#and then the top and bottom peaces come making it like a flower

[servicpop]

short n' sweet ♡ valentines day special　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　adrien ( delinquent oc ) x student president m reader

ⓘ　fluff fluff fluff ! jealous adrien , reader gets confessed to by a girl

A day where cupid strings his bow and aims his arrow at couples is the day you spend the most time stringing up heart decorations around the school. Its only a few small splashes of pink ribbons and red hearts since Valentines isn't a huge thing—some people simply don't enjoy it as much as Christmas or others—but it's a nice opportunity to liven up the school with some fun flare.

For the most part, you can see cheesy couples receive bouquets neatly arranged into something pretty for their partner or love letters being handed out the old-fashioned way. You weren't a big celebrator seeing as you didn't have a romantic partner. Of course the occasional chocolates being given to friends was a tradition you practised when nobody bothered to give you a flower or a sweet confession.

But this year was different.

After finishing the decorations, you took the time to wander the grounds before returning to your councillor room. It was early enough for the walk to be rather peaceful with the occasional wave to people you knew when they walked by. Reaching the room you, place your hand on the doorknob, twisting it until it makes that click before a hand plants on your shoulder.

“Been awhile.”

You turn your head to see him in the flesh. Adrien, with that shit-eating grin. It was completely out of character for him to show up so early—or show up at all. That fact alone sent shivers down your spine. A coincidence that he shows up bright and early on valentines day?

“Bit late but,” Adrien takes a moment to exhale before his eyes meet yours.

“Will you be my valentines?”

You stand there, blankly staring at him. No flowers, no chocolates and certainly no handwritten love letter stamped with a wax seal as you were wishing for. He couldn't have been this unromantic. For all you knew, Adrien was just some ill-mannered guy who weaseled his way into your life thinking he had you wrapped around his finger just because you two 'hooked up' underneath the staircase.

“No.” Short and sharp; unintentional or not. Sure you liked him, a little more than you'd ever wanted to admit, but Valentines was meant to be unrealistically romantic, a day where you can feel like you're living in those old romance films.

“What?” You could hear the confusion in Adrien's voice as he watches you brush past him and slam the door infront of his face, drowning out his complaints through the door.

That whole ordeal in the morning definitely wilted your mood. The entire morning session of classes felt like a drag as if time was purposefully going slower each time you glanced at the clock.

You were probably the first person to leave the classroom when you were dismissed, rushing out to your locker to reunite with your friends in hopes of charging your social battery.

“Hey— prez? I have, um, something for you.” The nickname felt like deja vu, like you've been called it countless times by a certain someone. But it wasn't him; it was a girl around your age or even younger. In her hands was a square, pink box with 'milk chocolate' printed in a cursive font. Her face was flushed pink and it looked as though if she met eyes with you, she'd melt under your gaze. On top of the chocolates was a pretty letter with equally pretty handwriting.

It undoubtedly made you smile even if it was just a little.

You accepted her gift, making sure you flashed a polite smile at her before watching her scurry off like it had been the hardest thing of her life to come up to you like that. It was charming in a way. You skimmed the letter which was mainly just her stating her appreciation for you and how she wanted to get to know you better with her name signed at the bottom with a small heart next to it.

A few of your friends who had just made it out of class had witnessed the whole scene, patting your back and pawing at the chocolates like hyenas. It wouldn't hurt to share the love, especially when your friends seemed like they'd die without sugar.

You let them all take one before sealing the box and placing it in your locker for later, you pocketed the note just so you didn't accidentally lose it or have it slip out.

Come to think of it, the more the day went by, the more you noticed a lack of Adrien. Usually he'd make an appearance by now, whether that was to stare at you with a smirk while you walked by eachother or to 'accidentally' brush your arm on any opportunity he got.

You made nothing of it though, it was probably because he thought today was boring—given all the couples would boast their affection towards eachother in the hallways—and decided to skip. It was typical of him to do so. But it still weighed in your mind all the way until the home bell rung.

Your locker was the last stop before you could go home, opening the metal door to see that your box of chocolates were gone; replaced.

Godiva chocolates in the shape of a heart, a letter sealed in an envelope, and a bouquet of flowers that look strangely like the ones from the school garden was neatly arranged in your locker.

“Do you like it?” You practically jump out your skin as your turn to see the man you haven't seen the while day.

“You put this here?” You ask, looking back at the gifts stuffed in your locker.

“Who else would— nevermind don't answer that.” You could tell from the furrowed set of his eyebrows that he was pissed off about something, like it bothered him enough to replace the chocolates you were given.

“I thought that maybe you didn't like how forward I was this morning.” It was one of those rare occasions where Adrien wouldn't have that cocky look on his face or that teasing lilt to his tone. He wore an almost shy expression, like he wasn't used to giving gifts this romantic.

“Seeing as you liked that girl's gift so much.” You could hear the venom roll off his tongue when he said that.

You glance down at what Adrien gave you. Godiva wasn't a cheap brand and those flowers would probably have taken Adrien awhile to personally pick and choose the ones you liked to plant in the gardens. Your heart flutters at the thought that maybe Adrien was gone the whole day because he was trying to pick up gifts for you, all cause he felt a little guilty.

“I know its over the top but—” “I like it.”

He pauses and stares down at you like its the most baffling thing in the world to hear you say 'I like it.' You look up at him, and you can't hold your smile back—this time, you smile wholeheartedly.

“Thanks, Adrien,” You look both ways to see if anyone was watching and you lean up to kiss just shy of his lips on the corners of his mouth. It was a quick peck as you almost instantly pulled back to pack up your things and walk past him.

He stands there, frozen in place before his own fingers touch his face, grazing over the spot you kissed him at.

There's a sharp bang of his fist against the neighbouring lockers as he internally crumbles, holding his face like he needed to shield what was left of your fleeting kiss.

A victory perhaps?

a / n ; dividers made by anitalenia , and the gift graphics are made by my dearest anby !

[keferon]

Getting lost (part 2/?)!!

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The humans were really weird today, they had treated him to a meal in addition to the frozen fish he got every day, and he had done nothing! His pool was closed to the public, which only happened when he had a medical appointment and he hated them. The feeling of apprehension clouded his thoughts, it steamed in his belly, resonated in his heart before intruding into his flesh and bones, filling his being with a tugging, a curious desire to search, to understand. With this thick cloud blocking his little world of thoughts and the many staff members circling around his waters, he only wanted one thing: answers.

He would have asked, he COULD have asked, but humans didn't like that. He often tried to talk to them, but the more words came out of his mouth, when his language went beyond simple things like "eat" and "hello", their gaze withered, in the same way that an overwatered flower would have done. The truth brushed the veil of their thoughts before being quickly rejected for coos of joy and excitement at the new words that the orca had learned. And they couldn't really hear him anyway, people he recognized as veterinarians thanks to their green outfits were standing behind the glass of his indoor aquarium and not on the platform they normally used above the water. It felt more like a check-up than a real intervention and he thanked all the deities he knew for that! But no verbal interaction for him.

That still didn't explain why his part of the aquarium was closed. The keepers liked to do their check-ups in public, and honestly it, reassured him not to be alone during them. Being alone made him feel empty, there was nothing to do, nothing to say....just him and himself. He loathed when his body became numb from inactivity, when even his emotions mixed in the melancholy of his thoughts to become nothing but noise without purpose or words. He knew that the more the days passed, the more the little world he tried to keep in a corner of his head crumbled and that one day it would end up collapsing. That day, he will have gotten lost deep enough to never get out again, and there are days when he wonders if he would do better to swim faster to the bottom, to stop the internal bomb that was sleeping inside him, to let the ticking of the clock stop for good and to finally be at peace.

Little taps on the surface brought him out of thoughts he didn't want to have, that he tried as best he could to hide. It was his signal, maybe everything wasn't completely different today? Without hesitation he gave a simple tail swipe that propelled him without any real force towards the air. It was much too hot for his taste, one of the big disadvantages of summer, which made him think that they hadn't provided him with any enrichment with ice recently, maybe they didn't have enough for the whole park? His gaze fell on his regular keeper, Brice, who gave him a gentle pat on the top of his head between his ears.

"Hi buddy"

He cooed before throwing him a fish from a basin placed next to him. Jazz caught it on the fly, creating waves under his weight that soaked the keeper from head to toe, making him laugh. He liked to make people laugh, he was good at it, and he knew that the more he did it, the more humans would come and the less alone he would be. While eating his meal (they were really generous today), he saw Brice talking to the veterinarians who had been behind the window a few moments earlier but also to other people he didn't recognize, inspectors perhaps? In any case, their conversation was clear, even if the humans, as usual, didn't suspect that he was listening.

"Are we sure that the procedure is possible?

- One hundred percent, Jazz is completely docile and has no wounds that could be infected by a mystery disease from the other.

- The new mer is clearly not docile, he has been trying to escape since he woke up. I recommend a gentle approach, a quick first contact so that they assimilate each other."

The orca's ears perked up and his food froze in his throat. A new mer? Here?? He seemed to pause in his rapid descent into the heart of his mind, a pause in the chaos as the numbers of the bomb stopped decreasing, all to listen, to confirm the growing feeling in his chest. Hope? Fear? Stress or just pure denial that something like this could happen? In his head, a new melody began to write itself.

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-🦇🐧

Part 2 is less poetic, I didn't have the strenght for it🥲 hope you still like it!

OOOOOOOOOAAAHHHHH I LOVE IT I LOVE IT I LOVE IT SO MUCH DKLDNFKELNDHFKF

[euphoria-looney]

This au makes my eyes watery, good job with the fic author🤩, this I can't help but be unsatisfied with the batfam, like imagine an au where (name) died brutally, like it was their birthday too. Ughhhhh pls author can you make this a fic???

👾🍑Anon

"When our hands grew cold, we just froze up~... I'm closing my eyes right now, I'm rewinding you again." Rewind by Wonder Girls.

(sorry the title is so long. I'm in love with the song.)

So Much More.

Special

Divider creds: @dollywons and @aquazero

“You made it just in time [name]” the salesgirl, Sherry, also business owner of the bakery cheered.

“Sorry, I know you have a date. I'll make this quick.”

The bakery was [name] 's favorite place since they had learned how to drive and even now when they have become famous, they make sure to drop by at least once a month making sure to give lots of cash into this place.

It held significance to them. Their comfort place.

Here they could do any assignments in peace, once when they were so nervous to play a piece at their concert Sherry had allowed them to practice at the cafe, it brought in a bunch of customers, and it gave them an ego boost certainly.

The glass cover that displayed all the sweets, Sherry, who would take in a personal request for cakes, whether that be a marriage cake, a gender reveal cake, or a birthday cake, she would do it.

Today would be a birthday cake.

The birthday person is getting it for themselves.

“Don’t fret that sugarplum. I wanted to stay just to give it to yah’ alrighty, here you go!” 

Handing over the cake that was in its plastic-designed box, it would be a surprise what the cake would look like and the flavor would be (f/f) Sherry knew them too well to make any other flavor.

“You didn’t bring anyone with you to keep you safe?”

I shook my head

“I wanted to celebrate it alone, not force my staff to celebrate it with me.” Sherry sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, I stayed behind to give you this cake and also say, happy birthday [name]” Sherry held her warm hands over their cold ones before letting them go.

