we're seeing at play when he bites Baz. He wants something so badly, but he doesn't know what it is, can't articulate it, can't get at it. In a way, when he bites Baz, Simon is trying to ask for what he wants, without words, and without really knowing what it is that he does want.

He can't figure out how to let himself be happy and feel good while being happy. He can't stand gentleness, or softness. In his head, he can't give that to Baz, because he can't handle it himself.

So, yes, Simon bites Baz because he wants to be bitten. And he bites Baz because he knows Baz can handle it. And he bites Baz because there's an emptiness inside of him that he's still trying to fill, and he doesn't understand how to do that. Someday, he will fill it. He and Baz are going to figure that out together.

I hope this makes sense. With your indulgence, Anon, I'm going to tag in @theflyingpeach who is all around brilliant, and I know has their own thoughts about this scene (and demon Simon 👀👀👀) that I would like to see more of. 🥰

A follow up to this ask can be found here.

Further reading on the relationship between consumption, food, and love compiled here.

[sushisempai]

Nessian Family Fluff cont. (5/?)

Started this here

continued it here

then some more here

then this bit here

Continue to have no apologies. Though I may have bitten off more than I could chew. But still not sorry. They’re all adorable.

---

“Dad, we need to talk.” Cortez said one night over dinner at the house of wind. Cassian was very used to Delphi calling him Daddy, and the boys calling him Dada. Only recently had the teen been referring to Cassian and his mate as Mom and Dad. Even then usually only when speaking to them directly and when he wanted them to pay attention. He still referred to them by name when speaking about them to others more often than not.

Cortez was still training in the camps and had just recently turned 14. It was these facts that were probably most relevant in the very serious discussion the young male wanted to have with his adoptive father. Cassian noted that Azriel was biting his lip eyes wide with humor. He clearly knew what Cortez was upset about. Nesta was focused on feeding the boys running around the table, their wings barely peeking above the surface at times. Gwyn just looked at Az with confusion.

Cassian, never serious when he didn’t have to be replied “Son, what is it that you want to talk about?” Now Nesta smirked as well. Ok, had he missed something? Julian ran up to Cassian who handed him a piece of roasted potato; even as Dorian ran up to Az and got a piece of carrot. 

Delphi was sitting at the table eating like a big girl. She was 4 and a half and speaking in full sentences, that most people still didn’t understand. Cassian and Cortez understood her better than most, even Nesta, and the suddenly, somehow mother of four, didn’t know how to feel about that.

Julian and Dorian were two years old now, their birthday not that far before Cortez’s, and seemed functionally incapable of sitting still. As a result they had taken to what Cassian jokingly referred to as “free ranging.” They would come up to the table and be handed a piece of food and run off to eat it as they played.

Cortez sat up a little straighter. “You patted me on the head.” his three emerald green siphon shone; one on each hand and a large on hanging heavy on a chain from his throat.

Cassian looked confused. “Probably… I feel like I do that every day. Probably multiple times a day…”

“You did it at the camp.” Cortez frowned. “Do you know how uncomfortable that was?”

Cassian furrowed his brows. “Ok.”

“Mom and Az get it. They leave me alone. I mean, yes, everyone pretty much knows you guys took me in. But they don’t need to be reminded of it, and certainly not by you treating me like a child!” Julian approached Cortez who looked at the boy with frustration even as he sighed and tickled the toddler's side to make him go away. Jules squealed and ran off.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie rotated teaching in the camps and in the training ring atop the house of wind. They had all taught together the first couple of weeks, giving the Valkyries in the library an optional vacation, but now that they had a routine established with the young females they easily rotated out.

“I need to leave you alone? Ignore you completely? I guess I didn’t think about it.” The boy was sincerely upset. Cassian had been about to smirk about the humor of the situation, embarrassing a teenager seem so normal and even fun, but he realized quickly that Cortez would not appreciate it. He honestly could not imagine what this situation would be like from the other side. He had no frame of reference. Finally he nodded at Cortez seriously. “What would you prefer?”

Because Cassian rotated checks between all the Illyrian training camps and war camps and because he also had other duties in Velaris and around the Night Court he didn’t really think about it. He was just himself, wherever he was, and if Cortez was there, he was happy to see his son. After almost five years he couldn’t think of Cortez as anything else but his son. Dorian approached Nesta and got a forkful of roast. When Julian saw this he also went to Nesta for a bit of roast.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Maybe ask Mom and Az what they do?” Cortez finally explained. He sigh and seemed to deflate. “I mean I know mean well, and you just see me and go Tez! like it’s Tuesday.”

“Tez, it is actually Tuesday.” He held a dinner roll out in each hand and just waited for them to be claimed by small hands.

“You know what I mean!” The boy shot back rolling his eyes. “You’re just so… well… you.” The boy shrugged. Azriel, Nesta, and Gwyn chuckled. The toddlers circled the table like little sea monsters.

Cassian put his hands up in a diffensive motion, the rolls now gone. “Ok, ok, I’ll do some homework with Az and Mom and see what I need to do to make you less uncomfortable when I do my check ins at your camp.” He went back to his food thoughtfully. “Do I really do that? I mean, I guess it makes sense but it also does seem like bad form…”

Az said quietly “You have always been the affectionate one brother. I think it’s only gotten worse now that you have all these children.” Azriel was watching the two boys continue circling the table munching on their rolls.

Nesta shook her head. “You can’t help yourself sometimes. I think it's an automatic response.”

“If it helps I usually like that you’re all affectionate and stuff…” Cortez managed to say before adding “Just not at the camps. Please.”

Cassian gave up, shaking his head and just laughing at himself. “What if I just came up and gave a hug, picked you up off the ground.” Cortez rolled his eyes, clearly not amused. “Or maybe it would be less weird if I was affectionate to all the trainees. Nesta, you hug the Valkyries right?” She smirked but ignored him otherwise.

Az added on “If you go around hugging the trainees, you’ll have to hug the camp masters too.”

Gwyn chimed in, “I would like to see that.” Delphi seemed to be trying to figure out what the joke was, eyebrows knit together in confusion as she looked around.

Eventually Cassian and Cortez were the only ones looking serious, Cassian working for it, Cortez chagrined. Finally Cortez relented and threw his arms up. “Make fun of me all you want, you know I’m right.” Now Delphi laughed. Something about Tez throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“Heh, sorry Tez, it’s just so unreal to me.”

Azriel thought for a moment. “You’re right. I know how I expect to see people acting in the camps and that is what I do. But I cannot imagine what it would be like.” 

Cassian explained to Cortez, who only knew about their histories in the most general terms and gossip around the camps. “The only ones who ever looked out for us were Rhys and his mother. His father barely tolerated us most days. The females can get away with a little more in the way of caring for the young ones. I never really thought about it but I don’t know what Dads are supposed to do… I guess I better figure it out though.” Cassian turned to his daughter who had food all around her mouth, even as most of it seemed to have made it into her stomach. “Bath and bed?” She said something Nesta could not understand and he responded “The boats are in the bath, the fishes we’ll have to find.”

Cortez sighed. “The fishes are in the boys room.” Cassian laughed, coming around the table and putting an arm around the boy’s shoulders so he couldn’t pull away and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Cortez made a face and pulled away but smiled. Cassian grabbed Delphi carrying her out of the room.

Cortez let put a long suffering sigh and said. “Mom, will you please rebraid my hair tonight?” as he stacked his dishes and put them out for the table to collect.

She nodded. “Wash it, then come find me.” Cortez excused himself from the table with that.

Keeping it in multiple braids close to his head was about the only thing that kept his thick mass of curls under control. She knew the hair was a trait of the Illyrian camps farther north and the style was also the fashion there. Nesta had always worn her own hair in braids and did alright keeping up with it. Even so Alis had taught her some new tricks.

Nesta looked to the couple still sitting at the table with her. And she was certain they were a couple, though it was never discussed. Gwyn was feeding Dor some bits of vegetable and Azriel was watching intently as she did so. Gwyn stayed at The House of Wind most nights now, Nesta knew, but the two of them were so private.

Az looked up and tried to avert the conversation he seemed to sense coming. “I do not miss being a teenager.” He said, nodding to where Tez had exited the room.

“Uh, huh.” She said with no real interest. She wasn’t having it. “Are you two ever going to bother telling me what exactly is going on with you.” Gwyn looked up to Nesta, suddenly blushing profusely.

“Nesta!”

“Don’t ‘Nesta!’ me! You are here all the time, Azriel looks lovesick constantly.” It was worse than when he was pouting about Mor all the time. Gwyn smirked and Azriel blushed.

Azriel ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you for that, Nesta.” She waved a hand as if to say it was nothing.

“We’re together if that is what you’re asking, anything else is none of your business.”Gwyn said tartly.

“I seem to recall someone asking me an awful lot of questions about Cassian.” Nesta quipped.

“You have me confused with Emerie I think.” Gwyn smiled back sweetly.

Azriel cut in. “I know more about you and Cassian than I ever wanted to know, thank you, and I didn’t ask. I refuse to return that particular faver.” It was Nesta’s turn to blush.

“I’m not your chaperone.” Nesta said to the shadow singer. “I’m curious more than anything, and maybe a little protective.”

Azriel put an arm around Gwyn. “No need for concern Ms. ‘not-a-chaperone’ though you're not convincing me you're not a chaperone.”

“Go ahead. Do what you like. Fuck on the table even.” Nesta smirked back at him, daring him to call her bluff even as it would undermine his goals. Gwyn turned so red Nesta almost felt bad. Almost.

---

When Julian and Dorian had started walking, within days of each other, Nesta had been overjoyed. She was tired of carrying them everywhere! One was hard enough. It seemed to take about a week before they were perpetually running. She really should not have been surprised.

Just as when Nyx was learning to walk, their wings began to expand and move more on their own. They were prone to dragging them behind them and Nesta was excited to see that Azriel was just as likely to reach for the boys as anyone else. She remembered well when Nyx had been first walking and how Az had hung back. Now if the boys dragged their wings, Uncle Az was there with a quiet reminder just as fast as anyone else. A gentle touch down the edge of the wing to prompt the boy to pull them in was all it took and they both caught on very quickly.

As their official first flying lessons approached, Nesta realized Cassian was getting nervous. He didn’t come out and say anything but every time it was brought up, he changed the subject. It was such a strange behavior for him as to be obvious. He was not prone to avoiding things.

One morning when they didn’t have anywhere to be right away, they lay in bed together comfortable, quiet, newly sated. He’d been drawing circles on her shoulder, across her chest where the bargain tattoo had vanished up her collar bones. She was unsure if she wanted a bath or her mate more at this moment. They still hadn't talked about it, tattoos gone, the bargain complete as of the day after the twins second birthday.

The twins. They could only lay here for so long. It was already close to a miracle they had this long without children flooding through the door. She knew Alis was in the house but even Alis could only do so much. The twins were two and they needed to figure this out, so she decided she would see if she could get to the bottom of the problem.

“Has Rhys said anything about doing the boys first flying lesson at The River House? Or are we going to do it here?” She asked.

“I keep forgetting to ask him.” Cassian said. He tried to sound casual but immediately rolled out of bed and pulled on his undershorts and pants. He walked to the desk on the wall across from the bed as though there were suddenly new papers to review.

“Mmmhmmm…” She responded, getting herself moving. After donning her nightgown again, she approached him and laid a gentle touch to the side of his face. He turned towards her. “Are you ready yet?” She asked.

“Ready? For their lessons?” He asked, a little bit confused but using an intentionally calm and oblivious tone; one she was not buying into.

“Ready to tell me what is bothering you about their lessons.” She elaborated. He continued with the papers; aligning the edges  “I know we didn’t do this with Delphi, and you didn’t seem nervous about Nyx….”

“It’s my mother.” He blurted. She froze. His words came out slowly, as though he were assembling the thoughts even now. “It took a while before I was able to see what it was that was bothering me. It was different with Nyx. He’s Rhys and Feyre’s boy. You know? And Dora. This is the first time it’s been really mine, I guess. But I really don’t know why it didn’t hit me before.”

“Why what didn’t hit you?” She asked, turning him towards her a little. He leaned a hip on the desk, resting a hand on her hip like an anchor but kept staring intently at the desk, worrying papers with a thumb.

“There are all these little milestones with children; walking, talking, flying, new foods, laughing, learning. There is just so much.” He still couldn’t meet her eyes. “How could someone not want to be there for that?” She knew somehow he meant the man who had sired him. She let him hold on to her, and she held onto him in return; a hand on his face, another on his chest. She was content to anchor him and listen. It took a moment but he continued. “My mother, she was alone, but she must have seen so much of that; until she didn’t. Until I was gone. After they took me away, every new experience I had was just me, and so many of them were bad.” He finally met her eyes. 

“But I know she taught me to fly. I know in the same way I know she taught me to walk, to crawl, to eat; I just know.” He shrugged and shook his head. “There wasn’t anyone else.” Nesta nodded. She felt like she was still missing something but she could see this was an old wound and was hesitant to speak. He looked back to the desk, one hand worrying at an ink stain on the blotter even as his other hand still held her like a lifeline.

Finally he said “I don’t really remember her. I don’t remember her teaching me to fly. But I know how proud I am of all of our children. I know the joy they give me. But when I think of my mother, most of the time I think about how I was not a choice, but a burden; how my birth led to her death.” She’d never heard him say that. Tears welled in her eyes and her heart ached for him. She had no idea the thought had even crossed his mind. She had heard him blame the members of the camp, the culture, anything but himself really. She wondered how she could have missed it. How she could have not seen that he would blame himself.

“I guess I never really thought about the idea that I might have given her joy; that maybe she was this proud of me when I was ready to fly. Or how she was the one to teach me, not some male family member because it is a males role.” Of course he hadn’t. He hadn’t been a father before; hadn’t had the experiences of his own to seed realizations. There was a tear slipping down his cheek now. He finally looked back to her and frowned a little at her tears. She gave him a small smile and wiped the tear from his cheek even as he took her face in his hands. “I’m sorry sweetheart.” He said quietly.

“Don’t you dare.” She said with that small smile again. “Don’t you dare apologize for telling me what is in your heart. I am honored to hear it. You told me a long time ago that you could handle whatever I needed to give you. That works both ways. I know you know that, but sometimes I think you forget that you are allowed to lean on me, talk to me. Please, remember, that I want to do these things for you as well.”

He gave her a more genuine smile and a quick soft kiss. “I love you too, Nes.” He somehow always heard her.

“As for your mother. I’m heart sick that she never got to see the amazing male you became.” She went on. His normally swaggering and overconfident self, blushed a little at the compliment. Right now, in this moment, he wasn’t Cassian the General of the Night Court. The battles he was fighting in this moment were those of a young boy, and he blushed at the thought of his mother knowing him longer, getting to know him as he was now, as a father, as a mate, as a member of a family, and even as a warrior. She continued. “Cassian, I know with all my heart that she was so very proud of you. I know without a doubt that you brought her joy, if only for a time. It was not you who brought her torment and isolation. That was those horrible people in the camp where you were born.”

“I know that, here.” He pointed to his head, “But in here,” he laid a palm on his heart “It’s a lot harder to remember. You would think after all this time I’d be able to get it right in both places.” She placed a hand over his atop his heart and smiled at him.

She said more lightly, grinning at him. “With as stubborn as you are I am pleasantly surprised you were able to get it right in that thick skull at least. I call that a win even if it’s not both.” She knew he saw it for the life line that it was, an opportunity to move away from this painful subject and stop being so emotionally exposed. He narrowed his eyes on her in mock anger.

“I’m stubborn.” She nodded imperiously. “I’m the stubborn one.” A smirk as she continued to stare him down. “I’ll show you stubbornness.” She squeaked and laughed as he picked her up in one smooth movement before carrying her towards the bathroom. She realized he was going to put her into the bath and squealed louder as he went through the door and stopped. He raised his eyebrows in question. Her arms now looped around his neck as the rest of her hung from his arms like a limp doll.

“I never said I wasn’t stubborn, either.” She grinned a twinkle in her eye. “If you’ll allow me to remove my nightgown first, you can help me with my bath.”  He slowly set her to the floor but didn’t let go. His hands roaming her back, her sides.

“I’m listening. Catch?” His eyes narrowed. She pulled back and pulled the nightgown over her head in one movement.

“No catch, just me, you, and a bath.” The tub was already full and steaming. He smiled a different smile now and she knew she’d won.

A little while later they lay on their bed again, pleasantly sore in places, their hair damp. He was drawing circles on her side now as he said “We should do it here. This is our home now right? That makes more sense.” She smiled, nodding agreement before she kissed his cheek.