“Thank you, Sherry.”

“Stay safe, [name]”

“You as well.”

Going on their phone they realized they had to run to the convenience store to grab some milk as they had run out of it the other day, and cake doesn’t taste as good without some milk, what they also didn’t expect was an armed robbery taking place at said grocery store.

It also didn’t help that Joker decided to attack not too far away.

Tonight would be a shit show.

They didn’t know what happened. One second they held their cake with one hand moving it so they could arrange where their grocery would go and the next thing they knew bullets lodged into them.

The cake splattered on the ground, comically, the top was intact with the words. 

“Happy Birthday, My Angel!” The top part is designed with frosted flowers. Then at the bottom part another message “The Spectacular [name]’s 23rd Birthday!!!”

‘Damn, Sherry did a good job with this one… it’s so pretty.’ [name] could only think in their head.

“Holy shit, you got them! Hurry, make sure they’re dead, and take the car, it's worth a good couple of bucks, no?” One of the robbers giggled and seemed feminine.

[name] could only stay on the ground feeling a leg kick their body flipping it over.

“Umm, just to be cautious, put a couple more in them.”

Three teens, two boys and one girl no older than 17(?) did said action.

Too bad they didn’t hit any major organs so [name] was left to bleed out, moderately fast, but still conscious.

They at least planned a will, it wasn’t something they imagined would happen.

Profits are split equally among their staff and handing over their business to Astro and Penny to cooperate. And they’re 100% sure nobody would want their dead body. And a bunch of donations to the Bakery, orphanages, shelters, and a personal share to Sherry.

“Hey, what’s with this car, fingerprint to start?!”

“Damn it, come on! Nightwing and Robin are coming over here!”

“I thought the Joker was distracting them!”

"We took too long, idiot! Crap the cops in front of us!”

“Put your hands in the air!”

“Search the area,” Nightwing told Robin.

“I was already doing that.” Robin sassed back.

“Holy shit! [name]?!” Nightwing spotted their body lying there.

“Hey! Hey! Stay with me!” He gently shook them.

“Stop that… you’ll make it worse.” They weakly shoved him, rasping out their words.

“What happened?!” Nightwing was afraid, afraid for his sibling, the one that had left the house 5 years ago, the sibling he’d never hang out with.

“You got to press on the wound to stop the bleeding…” They choked up before spitting out blood. It stuck on their chin, eyes slowly blinking.

They wanted to laugh. Maybe this is what frogs feel like blinking.

“I know that! Stop talking!” He squeezed them tighter, hoping to stop the blood by a bit. The sound and the pain made [name] wince though.

“Shit, I’m sorry, big brother is so sorry for yelling at you, I’m so sorry for everything, just hold on, please just hold on” 

[name] was going into a hysterical state at this moment. What are you sorry for? As a vigilante not being able to save a civilian? Or is it the years of neglect? 

“Did you find something?” Robin came over, only to be shocked himself.

“[name]-!”

“Don’t just stand there! Call for backup! Someone! Anyone!” Nightwing yelled.

“Don’t worry, I’m right here… I’ve got you.” Nightwing kept muttering to them, holding them close but… god, it wouldn’t stop flowing out. 

The blood.

“Hey, Dick?” That caught Nightwing- otherwise your big brother Dick off guard, you knew his identity?

“How-“

“I don’t wanna die…”

He froze suddenly feeling their body shake as their hot tear slipped out of their eye and onto his shoulder.

“Don’t say that, you won’t, I wouldn’t allow that…” 

Their sniffles were never-ending as they used whatever strength they had to grip his back.

“I want my mama…” they cried rubbing their head on his shoulder.

Dick could also feel tears well up in his eyes.

This isn’t how he thought he’d meet you again, but did he ever think he was going to meet you again?

He promised after this he’d never leave you alone.

All those years you’d chased after him why didn’t he try to also put in effort?

“… could you do me a favor?” They suddenly asked.

“Anything.” He answered immediately.

“Could you sing me happy birthday’?” They started taking short, shallow breaths.

Dick trembled before looking over to see the nicely decorated cake.

“Happy birthday to you~” he starts

“Happy birth-“ their hands start to drop.

“[name]!-“

“Keep going… keep going even when my hands drop, until you finish.” They clutch onto him, lower now, but they still gave him comfort even at this moment.

"Alright, alright." He nodded. "Don't think of anything, don't say anything, not even a word. Just give me a smile, " he asked in return.

They complied. Even in this abnormal situation they still wanted to celebrate their stupid birthday.

“Happy birthday, dear [name]~” he could hear himself hiccuping from crying.

“Happy birthday to you…”

“Again.” They demanded, little tears still coming out.

And like they commanded he obeyed, he kept singing to them even when their hand finally fell and their breathing stopped.

Even when they felt cold as a corpse.

He kept singing.

Hugging them tightly, no matter how limp they seem to be.

"Hey Dick, anything important tomorrow?" A small [name] appeared tugged on his shirt.

"Yeah sorry [name], Damian asked me to do something with him before you did, you understand right? You're older and Damian- he's been through a lot, hm?" Dick ruffled their hair.

"But it's-"

"Sorry, I have to leave now!" News broke out that another villain caused a ruckus in this city.

[name] could only rub their arm with their other arms, tears streaming down their face, as they could only sniffle.

"But... it's my Birthday..." They whispered to themselves seeing the retreating figure of Dick fade away.

—

It wasn’t even an argument that losing one of his children once was painful, so when Jason returned from the dead it only solidified his promise to himself that he’d never let another one of his kids perish.

It seemed he wasn’t the only one notified of what was occurring by Damian but everyone was.

When they showed up at the scene with medical equipment, it was too late.

Instead, stumbling into a Nightwing holding onto [name] 's corpse singing Happy Birthday to them.

—

At least they had a body to hold a funeral for this time around.

They ordered a glass coffin to preserve their body in.

Of course, out of common courtesy, they invited the people close to them.

The door to the reception slammed open.

(Why am I imagining the scenes in Miraculous with Adrien’s dead mom, ykw? Imagine [name]’s funeral exactly like that, the batfam are rich for a reason.)

“How dare you think you guys have any right near their body!?” In storms Penelope, and Astro also came in.

Penelope, a doctor at the highest medical institute known worldwide, approached the mourning family.

Astro had a cold look following behind.

Penelope took Bruce’s collar gripping onto him with pure rage.

“You guys want to play the part of the loving family now?! How about when they needed it?! Huh?!” 

Astro placed a bouquet below [name]’s coffin giving a prayer before putting a hand on Penelope's shoulder.

“That’s enough, pray respect to [name], there’s no point arguing with them. You should know but now with what [name] tells us, they’ve never cared.”

She scoffed before shoving Bruce away and patting herself off.

“That’s a lie! We did care for them.” [M/D] called after them right when they were walking out.

“Says the woman who kept pushing her delusional self onto [name], what? Were you trying to replace their real mother? Look at all that jewelry and that veil. Please, what is this fashion show for you?” Penny had to get held back by Astro.

“Show some respect! Be lucky we even invited you!” Damian retorted.

“Enough! This is a funeral, not your drama show.” Duke butted in, distressed by the situation, he didn’t know [name] too well but it’s not his fault… he didn’t even know you existed.

With that the silence ensued and everyone stayed to respect [name].

Here lies, [name], they did more than expected of anyone. From donating to building connections, there was so much more they could’ve done in their life. Wasted at the mere age of barely 23 years old.

Isn’t funny they died on the one day they were always alone on their birthday? Now everyone was there. Not to celebrate though.

May they rest in peace,

[name] [last name].

Penelope is 067 in my crossover fic and y'all know Astro and Sherry are the shopkeepers as well so yeah they exist in this au.

Halfway through I realized that I hadn't introduced Penelope in the other fic so... oops.

Also if the ending seems rushed or ass, don't mind it. ❤

Anyway hopefully the person who wrote this request sees this and everyone else too but just in case here is the taglist and anon 👾🍑, I hope you see this!

@cozmie @nxdxsworld @overcaffeinatedfreak @strwberryglass @leiiasurez @randomlyappearingartist @sirenetheblogger @a-lurking-fae @darktrashpoetry @frankie-moon3 @mynameisnotlaura @blackcat2270

[jayden-killer]

Aftermath.

Eddie's death took a huge toll on you and his uncle.

warnings: mentions of death, hints of depression, bad language.

A/N: jeez. I didn't want to, but I had to.👀 It's gonna be long, so grab the tissues. Also, my taglist is now open! If you want to be tagged in my next upcoming stories, comment below!

The feeling of emptiness that I was experiencing at that moment was not comparable to anything else in the world. Without emotion, my eyes did not move from the coffin placed around the attendees, arranged in a circle. Not many people showed up to Eddie’s funeral: his uncle, Dustin, Steve, Robin, Nancy, the friends from the Hellfire, a long-time friend of his, Ronnie, moved to New York to study. I was there too.

I didn’t mind getting dressed up well for the occasion. Why would I? On one hand, I know Eddie would have wished for the opposite, but on the other hand it was impossible for me to make the slightest effort. It had become impossible for me to try to carry on a healthy routine. Fiddling with my cold fingers, my gaze shifted to his uncle. Wayne Munson was wearing a black suit. I read on him the anger, sadness, pain, despondency and regret that characterized his gaze. A real sea of emotions. The bags under his eyes had become more prominent; he hadn’t even thought of shaving. I noticed that the silver beard had become much thicker since the accident. Dustin instead cried in silence, sometimes trying to contain himself, in vain. A few days after Eddie died he told me that he would have taken his place. That he should have thought of a plan B, that he should have gone with him to fight those monsters. "I made an appointment with a good tattoo artist. I will replicate his bat tattoo," he said with a forced smile. But of course. He didn’t want to show how hard he hit him.

Fuck. My fingers were tingling again. They felt the desire to hold something. Someone. I promised myself not to cry. I promised not to be so vulnerable, not to give in. However, how can I not give in when I know that my beloved is now about to be buried underground and I will no longer have the chance of having him here next to me?

Me too. I would have taken his place too, Dustin.

It seems like an eternity since Eddie was buried. The funeral had been held in a secluded area of the cemetery to prevent citizens of Hawkins breaking in with torches and forks. As a result, Eddie’s own grave lay far away from the heights, in a small hill. Just for safety and to avoid imminent vandalism. Unfortunately, this solution did not last long. There are those who had discovered where it was. So, when I happened to visit it, there was no lack of decorated inscriptions on the stone, in capital letters, like "satanist" or "burn in hell". Can’t even a dead man have some peace? I cleaned it from top to bottom, changed the faded flowers, tried to keep it in place each single time. The stupid people of this shitty town didn’t seem to want to give up. Even today it didn’t seem to be any different.

I inhaled and exhaled, kneeling on the ground and gently passing a hand over the red paint-soiled stone. This time they used a can. Even worse. I don’t think it will come off so easily. They had even left him some weeds that emanated a nauseating smell. Probably piss. "You are shits" It came out with disgust, not too low. I wanted to be heard.

At that moment I listened carefully. The steps became closer and closer until the mysterious figure turned around me. I recognized him from his build.