---

@swankii-art-teacher @wesupremeginger @elsie-bells @perpetuallyannoyedbisexual

Not only will there be more, I’ve already started writing it. I just still have a lot of work to do.

[obeymeoasis]

Demon Bros React: MC Compliments Them Aggresively

Warnings: A generally thirsty MC, Beel’s react has a brief mention of choking.

Lucifer

It was rare that Lucifer had time off during the afternoon and you were fully taking advantage of it. 

Holding hands, you were taking a leisurely stroll around the garden. Every few minutes you stopped to point out a flower or a bug that had caught your eye.

“Ooh Luci, look at this one! It looks like a rainbow! Oh my god, it’s so shiny, I love it!”

You heard Lucifer chuckling at you and turned to ask what was so funny when you stood still in shock at the sight before you. The glow of the afternoon sun illuminated Lucifer beautifully, his black hair almost glowing, his face open and happy, smiling at you. He looked absolutely radiant. And you were going to tell him as much.

“Oh my god Lucifer, what is wrong with you?”

Lucifer’s smile dimmed immediately and his eyes narrowed. “Love, whatever do you mean?” His voice was careful and tense.

“I mean, it is illegal for you to look that good! Oh my god! Do you see you? You look like a greek god like what in the actual world!”

Lucifer’s mouth opened in surprise at your sudden outburst.

“How are you even my boyfriend? Like you’re literally glowing Luci. Oh my god my eyes, you’re too bright I can’t even look at you!”

Lucifer blinked a couple of times as if to clear his head. Slowly a satisfied smirk replaced his confused look and he moved to press a kiss against the back of your hand.

“Love, what on earth has gotten into you today?”

“What, I’m not allowed to compliment my boyfriend?”

“Of course you are, although I’d prefer it if the compliments were given in a more... private place next time.”

“...Fine.”

Mammon

Mammon had apparently made some money in one of his schemes and he practically dragged you to Majolish one morning to go shopping.

Once in the store Mammon had sped off in a flurry of activity, adding clothes to an ever-growing pile before herding you toward the dressing room. 

"Wait for me outside, okay? Ya gotta tell me how each outfit looks.”

A few minutes later, Mammon stepped out in a pair of dark jeans that hugged his toned legs and a black v-neck sweater that showed off his collarbone. A thin gold chain adorned his neck and the look was completed with a pair of combat boots.

“Well, whattaya think?”

“Mammon. What the hell.”

Mammon’s shoulders drooped a little. “Not good?”

“Mammon. You look so hot. So fucking hot. Like. A supermodel? An icon? You’re stunning!”

He was beginning to blush and you could see how pleased your compliments made him. “O-Of course you think I’m hot! I’m the Great Mammon! I always look good in whatever I wear.”

He expected you to stop at that point and chide him to be more humble but was surprised when you amped up the compliments.

“You do babe, you really do. Look at how long your legs are! And your arms, oh my god. And your chest, wow, I kinda want to lick your chest right now.”

“MC!” Shocked and a little embarrassed, Mammon fled to the inside of the dressing room, swishing the curtain shut behind him. He could feel his cheeks burning. 

“Sorry Mams, I’ll stop if you want me to. But I meant every word.”

“...Please don’t stop.”

Leviathan

You were in his room, cuddled on some cushions, watching a new anime together. 

Your head on Levi’s shoulder, you were so comfortable that you were close to drifting off to sleep, until Levi nudged your shoulder. “Sorry, I have to go feed Henry.”

You watched Levi sprinkle food into the large tank, his face illuminated by the soft glow. The bubbles and movement from the tank created dancing patterns on his face. As Levi watched Henry eat, he smiled a soft, private smile, and in that moment he looked ethereal.

“Levi, you’re so beautiful.”

Levi’s head whipped around to look at you. “W-What are you talking about?”

You got up and moved closer until you were inches from his face, studying his features. “I’m serious Levi, you’re absolutely gorgeous. Devastatingly handsome. I could honestly stare at you all day. You are so so beautiful.”

With each compliment, Levi’s mouth grew a little bit wider until he was gaping at you.

“I-Is this some kind of joke? Are you making fun of me right now? Why would you- You know how I feel about-”

“Levi, please. Have a little more faith in me. You know I’d never make fun of you. I’m being completely serious right now when I say that you’re incredibly beautiful.”

Levi thinks his brain might have stopped working.

His face is burning, his body is all tingly, and he can’t get any words out?

“Levi? Come back to me, Levi! Hello?” You’re waving your hand in front of his face but you think he might be broken.

You take his hand and slowly lead him back toward the cushions for kisses and more cuddling. 

Satan

Reading with Satan was one of your favorite ways to spend an afternoon.

You sat in opposite armchairs and let the comfortable silence fill the room. The only disturbance would be if either of you wanted to share a line or passage from the book you were reading.

Legs curled against your chest, you watched the flame of the candles make flickering shadows against Satan’s bookshelves.

He tapped you on the shoulder and you turned to see his outstretched hand holding his book.

“Love, look at this line.”

You read in amusement as the hero of the story made a witty joke. "That was a good one-"

You turned and saw Satan, his eyes crinkled in laughter, a light blush dusting his cheeks, his lips bitten in an attempt to hold in a giggle.

"Satan... you're so fucking cute."

Immediately one of his eyebrows cocked in confusion. "What-"

"You are so adorable, wow. I want to squish your cheeks and like keep you inside my pocket or something."

"Love, I am the Avatar of Wrath. I am not... cute."

"Yeah? Well I beg to differ. I call it like I see it and right now, I can see that you are the cutest being I've ever seen in my life. The way your eyes light up and you get all blushy. So adorable, I can't stand it."

Satan seemed to be stunned by your exclamation, his features frozen in a mixture of confusion and shock.

You walked over to him and began pressing kisses against his eyelids, on his cheeks, nose, and then finally, lips. "I'm gonna keep kissing you because you're so cute, okay?"

He ended up tugging you against his chest and holding you in a princess-carry, trying to bury his face in your hair so you couldn't see how flustered he was.

Asmodeus

You were in Asmo's room helping him pick an outfit. Well, more like you were scrolling through your D.D.D. while Asmo went through his entire closet complaining about how he had nothing to wear.

He had some sort of big business meeting coming up with a perfume company who wanted his help in designing their new line of products.

Every outfit so far had been beautiful and Asmo looked amazing in each one, as always. You weren't sure how to help him.

"MC, this next outfit is a little different. It's not really my style but it was a gift from the designer so tell me what you think, okay?"

Asmo swished aside the curtain of his dressing room and walked out in a formal black business suit. The shirt was open at the throat, exposing his delicate neck, and he had added a pink pocket square. A large silver watch shone on his left wrist. His shiny black shoes clicked against the floor as he walked toward you.

"So, what do you think?"

"Asmo... If I'm being honest I kind of want you to pin me against the wall right now."

"Darling! You're usually never this forward."

You stood up and twirled him around. "My god Asmo, you look incredible. You look so sexy and professional. Like a rich CEO or something. Scratch the wall thing, I kinda need you to bend me over your desk."

Asmo had never been more surprised by you, but his shock didn’t last long.

"Do you really like it, MC? Do you like when I wear this sort of thing? I should wear suits more often if it means you talking like that. I love this side of you darling!"

He began stalking toward you until your back was gently pressed against the wall, his arms making a kind of cage around you. “Is this what you pictured, MC?” He began kissing you fiercely and you grabbed onto the lapel of his jacket to keep yourself steady. 

“Asmo?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Don’t go to the meeting today.”

Beelzebub

You were in the gym with Beel. He was lifting weights and you were bouncing on a medicine ball next to him.

Even though you didn’t exercise at all, Beel said he liked you being there with him. And since it was such a hot day outside, you didn’t mind spending the afternoon in the cool air-conditioned building.

But despite the chill of the room, Beel’s shirt was soaked with sweat. He was lifting enormous weights and you could see the muscles of his arms straining with the effort. 

Beel was, well, absolutely ripped. His arms, legs, and stomach all looked like they had been carved from marble. And you spent enough time cuddling with him to know that his body felt exactly like it looked, solid and incredibly strong.

People who didn’t know Beel personally would have found it hard to believe that the demon with an eight-pack had the personality of a hungry golden retriever.

A grunt from Beel startled you out of your thoughts and you realized you had been staring at him this whole time. Uncomfortable at the way his shirt was sticking to his body from sweat, Beel peeled it off of himself.

“Beel?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re killing me here.”

He looked at you in confusion, worried he had done something. “MC, what’s wrong?”

“Beel, do you even see yourself right now? You literally look like sex on legs. How are you even real? I want to touch you all over. But I also kind of want you to choke me.”

“MC!” Beel cried out in surprise and you could see his neck was flushed. “You know I would never hurt you.”

“I know big guy, I trust you.” You let out a low whistle and reveled in how Beel looked, a combination of pleased and a bit embarrassed. “Beel, you’re so perfect. You look like you could protect me from the world.”

“I would you know,” he whispered. “I want to protect you, I don’t want anything or anyone to hurt you.”

You smiled at him. “I know Beel, and I love you for it.” You let the silence hang in the air for a moment. “But also, can I lick your abs?”

“MC!”

Belphegor

It was a rare occasion that you and Belphie were outside, as you both usually preferred to stay in.

You had both woken up late and decided to stop by a local cafe for some lunch because you were too lazy to cook. 

Belphie sat across from you at the small table and sipped his tea delicately while you polished off the rest of your sandwich. You had one of your ankles hooked around his.

He was looking out the window, his face turned toward the side, and you used the opportunity to study his features.

Long black eyelashes framed his piercing purple eyes. His silky dark hair stood out against his pale complexion and your eyes traced the high bridge of his nose, the softness of his lips.

As if feeling your stare Belphie turned toward you with a smirk. “Something I can help you with?”

“Belphie... you’re really pretty.” 

You could see that you had surprised him a little with your honesty. “You’re so pretty, Belphie. I know a lot of people would kill to have eyelashes as long as yours. And your mouth looks so kissable. You kind of look like a doll. You’re honestly so gorgeous.”

His face was completely blank for a moment then morphed into a calculating stare. “Are... are you being serious right now?” His gaze suddenly turned cold.

“Why would I joke about something like this? I’m telling you right now that think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful.”

Belphie's voice betrayed no emotion. “Nobody’s ever called me pretty before. Or beautiful.”

“Oh, Belphie.” You took his hand from across the table and pressed a kiss against his palm and then the inside of his wrist, the way he did to you all the time. “I’ll repeat it everyday for the rest of my life if you want.”

He scrunched up his nose and whispered, “Don’t. You’re being embarrassing.” But you could tell he didn’t really mean it by the way the corners of his lips quirked up.

He was mostly silent for the rest of lunch, apparently deep in thought, only nodding occasionally at your comments.

When it was time to leave, however, he reached to hold your hand and didn’t let go the entire way home.

[within-the-fog-au]

The guys designs and backstories/deaths

(Tom and edds designs were made by my friend @cola-stripe )

MATT

The first to die, and died around the 1400s.

He was a rich noble who was actually in a gay relationship. However one day he was bitten by a vampire, and it wasn't long later that the other villagers had discovered this along with his relationship.

He was forced to watch as his lover was beaten to death, only to be beaten himself shortly after and thrown into The Fog to die. Starving and slowly being corrupted, he was forced to drink the blood of a Husk. He died shortly after since a Husk's blood is not at all sufficient for a vampire to survive off of.

However instead of being turned into a Husk, he was transformed into one of the many monsters that roam The Fog. He was at first horrified by his hideous appearance, but overtime learned he could change his appearance at will, and chose a much more human one. Angry at the world, he at first hunted and killed humans, However as the centuries passed he realized things had changed and became peaceful.

Nowadays he does his best to help any lost humans get back home, and wanders the seemingly endless forest.

He can see in the dark and is very fast, and he also has mild shape-shifting.

Edd & Ringo

Died second around the 40s during WW1.

The two ran into the woods to survive an attack, figuring it would be better then being captured by enemy soldiers.

Ringo was the first to die by starvation, with Edd following soon after. However due to circumstances still unknown(I haven't thought of a reason), Edd was brought back as a monster and Ringo as a helpedful spirit.

Nowadays Ringo helps guide lost humans home, and Edd is a very sweet and caring monster who does enjoy helping humans.

He can change the position of the eyes on his body, as well as his mouth, at will.

Tom

Died third during the late 70s.

He was heavily bullied and shunned by the other townsfolk due to the fact his mother was a monster, and monster-human relationships are extremely frowned upon, especially back then.

One day a couple of jerks beat him badly and left him to die in the woods. In a desperate attempt to survive he transformed, but sudden transformation killed him.

Due to The Fog's effects, he was brought back as a monster. He is very hostile towards humans and has lost most of his humanity over the years.

He can run fast and jump high, and has an amazing sense of smell and sight.

Tord

Died last around the mid 90s.

He came to England for a hunting trip, and chased a wolf into the woods, not realizing the danger he was in. He eventually killed and skinned the wolf, only to find its blood replaced by a thick black ooze due to it being corrupted.

Unfortunately being the the woods and such contact with the ooze caused him to become corrupted, and he Unfortunately gave into his desire(stage 4 of the corruption).

He died a slow painful death like any corrupted person would, however the wolf's DNA caused his body to mutate and for him to come back as a monster.

He had died neat a patch of mushrooms, and the spores stuck to him after he was brought back, slowly growing on him and giving him the ability to change his right arm into anything he wants.

He can run very fast and has the ability to influence people using both his soothing voice and the spores from the mushrooms growing off him.

The human.

River, or Riv for short, lives alone in a small house by the woods, and thus is often a target for demon and monster attacks.

However most monster they encounter are rather friendly, and they like leaving little treats out for the beasts.

They lost their sister to The Fog's corruption when they were just a young child, and deep down have a burning desire to find her.

Eventually they gave into this desire and went out into the woods, where they first met Edd and Ringo, then met the other three not many days later.

The other people in town don't like them very much, especially because they are technically corrupted, however cannot be affected past stage two and is on medication for it.

About the AU

This is an eddsworld au created by @just-a-lil-otter and is more centered around horror

[giorno-plays-piano]

Rusted Remnants

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x mutant!Reader

Warnings: past noncon, smut, dirty talk, Stockholm syndrome, violence, mention of human experiments, swearing.

Words: 1924.

Summary: You felt better knowing he wouldn't have to leave for quite some time now, staring at the man as he leaned back against the pillow, watching the smoke slowly disappear in the air - Heisenberg wasn't your darling, but he's the only one who kept you sane in that fucking hole where human life mattered so little. Among other Lords he's the only one who had the resolve to fight that heartless bitch hiding behind the façade of a holy mother.

____________________

When a bearded man in sunglasses opened the door with a grinding, abrasive sound, you felt both fear and relief - Heisenberg was a mean son of a bitch who couldn’t stand people crossing him on anything, and you learned that the hard way. However, thanks to that insanely strong bastard who could smash in a Lycan’s skull with one swing of his hammer, you were still safe in his hideout, not having to worry about mutilated monsters this place was swarming with.

Besides, even though Heisenberg was as rotten and disgusting as any other Lord, he still had more human in him than Dimitrescu, Beneviento and Moreau altogether.

“Did you miss me, little monster?” He smirked, watching you laying in bed with some cheap romance novel you traded for bullets with the Duke: you had little hobbies since you barely left Heisenberg’s factory.

You rolled your eyes, knowing he hadn’t been home for a couple of days and now needed to get under your skin, feeding off your emotions like Alcina fed off her victims’ blood. It was something like a routine to him: he needed to know you had something human in you, too.

“Who else do you expect me to miss?” you snorted, leaving a worn book with a dirty yellow cover on the bed. “You know I don’t like when you leave for so long.”

“It’s not like I like it either.”

Leaving his monstrous hammer on the table full of blueprints, drawings, nails and all other things you were forbidden to touch, he took his glasses off, and you saw his weary eyes, the blood vessels widened in their white. It didn't happen often, but from time to time Heisenberg would abandon his façade of a smug, careless bastard, and then you could catch a glimpse of a deadly tired man who had long lost any hope to ever free himself from Miranda’s death grip. Something had happened in those couple of days when he had been wandering the woods and catacombs filled with Lycans, Samcăs, and Vârcolacs, and it certainly wasn’t good news if it stripped Heisenberg of his endless complacency.

Quietly slipping away from the bed, you put your shoes on while the man in front of you left his coat hanging on a chair and stilled, his dirty hands on the desk as he stared at it blankly. While he stood there, motionless, you turned on the large faucet in an improvised shower cabin - everything there had been old and rusty, and you needed time to adjust the temperature of water from icy cold to bearable cool or even hot if you were lucky enough. Thankfully, Karl never protested against showering, washing away dry blood, machine oil, muck and filth.