"Sooner or later they’ll stop." That’s all his uncle Wayne said, placing a bouquet of mixed flowers on his tombstone. He seemed… changed. I don’t know if to say in positive or negative; surely he had thinned his beard and fixed his hair. He also seemed to have lost a few pounds. I looked away, shook my head in sign of surrender. "For me it is absurd. Persecuted even by death". Wayne pulled out of a small bag he had with him a damp sponge. He scraped the stone and I noticed that the colour was coming off. Maybe it wasn’t as I thought. There was a tense silence; the only noise was the occasional passing of cars from afar, the chirping of birds. I feared that I had made a mistake in uttering that phrase, not until his eyes were on me. However, I saw him soften.

"Sooner or later they will tire themselves," he began, breaking into two the silence that enveloped us until a few moments ago, "and realize that it was not worth pouring all this hatred on an innocent boy."

Innocent.

Eddie was just that. Throughout his life he had always been mistaken for the criminal on duty, the one who performed sacrifices in the most remote classroom of the school and enjoyed doing so, but Eddie had never been anything like that. He was the boy who wanted to indulge in warm caresses and hugs after a busy day at school. He was the boy I admired because he could get in on the ball when it was necessary. He was the boy who showed love in the most unconventional way ever. He was just a boy mistaken for a sheep disguised as a wolf. The scapegoat of a city built on ignorance and skepticism towards others.

I swallowed with difficulty, taking a seat closer to his uncle, contemplating the stone now washed. Wayne then turned his eyes to me, and it was that look that caused a heartbreak. I could see through the dark irises of the mature man my dearest boyfriend, as if he had never left. This made me burst into tears and I did not try to stop myself as my body trembled from the sobs. I was so caught up in crying that I didn’t notice even Wayne did the same. With a hand pressed to the face, he sobbed, letting the tears flow on his cheeks and then fall on the ground below us, squeezing with force the sponge still moist. Immediately my thoughts went to him and the relationship he had with Eddie. Eddie himself confessed to me one summer evening that he was very close to his uncle, to consider him as a father. "Even if I never say it openly, I love my uncle very much" I remember that he said it to me with a mixture of sweetness, calm and affection, still feeling his ringed fingers massaging the base of my head.

He continued by telling me how his father, a very selfish guy called Al Munson, had abandoned him more than once, returning when the need arose. Wayne disapproves of his behavior, considering his brother a real thorn in the side and a bad example of father. When Al was arrested, Wayne had decided despite Eddie’s eighteen-year-old age that he should still go live with him. He did not lack anything: a modest roof, food, clothes. "Wayne will like you, you’ll see. Initially it is very on his own, but when you start to know him, he becomes unstoppable. He has a great repertoire of jokes". "Ah, so now I understand who you got it from!" I reply immediately, laughing heartly.

Eddie threw his head back, bursting into a genuine laugh that made my heart beat faster. How I would have liked to hear that melodious sound again.

It was too late by now.

Eddie was dead and the only consolation left was to share an excruciating pain with his uncle. Wayne Munson held me close to him; I let him do it. I was not the type of person who would be easily embraced, let alone by a man three times my age, but at that moment he felt the need. In the graveyard resounded our cries, our emotion, our sorrow for a person who would never return. A draft of wind ran through my bare arms. At the center of the stone laid an animal, a bat. A bat with dark fur, scratching his head with the back claw. With my eyes clouded by tears, I looked at the beast in confusion. Impossible. If reincarnation existed, then it meant that Eddie…

Eddie never left. Perhaps it was now his task to watch over us, to make sure that we did not indulge too much in the sea of despair that had accompanied us during that seemingly endless time. I didn’t call Wayne in time that the animal spread its wings, flying away elsewhere. A bat… with the sun so high. It had to be a sign. It was him. It might have been difficult to surface so fast. Eddie was here, though. Spiritually, he was there. And we would return to the shore successfully. Not today, not tomorrow, but we would reach it. I will never forget the true love of my life. And Wayne will never forget the son he loves.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @cowboylikemunson @zanate-in-the-stars @jeangeniex

[blueishspace]

On the Evolution of the Franken-skins.

If you have been following me recently you'll know I have made a few Franken-skins by merging the skins of every player, today I'll be giving my thoughts on them as we go through the evolution of Life series incarnate.

Third Life

The first skin and also the one that kinda looks like Impulse. As I said in the og post I headcanon the mess in the middle to be a wound filled with flowers.

I also get a militar-y vibe from it which makes sense considering Third Life was just a faction war.

Also, Double belt.

Last Life

The one that looks the most like Scott which is perfect considering who won... but with Joel's beard I have been told makes it Joker-looking..

You can also clearly see the Shadow-Alliance robes, they are very obvious, they look kinda bloodied and torn on the arms though.

Kinda interesting that Joel's red crown persisted while Ren's didn't in the Third Life one, wondering if you could get anything from that. The crown also looks like It's combined with the head in some way.

Double Life

I see a lot of Jimmy in this one, It's also look really simple.

It kinda has a bit of a light beard, that's kinda neat, also there's a difference in the bottom four pixels of eyes and the top two meaning It's confirmed that they have two pair of eyes.

I don't really have much to say about this one except that you can see Bdubs' clock stayed strong.

Limited Life

Lots and lots of colors here, my personal guess is that most of them come from Scott's and Martyn's coral layering on top of the outer layer of the bad boys jackets during the process of making this.

Talking about the bad boys , you can kinda see it also has a black jacket beneath the colors.

Really love those trousers though, they look really cool.

Secret Life.

A bit of a mess this one, they do have headphones though, you'll never convonce me that's not what's going on.

The green layer on their trousers make them look camouflage-y?? Baggy camo trousers.

They also have flower in their head, a small red one, guessing from Gem.

You can also see Joel's colored streak in It's hair, that's impressive.

Real Life

Another simple one, is it just me or do they look slightly more feminine then the others? It makes semse though, there were like 4 guys less then the other seasons.

You can also see Joel's hair streak even more clearly, the two pair of eyes thing is also really obvious.

I like this one, looks like someone's actual skin, it looks clean.

Wild Life.

Another super colorful one, this one is much more of a mess though.

You could say their outfit is... wild.

White belt is an interesting choice, It's hard to see but it looks to me they are wearing a sleeveless jacket of some kind. You can kinda see the hood on the back.

Headcanon is that all the colors are like leaves and flowers and growing on them as they are part creaking and therefore part tree.

Original/Peaceful form

The original frankenskin, the one I made using everyone's normal skin. It has been called many things:

Tubbo, Joey, Tommy, Scott.

The Scott one especially, everyone seemed to agree that this guy looked especially like Scott...and I see it.

Still, I find it interesting to search for everyone's contributions, it's fascinating to me.

Holy

This obe is brand new, a sort of true form made from merging every player's divine sona (when present, otherwise just a normal skin). Ocean goddess Lizzie, Santa Perla, Codfather, Stratos Joel, Angel Scott, Sun god Bdubs, Dungeon Master Tango and so on.

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Do Your Passed On Loved Ones Admire About You?

Hello beautiful people! Today's reading will be a lot more serious than normal so this is a warning for those who will get emotionally triggered. Your passed on loved ones are with you always! I am simply just passing on the message. My condolences to those who have lost a loved one in their lifetime. If you are interested in this reading, please don't be afraid to dm me so that you can book with me! Be sure to refer to my guidelines and dm me if you have any questions. Without further ado, please pick the image that resonates with you the most.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (1-6)

Pile One: Tenacity and strength are the first characteristics that come to mind. Your passed on loved one wants you to know that your childlike innocence is a gift not a curse. This could be your uncle. You are someone that can get the truth out of everyone simply because you know what to say. There’s not a lot that you have to say either. You’re quite the persuasive being. They also admire how level-headed you are. Some of your loved ones were more on the fiery side and because of that, they wish they could have been more balanced with their temperament when they were still here. However, this does not mean that you back down to a fight. You know when to open your mouth to protest against the injustices of the world. You have an undying love for humanity, nature and animals. You are so sensitive and precious to your loved ones. You also know when you’ve made a mistake. Your passed on loved ones see you as their Princess Diana. You’re kind and loving to all, but you fight when your back is against the wall or when others are being judged.

Cards Used: 6 of Cups, 7 of Wands, The Magician, 9 of Discs, Princess of Discs, 3 of Discs.

extras: blue ribbon ice cream. no limits. satisfaction guaranteed. mild. “there’s a lesson in everything.” monthly visits. crown. like mike (2002). lesbian. learning accommodations.

Pile Two: “You’re so cool” is the first thing that I heard. You are someone who is the standard. You are the Beyonce of your family. People try to impress you because you’re just that girl/guy/enby. You are an angel on earth. I feel like some of you were bullied when you were younger and this person came to your defense. This could have been an older sibling/cousin, maybe your mother who was younger than most. But you did not let these traumatic events harden you. You grew into a beautiful person. This pile as a whole went through a lot of back-to-back trauma in their lives but your passed on loved one wants you to know that they admire your peaceful approach to life. You are someone that is easy to bond with. I feel like you choose not to drink when the opportunity is presented because you have a bit of a temper when drunk. Your passed on loved one could have been the same way. You also have a fair way of viewing things. You try not to be biased when shown two sides of the story. You consider everything. You value the truth and the moral of the situation. Your integrity matters, Pile Two. Your passed on loved one wants you to continue to be this way.

Cards Used: Knight of Wands, Temperance, The Moon, 4 of Swords, Death, King of Swords, 6 of Discs.

extras: wet shirt. pushya moon. water sign. effervescent. sniffing flowers. moniker. “grown man.” glow. party pants. amazon. purify. NBA roster. sims 4 gaming channel. kawaii.

Pile Three: You are so humble, dear. Your passed on loved ones really admired your ability to talk to anyone. You never felt like you were above anyone. You treat everyone with the respect they deserve. You have stripped yourself down to the point where everyone can see through you clearly. You do not have to depend on material things to make up your self-concept. Your vulnerability is beautiful. It’s not a level of self-awareness that everyone can achieve. Some people may try to make you feel bad for where you come from but you carry yourself with nonchalance. That saying about sticks and stones is personified. Your passed on loved ones admire how you stay out of the way. “This is a crazy world” I heard. It feels like this is an elder talking to you. They believe that you will do big things in this world despite how little you have come from. You were not set up for failure. You have the tools to improve your situation.

Cards Used: The Star (RX), 6 of Cups, The Hermit, The High Priestess, Princess of Discs, Wheel of Fortune.

extras: neck tattoo. “kiss the ring.” ring around the rosie. martian. elephant in the room. malleable. solar system. troubleshoot. best buy. filled gas tank. empty condom box. snoring. aaliyah.

Pile Four: Your passed on loved one admires you in totality. This is your lover, could have been your fiance/fiancee. This also could have been your best friend. They miss your scent. They miss being in your presence, period. They love the shape of your eyes. They love the way you smile and tilt your head downward. You have this unexplainable quality about you that lights up the room. They know that life is different without them but they want you to keep going. Your go-getter, flirtatious nature is admirable as well. You have this lust for life that everyone should have. Your lover misses your physical touch. Your ability to get up every morning and go to sleep at night makes them want to come back down to Earth temporarily. Your person could have had some egotistical qualities about themselves but they love that you loved them with all your heart. They see you as their other half. They want to reunite with you in another life. This story is to be continued, my love.