Saying nothing, you carefully lifted his hat, unclasped the belt on his chest and started unbuttoning his dirty shirt - nobody would believe it had been white once. Finally, Heisenberg came back to his senses, smirking and letting you strip him of his clothes, leaving his pants and huge heavy boots on the floor. As he stepped into the shower, he dragged you with him behind the old plastic curtains full of holes, and your nightgown got drenched within a couple of seconds, water pouring over your head. You didn’t protest anymore, knowing the man wouldn’t let you go until he blew off some steam, pushing you into a wet stone wall and wrecking you ass till you started sobbing - he loved when you squeezed his fat cock with your pussy, but Heisenberg couldn’t risk getting you pregnant, leaving his child to be endlessly tortured by that holy bitch until she turned his baby into some fucking monster doll. Sometimes he could buy some condoms from the Duke, but it was still a rare occasion, so most of the time Heisenberg spent using your other holes, filling you to the brim with his cum until he felt satisfied.

"Wearing that white nightgown like some noble slut from Alcina's castle." he growled into your ear from behind, grinding against your ass, his callous fingers gripping your hips as he forced you spread your legs for him. "Did you do it on purpose, baby? Did you want to bounce on my cock so bad?"

Turning your head to him, you didn't get a chance to speak up when the man crashed his mouth into yours, his arm lifting up the drenched fabric of your nightgown and baring your flesh. Landing a loud smack to your ass, he grinned through the kiss: he loved it when you behaved well around him, taking whatever he was giving you like a good girl you were.

You didn’t mind. At first the thought of him touching you had been giving you panic attacks and nausea, but as years flew by, nothing changing in this Hell of a place where sanity was a privilege, you clung to Heisenberg in a desperate attempt to feel human again - even if it was something as primitive as grinding your bodies against each other.

As he rubbed his cock in between your shaking thighs pressed together, you moaned, the water cascading down your bodies while Heisenberg fondled your breasts, biting and nipping his way down your neck.

"You're going nowhere until I fuck the shit out of you."

_________

Breathing in the smell of his Cuban cigars, you watched Heisenberg smoke as he laid close to you, his naked body barely covered by a blanket: his skin was littered with nasty scars, and it seemed like every centimeter of it had once been burned, cut or bitten. Some of them were so old you could barely see them, others relatively knew where the scar tissue was still angry red and thick: most of the time he got them while working on his personal army down there, but with his regenerative abilities they were like a kitten bite to him. Of course, even of they weren't, Heisenberg would still pretend like it was nothing, wearing his shit-eating grin.

"The holy whore is up to something," he says after long minutes of silence, ash falling to the floor from his cigar, "and I don't like that I know fucking nothing of her plans."

You felt better knowing he wouldn't have to leave for quite some time now, staring at the man as he leaned back against the pillow, watching the smoke slowly disappear in the air - Heisenberg wasn't your darling, but he's the only one who kept you sane in that fucking hole where human life mattered so little. Among other Lords he's the only one who had the resolve to fight that heartless bitch hiding behind the façade of a holy mother. You couldn't call him sane, but he had enough sanity to remember what Miranda did to all of you and how fucking twisted was her desire to have a family. You weren't her children, regardless how many times Moreau was going to call her his mother. Whatever she did to you or those miserable villagers, her cannon fodder, she did only to revive her real daughter, and the thought had been making you sick since the times Heisenberg told you about Miranda's past.

"You think it's something big?"

"Yeah. She keeps disappearing into thin air, and I can't find a trace of her anywhere at all."

You grew silent, staring at the blanket with empty eyes: it certainly wasn't a good sign. Where was she going if even Heisenberg couldn't locate her? Was she crossing the forest to get to the outer world? The last time it happened she brought to the world one more horrifying monster with a face of a little girl. The only thing you knew about her was that she was destroyed a couple of years ago, just a failed experiment like all those Miranda had been involved in.

"I think she partners up with someone, some organization that can give her what she wants like, you knew, she did before." You muttered, and Heisenberg stared at you, narrowing his frightening light eyes.

"With whom could the old bitch partner?"

"I don't know, but I know she brought someone with her, willingly or not."

Now you had his full attention as he turned to you, his eyes burning a hole in your face. "Who did she bring here? How the fuck do you know?"

Rolling over to your stomach and hugging a pillow - a real pillow you got from the Duke a month ago, not that pile of garbage the man had been sleeping on for ages - you let out a loud sigh. You weren’t eager to go exploring the factory even though you knew where his soldiers were, but you couldn't just stay in his room for the rest of your days, and sometimes you would get out for a couple of hours, wandering empty corridors with rusted doors.

At first it was subtle. You knew this place well, but you couldn't sense monsters or people getting in the way Miranda did even after Cadou implantation. You just wandered the same places over and over, collecting semi-precious stones, bullets and other things you could trade for something with a merchant. As the time flew by, the feeling of uneasiness was washing over you as you stepped into certain rooms, got into certain places. There was nothing peculiar there, nothing that would catch your attention, but something was still eating you up as if you knew something wasn't right.

At one point you realized that what disturbed you were things moving from their original places - changes were small, barely noticeable for someone who didn't spend hundreds of hours walking around here, but you could know put your finger on what was wrong. Who was it? You knew it weren't the Lords who had no business here. Besides, the Master of Metal could always feel their presence. Obviously, it weren't humans from the village for whom the factory was sacred, and monsters possessed too little intelligence to put things on their places in the very same order. You thought it could be Mother Miranda, but she wouldn't be sneaky if she really wanted to show Heisenberg his place.

Now it all made sense. You knew the outer world would learn about this place sooner or later, especially after that monster girl incident, and it only proved the idea Miranda brought someone with her.

"I think it's someone smart, Karl. Someone who will either destroy Miranda or try to take control of her - and us, maybe." You said after telling him about your little adventures, and the man smirked, stroking your back. Of course, after her little Eveline had been released into the world, he had thoughts about other organizations having their fair share of Megamycete,

“Someone we can use against her, then.” He whispered, his eyes dark and perceptive as he leant closer, dropping a kiss to your shoulder, his complacency getting back as he sent you a smug grin, slapping your ass loudly. “Good job, little monster. Good job.”

Rolling you over on your back, he got on top of you, pushing your legs apart and licking his lips at the sight of your naked pussy right in front of him, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs.

“I’ve forgot to tell you baby," he grinned at you when you squirmed from his touch, his thumb already tracing tiny little circles against your clit. “I’ve got a rubber, so you better milk me dry with that sweet little cunt of yours.”

[aesthetic-survivor-of-twd]

My thoughts on Clementine’s story in the “Skybound X” Comic

Okay, so before I jump into my opinion piece on the comic, I’m going to give a little explanation and break down of the issue, for all of you confused as to why everyone’s talking about this story.

What is it?

A while ago, Skybound announced that they would be continuing Clementine’s story via comic. It is supposed to be a trilogy taken place in the same universe as both the game and TWD comic series (with Rick Grimes). It is intended to be a continuation of The Final Season.

Why is everyone yelling about it?

Back when the comic was first announced, the reception was mixed with some people excited to see Clementine again, some who expressed scepticism on how Skybound would treat our beloved characters (and the ending of TFS which seemed like a perfect end note to Clem’s journey and arc) and wanted nothing to do with it, and some who were “cautiously optimistic” - shall we say, to what a sequel comic would entail for Clementine.

How would Skybound handle the choices? does this mean half of the playthroughs will no longer be canon? how can you even continue Clem’s story at this point without messing with the characterization or the playthroughs? 

Well, the comic finally released and people read it and...yeah, our hesitance was justified. 

So, it’s impossible to describe this comic without spoilers, so for anyone who wishes to read the comic themselves and form their own opinion beforehand - do not read below this cut as I will be going through the entire comic plot. You’ve been warned!

The Story

So, the story starts off early in the morning, with Clementine gearing up to leave the school.

We follow her as she leaves the school grounds (alone), goes to the hut to pack supplies and finds a map. She hears a noise outside, which turns out to be a walker so she leaves the hut and kills it. Then goes back to looking at the map.

So far, so good right? like it seems odd that Clementine’s leaving the school in crutches alone with no back up, but hey, maybe she’s just trying to regain some independence and get in some early morning hunting for the group or something, right?

Well this is when shit starts to go South...

Clementine hears another noise, and thinking it’s a walker she opens the hut door wielding a knife, only for it to be AJ.