Cards Used: Princess of Swords, 9 of Wands, 4 of Cups, King of Wands, 2 of Cups, The Lovers.

extras: eartha kitt. purr. austin powers costumes. chapell roan. meeting in college. musical.ly.

Pile Five: You take pride in your appearance. You stay in the gym to keep your figure right. You get your nails and hair done. You pick out the right colors for your wardrobe. You stay on top of your shit. But you also have this side to you that is in tune with the world around you. You have the perfect amount of both feminine and masculine energy to them. Are you a lawyer or social justice advocate? Your passed on loved one wants you to know that you can do all. You’re living proof that anything can happen. This feels like a male’s energy. He was a dominating force in the household and he was young. This could be your father or older brother. They are smiling down on how you have manifested everything that you two talked about. They were there in spirit when you made history/reached a milestone. They also admire how you keep in touch with family even after their death. They admire how you keep your promises even if it’s something that you don’t want to do. You need to learn to ask for help though and stop being so stubborn. They appreciate the altar you dedicated to them. If not, you need to. It would strengthen the relationship between the two of you.

Cards Used: Ace of Cups, The Emperor, Queen of Cups, Justice, The Star, 10 of Wands, 10 of Cups.

extras: quen blackwell. new workout plan (2004). ari fletcher. olivia pope. kpop bias. fallen curtain. sweeping feet.

Pile Six: When I pulled for you, I thought of the movie ‘Paid in Full’. Whoever your loved one is, they lived a dangerous/risky life at some point. But they admire how cutthroat you are. You get stuff done. You keep stuff moving. Your passed on loved one says that you have their swag. You have a lot of mental energy. You’re smart, both book and street smart. Your loved one says to stay safe and live life to the fullest; but also live it the clean way. They like how you stay outside in nature with the wildlife. I feel like you are the breadwinner or you at least have a lot of money saved up. You are attempting to gain financial stability at a young age and I can hear claps because of that, lol. Along with your practical side, they admire your outlook on life. You try to be as fiscal as possible but you also try to enjoy the fruits of your labor. You will party with a lot of people. I feel like your person was kind of uptight. I feel like you never miss a chance to make money. You’re a “hustler”, just like your loved one. This person feels like an uncle, a cousin, maybe your father.

Cards Used: King of Discs, King of Wands, 2 of Swords, King of Swords, 7 of Swords, Queen of Discs.

Extras: “keep it in the family.” “no one knows.” pork rinds. round glasses. beeper. shady business. groupme. “out of line.” solo dolo. throwback. paying tribute.

[babydollslibrary]

SPEAK NOW — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

published: July 19th, 2023

summary: in which y/n attends her ex-boyfriend, Quinn’s wedding and can’t hold her peace

it was the last thing i expected.

to receive the elegant white cardstock that sits in my hand. flowers of muted colors are printed across the bottom, cursive lettering across the top.

‘You Are Formally Invited to the Wedding of Quinn Hughes & Lindsay Carter’

it’s not that i didn’t think this day would come. quite on the contrary, i feared it would come sooner. i know firsthand how special Quinn is. i knew some lucky girl would lock him down. Quinn is the type of love that you never let go.

but i did.

i made the mistake of letting go of his love.

letting go of him.

and now i’ll be forced to watch as he marries another girl. one who provided comfort and a shoulder for him to cry on when i broke his heart. one who helped him glue the pieces back together after i left.

we had both known the risks. getting together despite the warnings of his brothers. and Jack was right.

“romance is not worth risking a lifelong friendship.”

because in the end, i lost both.

i lost the love of my life and my best friend since kindergarten.

now reduced to awkward tension at conjoined family events, and pity invites to major events like these. more awkward to invite me than it is to face me afterwards, knowing that i knew what was happening and was deliberately left out.

setting the invitation on the counter, i check yes on the guest list website on my phone. confirming that i’ll be in attendance.

despite the envy that weighs heavy in my heart, and the irrational feeling of betrayal that eats at me, i know i’ll feel worse missing this milestone in Quinn’s life.

**THREE MONTHS LATER**

i’ve had months to prepare for this moment. to guard my heart and get ready to watch the only man i’ve ever loved, get married to another woman.

and in spite of that, all i’ve done is the very thing i spent the last two years keeping myself from doing.

asking about Lindsay.

i never thought they would get this far. under the impression that this was a fling and wouldn’t last long. the only thing i knew for two years was that they were opposites.

Quinn is a responsible, down-to-earth guy, focusing on feelings and equality in relationships. whereas she was more materialistic; never attending Quinn’s games unless she was guaranteed a photo opportunity, using his card to buy luxury items, and according to Jack, constantly reminding Quinn how low he had felt before she came into his life.

and now, after asking around and learning everything i could, i can guarantee that Quinn doesn’t know half the things that i do.

i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she was a bully in high school, that that mean girl attitude never left. i can guarantee he doesn’t know that she brags to all her friends that she bagged a rich fiancé and she’ll never have to work to afford her luxury lifestyle, or that she has no issue in saying he isn’t attractive but his money makes up for it. and i know he doesn’t know she’s been sleeping with her personal trainer when Quinn is out of town.

and i know what i must do today, despite my nerves.

there’s still thirty minutes until the ceremony actually begins, and no matter how much i’ve steeled myself, i’ll never be ready to face the pity filled glances and the sympathetic words of Quinn and i’s families and friends. so, i wander the halls of the stuffy church, thinking about how unlike Quinn this all is.

perhaps he’s changed his mind since we had fantasizingly planned our own wedding. laid in bed, the golden sunrise lighting his face in a greek god-like way, speaking in hushed whispers, discussing our dream wedding. nothing like this one.

my feet pause on their own accord as yelling reaches my ears, and i identify the sound coming from an open door down the hall as Lindsay.

“are you stupid?” her voice drifts out of the room, carried by the empty space. “i told you to get nude heels, not cream!”

i make quick work to pass by the room, catching just a glimpse of the blonde bride, her fluffy white gown swallowing her.

heaving out a relieved sigh, i try to ignore the pounding in my chest, turning left down the hall and towards the main room. maybe it’s best for me to just get the pity and commiseration over with.

my heels click against the hardwood floor of the crowded room, and a hush falls over most of the right side. Quinn’s side.

scanning the room, i’m grateful to find Trevor and Cole. i know Quinn’s family is with him getting ready, but i at least have these two to bring me some comfort amongst the sea of strangers.

“y/n, you came!”

pop! the comfort bubble has broken. i thought i could trust Cole to treat me normally, but the gentle incredulous tone of his voice tells me otherwise. a mix of shock and sympathy.

“yeah, of course i did.” my lips quirk in a forced smile, shoving any resentment and nerves down deep inside me. “i wouldn’t miss Quinny’s big day.”

“y/n/n, you know you don’t have to act strong in front of us, right?” Trevor’s hand rubs my arm, providing the perfect grounding for me.

“yeah, no, i know that.” i nod. “but seriously, guys, i’m fine. i knew this day would come.”

“it’s not too late.” Cole jokes. “the priest does say that whole ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ thing, right?”

i let out a genuine chuckle at the deep and ominous tone he uses to imitate the priest; the first real laugh i’ve had all day. if only he knew.

i join Trevor and Cole in finding seats, sitting in the 4th row. not quite at the front, but also not quite the middle. i perch in the seat closest to the aisle, open for a quick getaway if needed.

the guys engage me in small talk, asking me about my job and frowning when i give the generic answer of ‘it’s okay.’

but i couldn’t tell them the truth, could i? that i hated it. that i regretted ever taking it. that it wasn’t the job that was bad, but rather that i was filled to the brim with resentment that it took me away from the man i love.

i knew i had brought it upon myself. i made myself this miserable. i chose this job over him. i got the internship and thought Quinn and i could withstand the distance while i was in Boston, but i was wrong. we didn’t make it more than two months before i was forced to watch our relationship crumble before me; knowing there was nothing i could do to fix us, i had to let him go.

i knew he would live on. i knew he would be able to put our relationship in the past. but i was only more disconsolate than ever. stuck in a mournful heartbreak. unable to move on and unwilling to try.

i’m shaken from my thoughts by Cole, who points out the mother of the bride walking down the aisle, signifying that the ceremony is getting underway.

i strain my back, twisting around in my seat. my eyes are drawn to the open double doors, where Quinn makes his entrance. his parents on either side of him.

my heart races in my chest, my nerves settling low within my stomach. he looks breath taking. but i can’t help noticing the lack of spark in his eyes. the once lively eyes that used to be so full of emotion, now seem empty.

my gaze tracks his movement, following as he walks down the aisle and to the altar, coming to a stop in front of the priest. his parents take their seats as he scans the room, seemingly searching, and when our eyes meet, he seems to stiffen. his back straightening and his jaw locking.

i can only hope my eyes convey everything i’m thinking.

i’m sorry.

please don’t do this.

his brothers are quick to follow down the aisle, decked out in navy blue suits, joining him at the altar as his groomsmen.

Jack’s lips quirk up in a smirk when he sees me, and he sends me a wink, but i can’t muster anything more than a simple straight lipped expression.

the next 20 minutes go by in a blur, a haze of bridesmaids and eventually Lindsay making her entrance.

“dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all men; and therefore - is not by any - to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly - but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly.”

the priest begins, and i’ve been to enough weddings to know what comes next. steeling my nerves, i take a deep breath in, letting it escape back past my lips with a silent whoosh.

“should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

a silence falls over the room, the priest looking out over the seated crowd.

my hands tremble by my sides, anxiety growing deep within me, but i know this is my last chance.

i rise to my feet, slowly and shakily. i can hear whispers start from the left side of the room, and i glance around to find everyone staring at me with horrified looks. everyone but Quinn’s immediate family and friends.

Jack and Luke share a glance before letting out relieved sighs; but i’m only focused on Quinn, who stares back at me with wide eyes and parted lips.

“go on.” the priest urges me, an annoyed expression painting his face.

Lindsay’s face turns red, hands balled into fists at her sides.

“don’t say ‘yes’.” i plead of Quinn.

“y/n-” he sighs, and my heart skips a beat in my chest, the well-known effect he has on me.

“you need to hear me out.” i beg. “Quinn, i’m sorry. i’m sorry i let us go, i’m sorry i didn’t fight harder for us, and i’m sorry i ever even took that stupid internship. but even if i’m too late to win you back, you deserve better than this.

“she’s been using you for your name and your money.” i continue, but Quinn squeezes his eyes shut in disbelief. whether he’s in disbelief of Lindsay or me, i can’t be sure. “and she’s been cheating on you.”

gasps sound out across the room and his eyes snap open wide again. his gaze flickers between me and his bride, who has now turned a pale white; all color draining from her face at my accusation.

“she’s lying! she just wants you to herself! she had her chance and she lost it and now she doesn’t want you happy.” Lindsay cries out.

“i have it on good authority that she’s been sleeping with her trainer when you’re out of town. you know i wouldn’t say anything if i weren’t completely sure. if i didn’t have proof.” i tell him “and you don’t deserve that. you deserve someone who will be absolutely head over heels, purely, and loyally in love with you. and i’m not saying that i’m that person for you. this isn’t me begging for a second chance, even if i am still out of my mind in love with you. i just can’t stand idly by and watch you make a mistake. i can’t let you marry her without knowing the truth.”

i take a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. silence plagues the room, astonishment written all over the faces over every guest in attendance.

“okay, that’s all i wanted to say.” i purse my lips and nod, stepping out into the aisle. my heels click against the floor as i make my exit, not staying to see the outcome of my outburst.

***

i sit on my couch, staring at my hands fidgeting in my lap; my phone shut down entirely and sitting face down on the coffee table in front of me, not ready to face the consequences of my earlier actions.

a movie plays on my tv, but i pay no attention, only having put it on in attempt to escape my thoughts and avoid the quiet.

it’s been approximately twelve hours since i objected to my ex’s wedding. now midnight, and my anxiety has not lessened. i have no clue whether Quinn carried on with his marriage or if he took my words to hold the truth. too afraid to find out.

i’m broken out of my trance by a heavy knock sounding out on the door of my apartment, and i stand frantically. i expect that it’s Jack or one of the many other friends in attendance of the wedding this afternoon, but my heart rate picks up when i look through the peephole to find the very man i confessed my love to today.

my hand shakes as i unlock the door, opening it to reveal Quinn. he’s no longer in his tux, rather adorning sweatpants and a t-shirt, but he still looks handsome to me.

“Quinn.”

“i didn’t say my vows.” he rushes out.

“what?” i question, fearing i heard him wrong.

“i didn’t say my vows.” he repeats, pushing past me and into my entry hall. “she tried to deny what you told me, but i trust you. i held my ground, and she confessed everything. you were right.”

“Quinn, please.” i plead. “i’m happy that you’re not upset with me but i can’t-”

“i’m so glad you were there.” he cuts me off, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him. “were you telling the truth?”

“Quinn, you just said she confessed-” i push against his chest, tears gathering in my eyes.

“about being sorry. about still being in love with me. were you telling the truth?” he clarifies, his free hand coming up to hold both of mine in his clutch, and my arms go slack.

“yes.” the tension in the air is palpable, and i’m unsure whether it’s worrisome or comforting.

“say it again.” he breathes out, a subtle smile resting on his lips.

“i love you.” a lone tear spills over my waterline, rolling down my cheek. “i am absolutely and irrevocably in love with you.”

his lips crash upon mine in a bruising kiss, finally letting go of my hands in favor of resting his right one against my cheek. i stiffen against him, seizing up in his hold, and he pulls back. his eyes scan my face, his face etched in worry.

“did i do something wrong?” a hoarse whisper, our faces still millimeters apart.

my hands raise to cup the back of his neck, pulling his lips back down to mine. my eyes flutter shut,this time it’s slow and passionate; holding my heart on my sleeve as i pour my soul out to him in the form of a kiss.

he pulls away, pressing his forehead against mine, but my eyes remain shut. we’re both silent, nothing but the sound of our mingling breaths and the tv lowly drifting in from the other room.

“i love you too.”

[minkdelovely]

kinktober — day XXVII

prompt: sex pollen

the pollination of angel dust

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Alastor x Angel Dust ; RadioDust ; MDNI 18+

tags/warnings: top!alastor x bottom!angel, handjob, blowjob, overstimulation, masturbation, anal fingering, mentions of pain/raw skin, minor blood warning, mentions of dry orgasms 🥀✨

word count: 6.1k

summary: valentino sent a bouquet of flowers imported from the lust ring and angel has been doing his best to manage on his own, but can’t seem to break the fever when alastor shows up and proposes the offer of an afterlife.

author’s note: sunday, sunday, sunday! this wasn’t supposed to be as long as it ended up being, but here we are lol this prompt was quite the challenge for me, but i hope you enjoy it, and i’ll see y’all on thursday for the kinktober finale ♥️

coven: @fraugwinska @hazelfoureyes @macabr3-barbi3 @sugoi-writes @synamartia 🕯️♥️

the coven's kinktober masterlist

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Angel being absent in the evenings wasn’t unusual, as Valentino typically enjoyed having him work through all hours of the night. What made his empty chair ominously noticeable today was that everyone knew he was home. But they all had their right to choose — free will was Hell’s burden to bear, wasn’t it? — and Angel had missed meals before. Usually catching up on some much-needed sleep or just decompressing after days of grueling shifts. So his absence was noted, briefly discussed, and moved on from. 

Or it would have been, had Alastor not been the one in charge of making dinner.

While everyone else began to work on cleaning up, Alastor took it upon himself to go see what kept their coquettish spider so preoccupied that he couldn’t deign to join them downstairs. Had Little Miss Muffet come to exact her revenge? The Radio Demon’s cackle was the only thing that lingered in the dining room as he dissolved into shadow. 

When he manifested in front of Angel’s room, cloche in hand and ready to disturb the peace, Alastor’s eminent knock was interrupted by a wanton mewl on the other side of the door.

Ah. Not a good time… Perfect!

The smile on Alastor’s face grew as he poised his fist again and waited for another loud moan before rapping it on the door, effectively sending Angel into a scramble. Alastor’s keen ears picked up on all of it: the cursing, the ruffle of bedsheets, the groans of anguish from being forced to stop what was no doubt an enthralling pursuit of self-pleasure.

“Whoever the fuck is out there, you know I’m busy — so scram!”

He didn’t even have the decency to open the door and dismiss Alastor to his face! It was an insult to injury that could have gone unchecked, but where was the fun in that? So Alastor knocked again, purposefully silent. Let their little celebrity find out who he was talking to like that the hard way.

There was more cursing and grumbles. Alastor refreshed his posture and smile with a shimmy as he heard the star in question stomping towards the door. He had expected Angel to throw it open and give him hell but he merely cracked it. The golden chain of the door lock still dangling loosely in the meager amount of space.

“What?”

The insolent tone of voice was the most egregious slight thus far. Not many sinners in this roiling pit had the courage to give Alastor real cheek. Yet here he was, on the receiving end of a five-star glare that he had to tilt his head upward to meet. Not a pleasant experience, but Angel’s upset was intriguing — and impressive — enough that it kept his own irritation at bay.

From what Alastor could make out, the poor fellow did seem to be in dire straits. It was clear that his robe had been donned and tied in haste. The pink silk haphazardly wrapped around most of the tall, lithe body underneath it. Hair fussed and sweaty, pieces of it clung to his flushed face in a way that gave Alastor a sudden urge to swipe it back. Though he quickly dismissed the lingering trait from his childhood, recalling how put upon he felt when Mother would do exactly that — grooming him when he hadn’t done a good enough job himself. She simply couldn’t abide by unkempt hair, and in turn, neither could he.

It wasn’t just his hair that was off — though Alastor now noticed the matted tufts on the demon’s usually coiffed chest. Angel’s eyes were glossy and blown, his flared temper only adding to the lust that radiated from them. A telltale emulsification of sweat and arousal wafted through the crack of the door, underlaid with something Alastor couldn’t pinpoint, just short of floral. 

Perhaps a candle to set the mood?

Alastor fought to keep his hackles down. Whatever it was, it burned in his nose and sent a rippling tingle through his body; every strand of hair on edge with a lovely sting.

“You weren’t at dinner, so I’ve brought it to you,” Alastor said amiably, but his smile hid venom as he brought the cloche into view from his left. “I hope you didn’t skip out because I was in the kitchen today. I put a lot of care into it, you know.”

“Look, Alastor. I’m not in the mood to play along with one-a-ya shitty games right now, capisce?” Angel’s voice was stern but short of breath, and Alastor had a fleeting thought that he might be suffering from some illness until the echo of a moan resounded in his ears. No. It was too frivolous a remedy, even for the adult film star. “Just… leave it on the floor and I’ll grab it later.” 

The door was resolutely shut in Alastor’s face, dissolving the remnants of his patience.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

Angel let out a sigh of relief after closing the door. Of all the motherfuckers in this hotel to come a-knocking, it just had to be Alastor… 

The Radio Demon had easily captured his attention when he showed up here all those months ago. Since then, he had managed to smother most of the embers of his attraction toward the notorious Overlord, but in his current state those feelings had gone molten; pooling heavy in his lower belly with an agonizing ache.

Even now, Angel Dust could smell him. That spicy, earthy signature cut through with something unknown — dangerous,  even — still lingered in his nostrils, despite the barrier of the door. He groaned in frustration, letting his forehead fall gracelessly against the door as one of his hands hastily brushed away the silk of his robe to tend to his incessant erection.

Angel hissed in pain as his palm made contact, his dribbling cock raw and inflamed. How many times would this be now? It felt like hours since the first wave of arousal had woken him from sleep. When jerking off a few times hadn’t done the trick he changed tactics, and was fucking himself through round two on his favorite dildo when Alastor interrupted him. But if he was being honest, he had completely lost count of his orgasms. A fact made worse as the last couple had been dry.

Something was wrong… he just didn’t know what. Maybe Val had slipped him something this afternoon before he left the studio? He knew it wasn’t Valentino’s pheromones, being very familiar with the effects, and this was unlike anything he had experienced before. He’d do just about anything to be rid of this pain and fever, heating him from the inside out. Every beat of his heart was an uncomfortable throb in his pulse, reminding him of his predicament like the sinister ticking of the extermination clock. Angel choked out a sob, grip loosening until his hand fell away from himself as his top right fist came down harshly on the door.

“I seem to be interrupting all sorts of private moments this evening,” Alastor said sardonically, drawing a yelp of shock from Angel before he recollected himself. 

“What the fuck are you doing in here? I told you to leave.” Angel’s anger tapered off, dulled by the quiver in his voice from tears he was trying desperately to hold back. Whether they were from the pain or shame, he couldn’t know, though it was likely both.

Alastor didn’t answer. He had his nose in the air, sniffing the room before his face pinched with displeasure as he zeroed in on the bouquet of flowers from Valentino. They had been delivered just as he had gotten back to the hotel earlier, and in his desire to keep their existence to himself Angel had brought them up. He had plans to toss them into his fireplace but decided against it once he made it upstairs. They looked pretty in his room, and why take his frustrations out on harmless flowers? Though the letter peeking through the blooms remained unread.

Angel watched as Alastor approached them, almost vindictively, hovering over them with his arms crossed behind his back as he inspected. He took another sniff and recoiled, the ever-present hum of his static shrieking like feedback on a bad mic as he brought a hand up to cover his nose. Even his ears had gone stiff, as if petrified by danger.

“What, ya got allergies or somethin’?” Angel joked, unable to fight the small laugh that escaped him. 

The pain wracking his body was momentarily forgotten as he observed the Overlord. He didn’t notice that it was beginning to shift from agony to desire now that Alastor was in his room.

“Allergies,” Alastor scoffed under his breath, putting himself to rights with a tug at his lapels. “No, dear, I’m afraid these flowers must be the cause of your,” he gave a pointed look to Angel’s flagrant problem as he searched for his next word, “…affliction. I don’t recognize them as any breed that’s grown here. They’re twisted.” 

Angel cursed. Of course Valentino would skew a romantic gesture into something obscene.

Alastor merely hummed, then proceeded to summon an opening to a pocket dimension in which he quickly disposed of the devious flowers. When the portal shut the air in the room was immediately lighter, and Alastor breathed a sigh of content. His face plastered with the saintly look of a job well done.

“Where’d ya send ’em?” 

Angel couldn’t help but ask. If they really were the reason why he’d been suffering, he hated the thought of them causing harm to someone else. Well… no one in the hotel, at least.