(Also I think it’s been a couple of years since TFS, because AJ’s looking pretty tall for a 5 year old and apparently they’ve got new settlements to trade with).

It turns out, that Clementine was planning on ditching the school and setting off on her own. Without even a single goodbye or bothering to tell anyone about it. AJ is rightfully confused by this (fucking same, little buddy). And it leads to this exchange:

Yup. So Clementine, not only was planning on ditching her new family and home, but she was also going to leave AJ without a single goodbye and just vanish from his life. Breaking any promises or teachings she told him from their time spent together.

And you know what the worst part is?

She’s doing it because she’s “not happy” (and no, she doesn’t elaborate on this, we’re just supposed to accept it). AJ just tries in earnest to convince her to stay and that he can make her happy and all Clem says is “you can’t”.

If I were to analyse this short scene, I would say that perhaps it’s an internal war Clem’s got going on in her head, where there IS no rational reason for her leaving, but rather it’s something mentally that she can’t get over (possibly depression) and she feels like she has to leave to deal with it better. Honestly, in any other story this would be an incredibly interesting character complexity to witness.

BUT

The issue here is that it does NOT at all match Clem’s characterization from the game.

Clem was happy with the school. All she ever wanted in her life was for somewhere safe to call home and spend the rest of her days without constant fear and having to be on the move. She wanted to belong somewhere after losing Lee and her family. 

Clem’s character has never been about this badass who’s always on the move for thrills or looking for adventure or excitement. Does it happen to her? yes. But her character has always wanted to settle down somewhere with people and to have a family. She’s a homebody at heart, and the ending of TFS even plays with this by having her be the leader (which is what the series was building her up for) who strategizes and sends other people out while she stays in the middle of it all. The reason that ep4 was so beautiful was it came full circle with Season 1 in that Clementine can finally rest and LIVE her life now, without fear of being on the run or having to feel alone anymore, knowing everyone around her is safe and happy.

You mean to tell me, that Clementine would risk her life to save a community of people and protect “a home” only to up and abandon it because “idk it’s not for me” - fucking bullshit, Skybound. Clementine loves the Ericson kids and AJ, even if she didn’t form a romance with Louis or Violet. Those people meant something to her, and even if she did feel like it was safe to leave them, she wouldn’t. Because she enjoys being with them and loves them.

Clem did not go through hell for these people and spend years hunting down AJ only to up and ditch them - WITHOUT EVEN A GOODBYE, mind you.

She has plenty of opportunities to leave them, and she didn’t. Not even when there was a risk to her life.

Also, the best part about this? after Clem gives us her pity me tears, a walker sneaks up behind her and AJ shoots it before it gets her. 

It’s supposed to represent how well Clem has taught him throughout the years, but I find it hilarious because we’re now supposed to be okay with Clem venturing out on her own after almost getting chomped (again).

AJ finally accepts her decisions and runs back to the school, while the final shot is of Clementine walking into the horizon.

Final Thoughts

Honestly, the fact that even the writer of this comic couldn’t even bother giving Clementine a reason beyond that vague “I’m not happy” statement is a slap in the face itself, and just goes to show that even they don’t fully believe in the plot of the story either and it’s purely being used as a means to cash in on a Clementine spin off without having the other characters there and the potential backlash of referencing the game choices.

Oh it was something special, all right. It’s like an angst fanfic.

HOW on earth is this comic staying “true to Clementine’s journey”? did you even play the games, Skybound? because besides a few quirky buzzwords like “still not bitten”, I don’t think you understand the story of TWDG or Clementine’s “journey” at all.

Not only was this comic unnecessary, but I’m confident that even the writers of TFS never believed this to be an outcome for Clementine either give how often they spoke about ep4 as being the conclusion to her story and her arc being “finding a home and what it means to protect one”.

With all that said, please don’t send hate to Tillie Walden. If anything, it’s Skybound themselves that should be scrutinised for greenlighting this script and thinking it was an appropriate sequel for the game (if it even needed one).

(Also apparently adventurer Clem is no longer tying her hair up anymore and is growing it out, which makes 0 sense when she’s out exploring).

In Conclusion

This short comic was a hot mess, but we’ve got 2 more to go.

The only way I can see this comic being salvaged is if they pull off the cliché storyline of Clementine realizing she was wrong and that the school IS her home and where she wants to be, so returns back to Ericson’s in the end.

But that would be both pointless and still make this entire intro nonsensical, so I guess we’ll just need to wait and see.

I’ve honestly no clue how Clementine is expecting to find something better out in the world for herself that makes her happy, when she herself knows how rare it is to find a home like that in the apocalypse and how dangerous it is elsewhere.

[nerdzzone]

-More Hearts Than Mine-

Summary: Raising a child is hard. Raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars is even harder. And raising a child with one of Hollywood’s biggest stars who you’re not actually in a relationship with is even harder still.

Especially when a global pandemic is sweeping the world.

With lockdowns and stay at home orders looming on the horizon, the uncertainty of their situation becomes almost too much for Whitney Taylor to handle. Chris suggests that they quarantine together to avoid any potential separations but, given what happened the last time they spent more than a few brief moments in each other’s company, that could cause more problems than it solves…

Chris Evans x OFC

Sequel to: Once Bitten - Twice Shy

Note: I’ve decided to make this five parts instead of four. I was originally going to combine this part and the next one, but I feel like it flows better with a bit of separation between them!

Part One

____

Part Two

The rest of our first afternoon together was spent lazing around. Grayson was tired, but continued to refuse his nap so we kept things low key to avoid any exhausted toddler meltdowns. By the time the evening rolled around, I was tired from the stress of the day myself and since I still had to unpack, I went up to my bedroom shortly after we'd tucked Grayson into bed.

I slept a lot better than I thought I would given everything that was on my mind and when I woke up, I could already hear the sounds of breakfast echoing up from the kitchen. Taking a few minutes to let myself wake up properly, I checked my phone and scrolled through social media before getting up, stretching and heading downstairs.

"Good morning," I smiled, finding Chris and Grayson sitting at the island eating some scrambled eggs while Scott leaned against the counter with a cereal bowl in his hands.

"G'morning, Mama!"

Grayson's greeting was said through a mouthful of food and Chris reminded him that wasn't polite before greeting me himself.

"Help yourself to whatever you want," he insisted. "There's some eggs left in the pan or cereal, whatever you can find. Maybe Grayson will even share his apple slices with you if you ask nicely."

Grayson gasped at that suggestion and frantically shook his head.

"No, Daddy!" He protested. "I don't want to share!"

I laughed as he reached over his plate to move the little bowl of sliced fruit closer to his body where he could keep it guarded.

"Not even one slice?" I asked. "But I'm so hungry!"

"Over there!" Grayson giggled, pointing at the counter.

I turned around and saw a few more apples in a bowl, making me smile as I turned back to the boys.

"But they're not nicely sliced like yours," I pointed out. "How can I eat those?"

Grayson shrugged and plucked one of his apples out of his bowl. He looked smug, thinking he'd won, but he was so distracted while he took a bite that he didn't see Chris' hand sneak over until he'd snatched one of the slices and tossed it to me.

"Catch!"

I did as Chris instructed and Grayson's jaw dropped. An indignant huff fell from his lips as he looked between the two of us.

"That's not nice."

Chris laughed, but I bit back a smile and returned his apple.

"You're right, baby," I agreed, kissing the top of your head. "That was mean, but we were just tricking you. You don't have to share your apple."

"Thanks, Mama."

The frown on his face turned back into a grin and I scraped the rest of the eggs that were in the pan on the stove onto a plate before turning back to the boys once I’d pulled a fork from the drawer.

"So, how do you want to work it with things like groceries while I'm here?"

"Just tell me what you want and I'll order it," Chris told me. "They've started doing curbside pick up pretty much everywhere so I was thinking I'd just do that."

"Oh, that's handy, but I meant like money wise. Should I just transfer you my share or do you want to alternate who pays?"

Chris stared at me for a moment as if he was trying to figure out if I was joking before he chuckled.

"I'm not taking any money from you, Whitney."

His voice was firm, but I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"What? Why not? I can't let you pay for everything."

"You're not still working, are you?" Scott asked. "Or is it different since, as a photographer, you're so far away from whoever you're taking pictures of?"

"I'm not working," I admitted. "I think it would be doable if it was, like, family portraits or something like that, but the big photo shoots involve too many people. Everyone cancelled on me last week or delayed my contracts until at least the summer."