Alastor leveled his eyes on him from across the room, his grin wide and superior in the way someone with a secret always was. “A dump, where they belong. But I fear the damage is already done. Tell me, what was the first symptom so I know what to expect?”

Angel Dust wrung his hands, a fresh onset of arousal spreading through him as Alastor’s scent replaced the aroma of the flowers. The cadence of that transatlantic voice making his cock twitch with interest, erection briefly forgotten but not gone. Why was it suddenly so hard to think? He was trying so hard to answer Alastor’s question, but words evaded him. Disappearing from his mouth like popped bubbles.

It didn’t help with the way Alastor was staring at him, a cat eyeing the canary. This is a look that normally would have given Angel a healthy dose of apprehension, maybe even fear, but at present it was smoldering. He was practically naked, something that didn’t typically bother him, but under the scrutiny of Alastor’s gaze he felt as if he was being examined under a magnifying glass. Leaving him bare and tinkered with like…

Like a plaything.

There was a sourness in his mouth at the all-too-familiar dynamic, and he found himself panting, stomach tight as Alastor sauntered over. Casually removing his coat and draping it over one of the armchairs as if Angel was the guest in this room and not the other way around. Alastor crooked a finger under Angel’s chin once he was close enough, and Angel properly whimpered. Helpless as another dribble of precum soaked into the silk of his robe.

“Cat got your tongue? Or is that too on the nose?” Alastor teased, smile goading and voice sultry; crimson eyes piercing him like needles. 

“Fuck you,” Angel managed to retort, but the heat he needed to land the barb escaped him in steamy puffs of breath. 

“I’d like to extend an offer,” Alastor said guilelessly, ignoring the insult, “since we find ourselves in need of each other’s help.”

“Help with what?” 

He sounded far away from himself, as if speaking from another room. Having Alastor this close was fucking with him; endocrine system not knowing whether to ramp up his testosterone or cortisol levels. With the way his heart and loins were hammering, it most likely doing both.

“Poor fellow, you’re in quite a stupor, aren’t you?” Alastor chuckled. He took one of Angel’s hands and brought it to his lap to cup his forming erection, drawing a gasp from the younger man. “As you can see, I’m already suffering the side effects from those damned flowers.”

The words had barely registered before Alastor returned the gesture in kind, the soft leather of his glove a surprising balm to the irritated skin of his cock. Angel crooned and let his head fall back with a thump against the door as Alastor gave him a few exploratory strokes, and all but cried when his thumb pressed into the slit.

Alastor clicked his tongue in mock admonishment. “I expected a professional would know how to better care for themselves. Look how red you are, poor thing...”

Angel squirmed, gasping, unable to hold back the fresh tears that stung his eyes from the bliss of Alastor’s hand pumping him. “I do,” he protested, “but if what you said is true — mmm — then those f-flowers did somethin’ to me. And nothin’s worked all — fuck!” 

He groaned as his cock kicked, a small rope of ejaculate painting the top of Alastor’s gloved hand. Angel hadn’t even felt the onset of this orgasm, but did feel the relief of it for the first time all evening. His body shook as another little spurt spilled out. Meager proof for what had been his best climax so far.

Alastor hummed pensively and brought his hand up to his mouth, licking the glove clean with two wide swipes of his tongue. He seemed to ponder over the taste of it for a moment, then shrugged it off. Some internal debate settled as that same hand gave a tug to the handsome bow at his neck. His eyebrows perked up as he began to roll up his shirtsleeves, as if forgetting that Angel was fighting for his sanity in front of him. 

“Shall we take this to the bed?” 

Angel was still trying to process what had just happened, but couldn’t deny that he was already feeling a bit better after the handjob, rudimentary as it was. Still, something about this just didn’t seem real. Alastor offering to go to bed with him? He had to be sure, lest he embarrass himself further.

“If you’re serious about this you actually have to fuck me. Ya know that, right? No cuttin’ corners just usin’ those tentacles ’a yours,” he said warily, searching the Overlord for any signs of a gag.

“Clever boy,” Alastor purred, smile wide as he extended his hand. The sight was about as comforting as a loaded gun, and Alastor hummed when Angel stared down at his open hand for a moment too long. Adding a singsong, “No strings.”

“No strings, huh?” Angel couldn’t help but be a little skeptical, being very familiar with the demon’s reputation. “You ain’t gonna make me sign for it?”

Alastor chortled. “Of course not! This is between gentlemen. What do you say?”

How the fuck did he end up in this situation? To think that if he had just tossed the flowers like he wanted, he would have had another mundane evening under his belt. Instead, Valentino just proved that he would never change, and left Angel holding the bag as usual. What was he even trying to achieve by sending those fucking things here, anyway? If Valentino knew what the flowers would do to him (and Angel had a really hard time believing he didn’t), it’s not like he was here to take care of the result. The thought alone made Angel nauseous, a shudder wracking his body that left him feeling dirty.

But it was Alastor standing before him now. Alastor, the enigmatic Radio Demon, whom Vox both adored and detested. While Vox certainly wasn’t the only one who felt that way towards the guy, knowing this was all somehow tied to Valentino helped. He’d be lying if he said he never thought about what fucking Alastor would be like. After all, that blowjob he offered when they first met wasn’t completely for shock.

Let’s see just how serious he is…

“Can I suck your dick?” 

In a flash so quick Angel thought he had almost imagined it, Alastor’s face lit up in surprise before settling back to his usual facade, his open hand curling into a fist. But he didn’t answer, instead pooling into shadow to re-form on the edge of Angel’s bed; fingers dancing on his thighs while he spread his legs just enough to show off the growing bulge in his trousers.

“I suppose you’ve waited long enough for your chance.”

It shouldn’t have had the affect on him that it did. Angel had seen more than his fair share of men in the exact same position after making such an offer. While his erection had yet to weaken, he was surprised at his capacity for lubrication, embers of lust burning just under his skin as he knelt before Alastor with as much dignity as he could muster. God forbid he appeared over-eager, even if he was. 

There was just so much mystery surrounding the man before him, it was hard not to let his imagination get away. Angel was already impressed by his size, swallowing the saliva that had began collecting in his mouth as he tentatively palmed Alastor through his pants. The jerk of his hips caught Angel off-guard, but only made his own arousal worse.

Sensitive, huh?

Under normal circumstances Angel would have teased him, draw it out with strokes and licks over his pants until Alastor was begging for his mouth. But he had the distinct feeling Alastor wasn’t the type to to beg, and he didn’t really feel like testing his patience to the point of being thrown around like he was at the studio. Since, under normal circumstances, Angel wouldn’t even be here in the first place — removing Alastor’s belt and unfastening the button, his own groin tingling with anticipation as Alastor sighed with relief through his nose. A small, shaky sound with momentous impact.

It was enough to make Angel give in to his impatience, his need to really see what he was working with too great to delay any further. Alastor was right. 

He’d waited long enough.

Angel sighed when he pulled down Alastor’s pants and boxers, moaning a little despite himself as he watched Alastor’s cock trying to win its battle against gravity, straining under its own weight. He was thick and uncircumcised, causing Angel’s mouth to water again with the desire to see more. If he was already enjoying the dark tan color before him, he couldn’t imagine what else lied in store when he eventually got around to revealing the head. 

“This has gotta be Hell’s best-kept secret,” Angel said, grinning as he looked up to Alastor’s face, which had grown rather red. “I shoulda known you’d be packin’. The quiet ones always got somethin’ up their sleeve.”

Alastor shifted self-consciously, smile strained as the flush of his face crept down under the collar of his shirt. “I’ll take it as a compliment, but I suggest you put that mouth to better use before I change my mind.”

Angel thought about responding. He had several sarcastic quips in his back pocket for instances such as this. Work would do that to you after a while — quite literally suck the joy out of things — so you had to find the fun where you could. And his idea of fun right now was to make Alastor eat his words. He wanted to see what this mouth could do? 

So be it, then.

Without further delay to his own gratification, Angel Dust took him in hand, soaking in the gasp Alastor tried to swallow as he pulled back the skin; greeted by the flushed tip, a deep rosy hue that complimented his tan so nicely. Big and beautiful? Some assholes were just born lucky, Angel supposed. He was, of course, included in this exclusive group, but it was a rare treat to be able to indulge in a gorgeous cock that wasn’t his own.

Angel started slow, circling his tongue around the glans and relishing the salt of Alastor’s skin, heightened by his musky scent. Not unaware of the little sounds Alastor was still biting back; something that Angel was more than willing to rectify, when the time came. For now, he was happy to ease into it. Planting a small kiss right over the slit before treating the rest of him, Angel’s hand gently working the head as his trail of kisses traveled down. 

He could have cried for joy as Alastor adjusted himself, legs spreading further to give Angel more access. Even daring to take a testicle into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the bulb and sucking while his hand continued its massage. Alastor was breathing heavily through his nose, losing the battle to keep his breath even as Angel switched testes. If he wasn’t so dedicated to giving Alastor’s balls the attention they deserved, he would have smiled as he felt the first wave of precum sink under his fingers. Already feeling so satisfied and he’d barely gotten started.

Angel pulled off with a purposefully salacious pop, working his hand further down Alastor’s shaft now that he had some lubricant to work with. He could have easily grabbed some — Lord knows he wasn’t lacking in supply — but earning it was always nice. Jumping in with both feet was something he related more with being at the studio, and he was off the clock at the moment. No lights, no cameras, no shitty actors with even shittier hygiene. 

He was in the comfort of his suite, with Alastor on the bed willingly letting him have his fun. Was the circumstance anything like he thought it’d be? No. Angel fought back the anger he felt simmer in his gut at the reminder of Valentino’s gift. The silver lining being that Alastor, for whatever reason, decided that the only way to get through this fever was together. It would be a secret they’d take to their figurative graves, and if Angel was being honest with himself, it was more than he could have asked for. A memory just for him.

The moan that left Alastor as Angel’s mouth finally surrounded him was sublime, his own dick weeping steadily as he sunk down to the base. Practically smothering himself in the wild scent of Alastor’s manhood, relishing the soft hair that tickled his nose. Even better was how quickly Alastor’s hand found itself grabbing at Angel’s hair while his body jerked from pleasure and shock as Angel slowly bobbed his head; refusing to let this be just another sloppy blowjob. Not that he had anything against them (Angel enjoyed them quite a bit) but having someone gag and choke and gasp and drool all over his dick just didn’t seem to be Alastor’s style.

Angel whined as he felt Alastor twitch and grow in his mouth, swallowing down his saliva now delightfully flavored with the salty-sweet of Alastor’s arousal. It reminded him of the kettle corn he would get on Coney Island. A treat he was only allowed when he had been on best behavior running errands with his Ma, and he found sucking Alastor off to be just as gratifying. 

He didn’t even notice how his hands were gripping Alastor’s hips until he felt the Overlord begin to rock into his throat. The hand in his hair still held firm, the slight sting of the pull against his scalp only spurring the star on, widening his tongue to press it up against the pulsing vein as a reward for Alastor’s growing enthusiasm. Made evident by the static-laden gasps and groans he was freely making, complimented by the wet sounds of Angel’s mouth as his throat relaxed to let Alastor chase his fun.