"So, don't worry about paying for anything then," Chris shrugged. "It's not like you're going to eat that much, I think I can handle the cost."

He was trying to do a nice thing. He was a very generous person with those that he cared about, but I wasn't going to take advantage of him.

"I have savings, Chris," I insisted. "I'm not completely helpless."

As if sensing a rising tension, Scott put his bowl in the sink and grabbed his coffee mug before turning to Grayson.

"Hey, Gray, let's go see what cartoons we can find."

Grayson nodded eagerly and Chris helped him down from the tall stool so he could follow Scott out of the room, taking his little bowl of apples with him.

"I wasn't trying to imply that you're helpless," Chris assured me once they were out of earshot. "But you're tiny, I don't think that buying you a few groceries for the next couple of months will financially cripple me."

I tried to temper my defensiveness before I answered him, reminding myself again that he was trying to be helpful.

"I know that, but I don't feel comfortable living here for that long without contributing," I told him. "You already give me more than you need to every month for Grayson."

It was true. Since our custody agreement was that Grayson spent fifty percent of his time with each of us, he wasn't required to pay me any child support. But he did anyway. It was something we’d argued about on and off over the years because the amount that he gave me was way over the top. I appreciated his generosity and I did use all the money to buy things for Gray, but most of it ended up in a bank account that I'd opened for him because there was no way to spend it all in one month without Grayson becoming the most spoiled child in all of Massachusetts.

"I like to make sure he's taken care of."

"Which I am capable of doing with my own money when he's in my care," I reminded him. "But I don't want to start that whole conversation again. I just want to feel like I'm doing my part while I stay with you."

"And I appreciate that gesture, but it won't be necessary," Chris insisted. "You can clean, you can cook, do anything like that to help out, but I won't accept any money, especially while you're not working."

I sighed as he stood up to put his plate in the dishwasher while I put mine on the counter, too distracted by our conversation to eat. I knew it would be a struggle to get him to agree to take money from me, but I wasn't ready to back down so I thought of a compromise and hoped he would accept.

"How about we drop it for now," I suggested. "But if this thing goes on for more than a couple of weeks, can we talk about it again?"

Chris paused and crossed his arms. I could tell that he wanted to argue, but I was relieved when he agreed.

"Alright," he nodded, hesitating for a moment before adding a stipulation to the deal. "But we're going to talk about your car too before you leave here."

"My car? What about my car?"

"Grayson told me that it's not working properly," Chris admitted. "He said it sounds angry sometimes and that you haven't gotten it checked out yet."

I rolled my eyes, guessing that was one of those 'secrets' that he mentioned.

"It's fine," I assured him. "It made a weird sound one time last week when I tried to start it, but it's still working. I was going to take it in, but then all this virus stuff happened and I didn't have chance."

"You need a new one," Chris informed me. "That one is getting old anyway. I'll take you car shopping when things reopen."

I laughed at the absurdity of that statement, but I could see the annoyance on his face at my reaction.

"You're not buying me a car, Chris. The one I have is perfectly fine and if it's not then I will take myself car shopping, thank you very much."

"Why do you get so defensive when I try to help you?" He asked, his eyes shifting into a glare. "I'm not going to accidentally think that you're in love with me just because you accept a nice gesture from me. I can take a hint, Whitney, I get it."

My jaw dropped and I couldn't hold back a disgruntled scoff at his insane change of topic.

"What are you even talking about? This has nothing to do with that," I argued. "I wouldn’t have accepted your invitation if I knew you were going to hold that over me and throw it in my face all the time."

“All the time? This is the first time I’ve mentioned it!”

“Yes, but I’ve not even been here for twenty-fours hours and you’ve already brought it up!”

Perhaps it was my harsh, snappy tone that did it or my very valid criticism of his low blow, but Chris' body language softened.

"I just don't get why you get so worked up when I'm trying to help you..."

"Because I don't need help, Chris," I explained. "I might not be Captain America rich, but I do just fine and I can take care of myself. I can buy my own groceries and if I really needed to, I could buy myself a new car. You throwing money at me for things like that makes me feel like you don't value the success I've had in my career or my ability to manage my finances which is, quite frankly, offensive."

Chris dropped his arms so they were no longer crossed and his shoulders relaxed. Clearly, he'd been getting quite defensive as well and had realized it, whether he would admit it or not. I held my head high, proud of myself for explaining my feelings so well and taking him down a notch, but that feeling disappeared as soon as Chris spoke.

"If you were the richest woman in the world, I would still want to buy you a car," Chris started, looking more nervous than the dismissive, self-assured attitude I was getting moments ago. "I'd still want to buy you anything you could ever need because making you happy makes me happy."

My face fell at his confession and my heart clenched again, knowing what the underlying sentiment behind his statement was. It stung more than any hurtful words could have as the sincerity, the genuine care and appreciation, in his voice was heartbreaking. I regretted not adding a condition to our cohabitation that specified he wasn't allowed to say such nice, guilt inducing things as I stared at him for a moment, trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation that was more polite than just bolting out the door. 

Too much time was passing as his words hung between us so, short of any good comeback to his words, I shrugged.

"If you want to make me happy, let me contribute for the groceries."

It was Chris' turn to look shocked now, as he was obviously expecting a more thoughtful response to his rather vulnerable admission, but he pulled himself together quickly and a dry laugh fell from his lips.

"Nice try, Whitney," he smiled, shaking his head. "But that's not going to happen."

Without giving me any more time to argue, he turned on his heels and walked out the door leaving me alone to wallow in my guilt and wonder how much longer I'd be able to keep up my act of nonchalance.

-

There was a weird sense of restlessness in the house that day. Usually, killing a few days at home would be no big deal but, as soon as the stay at home orders came into place that morning, the knowledge that we were now unable to do anything else made it feel slightly more suffocating.

Chris wasn't lying though when he said that he planned to make this lockdown as enjoyable as possible so we managed to keep ourselves entertained as we planned out some of the things we could do. Chris and Scott were compiling a list of old movies they wanted to watch again, I ordered a bunch of puzzles and books (some more child appropriate and some for the adults), Chris dug out an old wiffle ball set he had from when they were kids and Scott organized Chris' video game collection, pulling out all the good ones like their favourite: Mario Kart.

By the end of the day, we were all feeling much more optimistic about how our time at home would go. Especially Grayson. It was finally starting to sink in for him that he got to spend the foreseeable future surrounded by all his favourite people - something that was unfortunately a rarity for him given our situation. He was bouncing off the walls as he threw his ideas into the mix and couldn't wait to get started on all the fun.

The excitement of the day led to another early night for him and I excused myself shortly after, declining the invitation to start practicing my Mario Kart skills.

After our conversation that morning, I was trying to keep a bit of distance from Chris. I wasn't mad and it didn't seem like he had any lasting feelings of annoyance either, but our earlier discussion proved to me that there was still tension and resentment between us. I wanted to let it settle and give him some space so our small disagreement didn't turn into a full-blown argument. Living together after everything we'd been through would be an adjustment period and easing into it would probably be the safest route.

So, I took myself off to my bedroom and lounged in bed watching some new mystery show on Netflix. I started it thinking it would just be a good way to pass a few hours until a reasonable time to go to bed but as usual with Netflix, I got sucked in and before I knew it, it was almost midnight.

I closed my laptop, knowing I needed to get some sleep as Grayson was an early riser, but I noticed the glass of water I'd taken upstairs with me hours ago was empty and my mouth was dry. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed, taking the glass to the kitchen to fill it up.

I crept down the stairs, assuming everyone would be in bed already, but I was surprised when I got to the kitchen to see the light on. I poked my head into the room and saw Scott sitting at the little island in the middle of the room, a drink in his hand and a melancholy look on his face.

"Hey," I greeted him, alerting him to my presence. "You're up late..."

"I was just FaceTiming with my boyfriend. He's in LA so it worked with the time difference."

"Boyfriend?" I questioned as I headed over to the sink to fill up my glass. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

"It's pretty new," he sighed. "We've only been together about a month now."

"That's so exciting! You didn't want to stay in LA and quarantine with him?"

"No, we thought it was too fresh for us to, like, fully move in together and if I was in LA and not living with him then we wouldn't see each other anyway, so I decided I may as well come here."

"That's really hard," I frowned as I pulled out the chair next to him and sat down. "I'm sorry that you had to make a decision like that."

"It's alright," he shrugged despite the sad look on his face. "A lot of people have had to make much tougher decisions than that lately."

"That doesn't mean you can't be upset anyway."

"I know, but I'll be alright. I'm just glad we've got so many ways to stay in touch." He flashed me a smile and I was glad to see it. Scott was a good guy and one of those people who was usually so positive and upbeat that it was hard to see him feeling down. "What about you? How are you doing with everything?"

"Oh, I don't know," I sighed. "Do you mean the deadly virus plaguing the world? Or the fact that I'm in lockdown with the father of my child who I have a fairly complicated history with?"

"Both," Scott chuckled as he sipped his drink of what looked to be whiskey. "But I was more referring to being here in lockdown with Chris."

"It's hard, but I'm doing okay. It's just a weird situation."

"It'll definitely take some time to get used to for both of you," he nodded. "He felt really bad this morning. He told me what you said about how offensive it is when he throws money at you all the time and I totally agree, but I hope you know his heart was in the right place. He tells everyone how talented you are, he would never want to belittle your career."

"I know," I winced. "I overreacted a little bit."

"No, not at all!" Scott assured me. "He needed to hear it. I've been on the receiving end of it too so I know how you felt, but he doesn't realize how it comes off some times. He's just trying to be generous and help the people he loves."

I nodded and I knew that I should just end the conversation there. Tell him that I understood what Chris' intent was and leave it at that. But my heart overpowered my brain and I found myself opening up before I could stop myself.

"I just don't exactly deserve to be on that list," I reminded him. "And I shouldn't take advantage of any feelings he might have for me after the decision that I made."

"You really do deserve to be on that list," he told me with a smile. "He's really in love with you."

"Love might be a bit extreme," I scoffed. "He's made his feelings clear, I know he cares about me, but it's not love."

"He's not made his feelings clear enough then," Scott countered. "Because he's been head over heels in love with you since pretty much the moment he met you."

My mouth went dry as my brain fought to comprehend that claim while all my instincts were telling me that it wasn't true. Scott wouldn't lie to me, he wasn't that kind of person, but he could be exaggerating especially since he had been drinking. There was an honesty in his eyes though, a look that told me he was telling the truth, but I couldn't accept it, it just didn't make sense.

"That's not true," I argued. "He only ever saw me as a friend until that one night and that night was a mistake."

But Scott was confident in what he'd shared and he shook his head.

"He never saw you as just a friend. You were his endgame from day one."

Perhaps it was a delaying tactic, perhaps it was a nervous response or I was subconsciously trying to buy myself some time to make sense of what he was trying to tell me, but a giggle slipped out at Scott's choice of words.

"Endgame? Is that an Avengers joke?"

"It wasn't intentional," he assured me with a laugh, but he was quick to get us back on topic. "But I mean it. We had a conversation just a few weeks after you met and he was talking about you like you hung the moon. He's been enamoured from the start."

I couldn't wrap my head around it. He was speaking with such confidence, but the words he was saying might as well have been another language. Knowing what I knew about our situation, how things had unfolded between us, how that first night together went down and the aftermath of it, there was no sign that Chris had been in love with me. He cared about me, that much I knew, but to be in love? That didn't add up.

Especially when I'd had those feelings all along as well. Surely, I would have noticed had they been reciprocated.

I'd fallen silent as my brain buzzed, scrambling for any gesture or obvious evidence that I'd missed that might prove Scott's claim, but when he spoke again, I was pulled from my thoughts.

"Do you not feel the same way about him?" He asked. "And there's no judgment here, I can see both sides. I love Chris and I want him to be happy, but I respect what you're trying to do."

I felt my heart rate spike again as my palms grew sweaty in a way that was becoming annoyingly familiar.

I was aware of the importance of this conversation, but I was also aware that I wasn't having it with the right person. If Scott was being honest then Chris must have had his reasons for not sharing the depth of his feelings with me and it felt sneaky and deceitful that I was finding out from someone else. It also felt wrong that the answer to Scott's question was on the tip of my tongue. Chris deserved to know before his brother, but I was tired. Fighting through this mess all by myself was wearing me down and Scott had always been one of those people that compelled you to pour your heart out to him. He was a better listener than most and I needed someone, anyone, to give me some kind of guidance. So the words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"I do feel the same," I admitted, my eyes firmly locked on the glass of water on the table in front of me as I worried I'd be too anxious to speak if I looked Scott in the eye. "I love him very much."

"Then why are you so scared to give him a chance?" He questioned. "Just because of Grayson?"

I nodded, but even I was starting to doubt my own motivations.

"We work together so well right now, but if we give it a shot and someone ends up getting hurt then we might not be able to put our feelings aside and keep things peaceful."

"But aren't you hurting each other every day that you spend in love with each other, but not together?" He pointed out. "Yet, you manage to put Grayson first through all that pain."

His words hit me like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.

It was an excellent point.

We were both hurting from being apart, it was clear from how defensive we got over silly little things like we had that morning. I could only imagine how Chris felt, but it was hard for me to be around him all the time and just keep things friendly when in my heart I wanted more. I ached at the sight of him every time I dropped Grayson off or picked him up, but we still managed to be friendly and polite through that.

"How many of those drinks have you had?” I teased earning a laugh from Scott. “They’ve made you too wise.”

"Not enough," he joked. "But it's true, isn't it?"

"It is true, but it's different," I insisted. "If we were together and broke up, that kind of hurt can come with a lot of anger. Right now, we might be sad or disappointed about the situation, but there's no anger."

"Oh, there was anger," Scott informed me, grimacing slightly. "After Christmas, when he came back from dropping Grayson off at your house there was definitely anger. He slammed doors, stormed around the house, got drunk off his ass and ranted about it for hours. I've never seen him that upset over being turned down before."

My heart sank at that news. I knew that he'd been upset, but I didn't think he'd taken it that badly. I thought he was just a bit sulky, but now my guilt intensified.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked, my voice thick with emotion. "I feel bad enough as it is..."

"Oh, honey, I'm not trying to make you feel bad," Scott assured me, reaching over to rub my back as I forced back the tears that had sprung to my eyes. "But it proves that even if one of you ends up heartbroken, you can still put Grayson first because you just did it."

"I didn't, Chris did," I pointed out after clearing my throat. "If it wasn't up to me, if Chris came to his senses and ditched me for some beautiful actress, then I'm not sure that I could be so forgiving."

"Why would he ditch you?"

As promised, there was no judgment in Scott's voice, just genuine curiosity and I shrugged as I answered.

"Because he could have any woman in America."

"Maybe not any woman, let's not get carried away," Scott smirked, his teasing tone making me smile. "But for such a relationship loving guy, don't you think it's interesting that he hasn't been in a serious relationship in about five years?"

That wasn't something I'd put much thought into, but it wasn't the 'gotcha' moment that it seemed like Scott had hoped it was.

"Not really. He's been busy with work the last few years," I pointed out. "And having a baby with me must have complicated his personal life a bit."

"You complicated his personal life the moment he met you," Scott insisted. "That's my point."

He sounded so sure of himself, but the words he was saying were still hard for me to comprehend. I'd always been so confident in my understanding of our relationship and if I was to believe him, it would shatter everything I thought I knew.

"I just don't see why he wouldn't have mentioned this by now..."

"You know how he gets with his anxiety. He's not always the over confident hotshot that people assume he is," Scott reminded me. "But you'll have to talk to him if you want more information than that."

I let out a sigh as I knew he was right.

"There's a lot that we need to talk about," I admitted. "Thank you for this though, Scott, you've given me a lot to think about."

"Anytime," he smiled. "And I completely respect that you're willing to put Grayson first despite whatever feelings you have. You're a wonderful mom and I would be proud to call you my sister-in-law."

I laughed at his outrageous leap from even considering a relationship straight to marriage and shook my head.

"You need to go to bed, Scott," I instructed. "You've clearly had too much to drink tonight."

"I probably have," he agreed. "But I meant everything that I've said. Think about it, okay?"

I nodded as I slid off the stool I was sitting on, wrapping my arms around him in a quick hug.

"I'm here for you too, you know that right?" I asked as I stepped back. "If you ever want to talk about your situation or vent and complain about the distance, whatever you need, I'm here."

"Thanks, Whitney," he smiled before dragging himself off his stool as well. "Goodnight."

I returned his smile and mumbled a 'goodnight' of my own before heading back to bed with all the new information that Scott had provided echoing around in my head. While it had been a very informative conversation, I wasn't quite sure whether I came away from it with the clarity I was looking for or just more confusion.

-

Part Three

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