Not afraid of a little mess, after all…

His lower set of hands busied themselves cupping and massaging Alastor’s testicles, the wanton sound that he earned from it one he vowed to sear into his memory for safekeeping. He could tell that Alastor was getting close, pace stuttered but flirting with brutal as Angel focused on making sure to keep enough air in his lungs. Not that he doubted his capacity, but he hadn’t exactly planned for the sudden face-fucking, either. 

He risked a glance up, and what he saw almost didn’t seem real. Alastor’s head was tilted down towards him, but his crimson eyes were shut tight, framed by his sweat-damp hair. The blush from earlier had truly bloomed from the fever, the glow contrasting handsomely against his complexion in a way that was almost irritating. Sure, red was his color, but did every part of him have to rub it in? 

But the real showstopper was his fumbling smile. Alastor’s patented grin gone soft and trembling; gossamer strings of saliva connecting the lips of his open mouth, looking like dew drops on a spider web. 

“Fu — haahh, Anthony, I —”

Angel moaned at the sound of his name on Alastor’s tongue. Nearly sobbing as he felt and tasted the first shot of cum, fastening his grip on Alastor’s hips to keep him in place as he swallowed every bit that he received. It tasted different than his pre, more on the bitter side, but not unpleasant. Angel was finding less and less things to associate with that word when it came to Alastor, a worry blossoming in the back of his mind that he’d have to think on more later.

For now, he focused on savoring the moment. The taste, smell, and feel of the Overlord before him. The little jerks and shudders of aftershock slowly beginning to subside as Alastor’s breathing evened out, loosening the grip he had on Angel’s hair before falling on his back; a static hum vibrating in the air, sounding the way he always imagined a sleeping beast from a fairytale would.

Alastor was far from asleep though, grumbling over the persistence of his erection as he hastily tugged at the buttons on his sweat-dampened shirt. The effects of the fever digging in despite their efforts. Angel could understand the frustration, his own member practically screaming for relief. He knew his own touch would only bring pain and irritation, resolving to do his best to ignore it, but found himself growing eager. The lingering taste of Alastor’s skin and semen in his mouth warming him from the inside out.

“How many times do ya think we need to try before it goes away?”

“I think there’s only one way to find out, darling,” Alastor replied, sounding a bit out of breath. “Why don’t you come up here and join me?”

To his surprise, Alastor didn’t pat the bed, but the top of his thighs. His knees still bent over the side of the bed while the rest of him laid flat. Angel crawled up, fighting through the stiffness that had begun to settle into his bones, and settled himself over Alastor. Sighing as strong, large hands held his hips and red eyes roamed his face. 

Without thinking, Angel reached up to remove Alastor’s monocle. For such a small thing, its absence made quite the impact. Alastor’s face, much like the rest of him now, laid bare for no one else’s eyes but his own. Angel took in the sight, crimson splayed over the pink cotton of his duvet. With Alastor laying in the center of it, his hair and open shirt was reminiscent of a pool of blood. Angel found it fitting — gruesome and glamorous all at once. He was struck by the urge to kiss him, and drew his bottom lip between his teeth to keep it at bay. Alastor only smiled, one of his fangs poking out from his closed lips while his hands massaged the star’s narrow hips.

Angel cleared his throat and looked up and off to the side where his discarded toy and bottle of lube laid haphazardly on the sheets. He was just able to reach the bottle, and proceed to rub a generous amount over his hole; feeling the blush warm his face from being watched. It was a little funny… Angel Dust was used to this, enjoyed it, for the most part. But something about having Alastor’s eyes on him while he prepped himself made him feel shy, as if he were seeking some kind of approval despite being the professional.

The slick sound of his fingers filled the gap of their silence, punctured by little whines and heavy breaths. And still, they maintained eye contact. The intensity of Alastor’s red eyes was smothering, and it felt nice to know that Angel wasn’t alone in his need for more.

“Okay, that should do it,” Angel said, and shivered at the sound of Alastor’s eager inhale of breath. “Ya want me on top, or should we switch? I don’t care either way, just make it quick cuz I can’t wait anymore.”

Alastor laughed and gave him a playful slap on the ass, the unexpected gesture heightened by the words he spoke next. 

“Get on your back.”

Angel complied with an embarrassing speed, dismounting from Alastor’s lap to scramble up the bed. Hastily removing his robe to gather his discarded dildo in before placing them on the floor to give them a cleaner space to work with. His chest was heaving as he watched Alastor shed his shirt and slacks, and couldn’t help but to finally touch himself; moaning loud as Alastor crawled up the bed while running his tongue over his teeth. 

He sighed as Alastor grabbed his legs and hitched them over his shoulders, pulling him close as he lined himself up with Angel’s entrance. Alastor sunk into him with one swift thrust, their groans of relief harmonizing as they both paused to adjust. He didn’t give Angel too long of a wait, slowly receding before slamming back in. Alastor’s thick length forcing him open with a delicious stretch as he steadily pounded Angel’s ass. His hand remained busy on his own cock, doing his best to stroke in tandem but failing from the force of Alastor’s body rocking into him.

Maybe it was from the wait, but Angel was shocked to feel that prominent tightening in his belly so soon. The promise of another orgasm adding to the haste of his hand as he keened. A high, wanton sound ringing out over mounting static and bit-back groans, elevating the crude noise of wet skin-on-skin. They were already so drenched in sweat, the fever in full force as the men desperately sought to break it.

Angel didn’t even notice that Alastor’s nails had dug into the skin of his thighs until he saw the blood trickling down, and found himself clenching around that delicious cock in response. Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, his hips stuttering from the sudden tightness before resuming his pace.

“Oh fuck, Alastor, please don’t stop. Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop,” Angel begged, breathless. Tears beading at the corners of his eyes as the molten heat in his abdomen boiled over, his climax hitting him with a force he hadn’t felt since his first time.

Somewhere under his cries of rapture he heard Alastor curse with a gasp, the feeling of the Overlord’s release sending him over the edge as his orgasm renewed; his dick twitching against his stomach, shamelessly painting himself with a fresh wave of his own seed. The relief was exquisite, the heat in Angel’s body noticeably dropping as Alastor gave him a testing thrust before resuming a slow, deep pace. Seemingly unfazed by fucking his spend into Angel’s ass, for which the star was grateful. It felt too good, and he’d hate to point it out and make Alastor squeamish. 

“What an improvement,” Alastor observed, his voice thick and low, eyes glowing with a hunger that made Angel whine. “Feeling better now, my dear?”

Though his mouth was open, Angel could only nod his head in answer. Rolling his hips to meet Alastor’s thrusts as they chased another high. His head was clearing up, and he was determined to get Alastor to finish first this time. There was no way of knowing just how many rounds they’d need to go to get through this, but Angel was feeling hopeful that it wouldn’t be too much longer, at least for himself. 

He watched, mesmerized as the antlers on Alastor’s head began to grow. Spreading out like roots until they had tripled in size, handsome and stately and entirely befitting the head they adorned. Angel couldn’t help but reach out, his desire and curiosity to touch them overriding his sense of propriety. To his delight, Alastor noticed his unspoken question, folding Angel’s body beneath him as he lowered himself enough for the star to reach out and grab his brow tines. Earning a delicious moan from Alastor from the touch.

Their faces were so close now that they were breathing the same air, a dizzy feeling building in Angel’s head as he lost himself in Alastor’s unrelenting eye contact. 

“You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, ya know that?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them, moaning as he felt Alastor twitch inside him. He let his other hands roam the expanse of Alastor’s furry chest, relishing the groan it drew from him as his brow furrowed. “Can’t wait to see you cum again… got a front row seat this time.” 

He felt another throb as Alastor gasped, grinding his hips in tight circles, his steady pace unravelling as buried himself in Angel’s heat. 

“That’s it, baby, I can take it,” Angel encouraged between breaths, seeing stars with every pass of Alastor’s cock over his prostate. Doing his best not to blink lest he miss the face he was so eager to see.

“Anthony…”

There it was again. He didn’t even know how Alastor knew it, but the sound of his name in that filtered voice was a weakness he could have lived without. Knowing that it would haunt him as he tried to sleep for nights to come. That he would recoil the next time he heard it from someone else’s mouth instead…

With another cry of his name Alastor shuddered, his face scrunched in pleasure as his orgasm wracked his body. Angel took it all in, his body squeezing out every bit of Alastor’s essence while his eyes memorized the flushed, handsome face. Every bead of sweat, every misplaced strand of hair. The heat of Alastor’s breath on his face, huffed in invisible clouds of steam. His upper hands were still latched to Alastor’s tines, the others gently caressing the man as he sloppily rode out his high. 

It wasn’t until Alastor collapsed on top of him that he realized he didn’t experience his own orgasm, and found that the absence of it wasn’t painful. His body felt to be back to its usual temperature, his head light but clear as he waited for Alastor to pull out. Not that there was a rush. There was no way for him to know the time, but he wasn’t ready to turn back into a pumpkin.

“I think my fever’s gone,” he says anyway, his voice quiet as Alastor nestled his face in Angel’s chest. “Thanks for puttin’ up with this. I know…,” he sighed, searching for the words and settles on, “I know it’s not somethin’ we woulda done under normal circumstances.”

Alastor hummed, pensive. He still hadn’t removed himself, and Angel couldn’t help but find it oddly comforting. “I’m not so sure I’m out of the woods yet. I’m typically not so… voracious.”

Angel laughed a little, content to pet Alastor’s back while he figured it out. Seeing as this would most likely be a one-time thing, he figured he should get his money’s worth. So to speak. 

“Hey, your secret’s safe with me. A gentleman never tells, ya know.”

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

The even sound of heeled boots echoed in the empty hallway as Lucifer made his way to the doors of his penthouse. He was in a lovely mood, whistling a tune that hadn’t deigned the ears of mortals for centuries; his right hand flourishing his apple-adorned cane like a baton. 

His mirth died with the song on his lips as he took in the vase of flowers on the floor, recognizing the breeds that made up the bouquet as genuses that only existed in the Lust Ring. Lucifer bent down to pluck the card out of the pink and maroon blooms and grimaced almost immediately.

Thinking of you, Angelito. Call me when you feel the burn. ~ Valentino

Lucifer shuddered and incinerated the card, furiously wiping his hand on his coat in disgust as he opened a portal to V Tower. 

Seems like a certain Overlord needed to remember his place.

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧     ✧     ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

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[bananababblegigglemuffin]

Night Time

Note: fluffy smut not really smut. bTW LOGANS PERSPECTIVE

The room was hushed, save for the faint whispers of the television playing Moulin Rouge. It was three in the morning, yet here we were, wide awake. I could feel the warmth of your body against mine, each breath bringing me closer to peace — or as close as I’d ever get. Insomnia was second nature to us both, though for different reasons. My mind often drifted to battles and old memories, while you, love, seemed to be up for an entirely different reason. A reason that, right now, was wrapped around my waist.

"So, sweetheart, what’s got you so giddy tonight?" I teased, nudging you slightly, hoping for one of those infectious smiles that lit up even my darkest hours.

“Well, Lo,” you began, a mischievous glint in your eyes, “I went shopping today with Jean and Storm. You should’ve seen the dress I found. It’s this amazing burnt orange tulle dress — the perfect shade for fall! But I don't have anywhere to wear it…”

Ah, your voice had that lilting disappointment, the kind that made me want to punch a hole through anything keeping you from your happiness. But this was a problem I could fix. “Well, Bub, how about I take you out this Saturday?” I offered, hoping to see that look of surprise in your eyes.

“THIS SATURDAY? YES PLEASE!” you almost squealed, practically bouncing in place. It reminded me of a kid in a candy store, and I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face. Watching you light up like that was damn near one of my favorite sights.

“God, that means I've got two days!” you gasped, pulling yourself off my chest, looking as though you were about to pull off some high-stakes operation. I propped myself up, watching you dart across the room with all the energy of a firecracker. You opened the closet and then cast a glance back at me, that sly little smirk of yours.

“I know that look, babe,” I chuckled. “Of course I want a show! I’d be a real hoser to decline, sweet cheeks.”

You slipped on the dress and twirled around to show it off. I wasn’t prepared for what I saw. The dress was perfect — understated up top with full sleeves, its burnt orange color dotted with delicate purple flowers that practically screamed autumn. But it was the bottom that took my breath away. You looked like some kind of goddess, moving like a whisper across the room.

“Give me a 360, babe,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. You turned, and that’s when I saw it — the low, daring U-cut in the back, held together by barely-there crisscross laces. My breath hitched. You were a vision, and the cool room air only enhanced the way your skin glowed.

“Oh, goddess, you've got me weak in the knees here," I murmured, my voice a little rougher. "Come back here. I need to worship you.”

You giggled but obliged, slipping out of the dress and crawling back into bed, pressing yourself into the white comforter like an angel. My hands found your bare back, fingers trailing patterns along your skin. I was lost, drawn to your scent, breathing it in as I nestled into the curve of your neck. I brushed over you, feeling every little reaction beneath my fingertips. “Lo, you’re so nice,” you murmured, and I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped.

“I’m nice to you, love,” I whispered, more truth than any promise I’d ever made.

"Okay, enough of that. Let me help you this time," you said, pulling yourself up and straddling my back before I could argue. You settled yourself just right, leaning down and pressing your hands against my shoulders, kneading with a surprising strength. I could feel every curve of you, and it was enough to make me bite back a groan.

“Turn over, wolfie,” you giggled, a sparkle in your eye as you leaned in. I gave a little grumble. "Baby, you don't have to do this," I insisted, knowing full well how stubborn you could be. But you'd made up your mind, and I knew resistance was futile.

I turned, letting you position yourself above me, and couldn’t help but feel the warmth of you as you applied lotion, massaging my shoulders, working your way down to my chest. Your touch was slow, deliberate, and I was practically melting into the bed beneath you. I could feel every bit of you pressing against me, warming me, leaving me in a state I could barely describe.

You moved slowly, massaging my biceps, and even my hands, taking your time as you knew well how to do. My hands slid up to your waist, resting there, simply feeling the rhythm of your movements. The closeness, the heat, it was everything I’d ever wanted and never thought I’d deserve.

Then, just when I thought I’d have a moment to breathe, you shifted, sliding down a bit lower, your hands exploring down my abs. “Sweetheart, this is supposed to help me sleep,” I muttered, feeling the low rumble of laughter in my chest. But you just smiled that mischievous smile, your fingers never slowing as they traced the lines of my chest, inch by inch.

Your fingers teased at my skin, each stroke soft but intentional, a reminder that you knew exactly how to drive me wild. Every touch felt like a jolt of electricity, something I could feel down to my core. And when you met my eyes with that sly grin, that sparkle of confidence, it nearly undid me.

My breath hitched as you leaned forward, lips grazing my neck, barely a whisper against my skin. The world outside was silent, but inside this room, it felt like we were galaxies away, locked in some kind of cosmic, timeless dance. I wrapped my arms around your waist, pulling you closer, feeling every part of you pressed against me.

“You’re really trying to get me into trouble, aren’t you, sweetheart?” I muttered, grinning as I tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. You just giggled, your cheeks flushed with that look of mischief that was so perfectly you. “You’re the trouble, Logan,” you whispered back, running your fingers over the scar on my shoulder, tracing its path, knowing it like a map you’d memorized.

There was something about these late hours, these shared, stolen moments. The way you looked at me, the way you didn’t shy away from any part of me—the rough edges, the scars, the parts of me that even I couldn’t stand. With you, it all seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a warmth that ran deeper than anything I’d ever known. I tilted your chin up, meeting your gaze, and in that instant, I felt completely bare—no defenses, no walls. Just us.

“Do you even know how dangerous you are, darlin’?” I asked, running my thumb across your cheek, brushing against that soft, flawless skin. “You’ve got me wrapped around that little finger of yours, and you don’t even know it.”

You just smiled, your hands slipping into mine, fingers intertwining. “You’re my dangerous one,” you whispered back. And then, in that calm, quiet moment, you leaned down, pressing your lips to mine. The kiss was soft, unhurried, the kind of kiss that felt like it could last forever. I could feel every ounce of your love, your care, in that single touch.

Our breaths mingled as the kiss deepened, the world outside fading even further. I ran my fingers along your back, trailing down your spine, feeling every shiver, every response. The connection between us was undeniable, electric, like a fire that refused to be put out.

“Sweetheart,” I whispered, voice rough with emotion. “You’ve got no idea what you mean to me, do you?”

You pulled back slightly, eyes meeting mine with that gentle, unwavering look that somehow held the entire universe. “I think I do,” you replied softly, your voice a gentle hum against my skin. “I know, Logan. And I’m not going anywhere.”

We lay there, entwined in each other, wrapped up in the warmth of our shared space, of the peace that somehow seemed to exist only in these quiet, stolen moments. You tucked your head beneath my chin, your arms draped around me, and I held you close, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against mine.

Eventually, I felt your breathing slow, your eyelids fluttering closed as sleep finally began to take hold. And for once, the nightmares seemed far away, held at bay by the warmth and comfort of having you by my side. I let myself drift off, holding you close, knowing that whatever battles lay ahead, I’d face them with you.

As sleep took its sweet time arriving, I held you close, feeling your breathing slow against me. The quiet warmth of the night wrapped around us, and I ran my hand along your back, tracing gentle patterns like I was memorizing every detail. You looked up at me, a sleepy smile dancing on your lips, and it was like seeing sunlight after a long winter.

“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you murmured, eyes half-closed, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“Darlin’,” I replied softly, brushing a kiss against your forehead, “I’m not going anywhere.” The way you nestled into me, resting your head in the crook of my neck, made me wish I could somehow hold on to this moment, freeze it in time. The world felt perfectly right with you beside me, like every broken part in my past had finally found its place.

You were playing with the edge of my shirt, a small, absentminded gesture that felt so intimate. “I think you’re my safe place, Lo,” you said softly, your fingers tracing small circles on my chest. “No one’s ever made me feel like this.”

It was a confession that hit deeper than anything, a truth spoken in the small hours of the morning. I didn’t have the words to answer, so I wrapped my arms around you a little tighter, letting the silence fill with everything I couldn’t say. With you, it was more than love; it was peace, something I hadn’t thought I’d ever have.

We lay there together, breathing in sync, the stillness of the room pressing in like a comforting blanket. The flicker of the television cast a soft glow over you, and I reached over to brush a strand of hair from your face, just so I could see you more clearly. The gentle light played on your features, illuminating that spark in your eyes, and for a moment, I forgot about everything else.

I brought your hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to each of your fingertips, feeling the soft warmth of your skin. You let out a small laugh, that soft, delicate laugh that had the power to make the hardest parts of my heart melt. "Logan," you whispered, voice light and full of affection, "what did I do to deserve you?"

It was a question that I often felt myself asking. "Sweetheart, I think I’m the one who's undeserving here," I replied, pulling you even closer, savoring the feeling of you against me. "Every time I look at you, I know I’m the luckiest damn man alive."

You tilted your head up, eyes meeting mine with a look so full of love it almost hurt. Slowly, you brought a hand up to my face, your thumb brushing over the rough line of my jaw. There was something in your gaze, something that made me feel like you saw right through me — the scars, the history, the hard edges — and somehow still loved every part of it.

We stayed like that, wrapped up in the quiet comfort of each other. And even as the hours stretched on, I didn’t feel tired. I could’ve held you there forever, listening to the soft rhythm of your breathing, the gentle beat of your heart.

After a while, I leaned down and kissed the top of your head, breathing you in like you were the last bit of oxygen I needed. “You know,” I murmured, resting my cheek against your hair, “I used to think I’d be alone forever. But you—well, you changed that.”

You looked up at me, eyes bright despite the soft haze of sleep. “Logan,” you said, a little smile tugging at the corner of your lips, “you and me, we’re not alone anymore. We’re a team, remember?”

“Yeah, darlin’,” I replied, feeling something warm and steady settle deep within me. “We’re a team.”

And in that small, quiet moment, with the early morning light just beginning to creep in, I knew that whatever the future held, as long as I had you by my side, I could face it. This was what I’d been searching for all along — not just love, but a home. A place to rest, to finally be at peace.

Holding you close, I let myself drift, your warmth anchoring me to something real, something good. This, right here, was everything I ever wanted, wrapped up in the arms of the only person I’d ever let myself truly love.

end.

author: i hope some of you liked reading it! please do comment and reblog, it means the world to me

[shadamyheadcanons]

Hi there, hope you're doing ok! I was wonder what are your headcanons for future!Shadamy when they are together and growing old. What are their jobs? Shadow is still at G.U.N.?Where do they live? How do their dynamic evolve as Amy ages physically (and they both age mentally obviously)?

For jobs, they’ve got options. I’ve written Amy as a florist in headcanon 29, a baker in headcanons 15 and 176, and a kindergarten teacher in headcanon 254. Florist and baker both jive with canon. She’s been shown to like flowers, and it’s natural to put a Rose in a garden.

For baking, there’s official art of her making baked goods, and she says in a Sonic Station LIVE vtuber special that she’s apprenticing at a cake shop.

Top, wallpaper on Sonic Channel

Bottom, Sonic Pict May 2021 on Sonic Channel

Sonic Pict February 2020 on Sonic Channel

[link]

The kindergarten teacher angle works for me because she works well with kids. She’s not a Mom Friend, but she has a strong nurturing side:

Whatever she does to pay the bills, I think it’s important that she has a way of giving back and helping others. I could see her actively doing volunteer work. Frontiers has a detail I really like where she apparently goes back to check on places that have been impacted by Eggman’s destruction:

“Yep, but...I’ve seen this kind of recovery in areas Dr. Eggman damaged. Something ruined this land, and it’s barely begun to recover.”

She was always a helper even when she needed help more than anyone. I don’t think she could feel completely happy if she didn’t have the chance to give back in some way. It’s not enough for her just to whack a villain with a hammer and leave.

Shadow and Amy have significant overlap in this regard and could very believably be coworkers. He likes flowers just like she does; there’s been a lot of buzz about this lately, but for those who haven’t seen, they have a very extensive line of matching cherry blossom memorabilia, just for the two of them. Calendars. Bags. Hats. Thermoses. Shirts. It lines up nicely with the idea of Shadow calling Amy “Rose” as a term of endearment, which I’ve always liked. His fondness for flowers is “canon,” and by “canon,” I mean it’s in Lego Dimensions. When it comes to outside canon, I pick and choose what to count for my headcanons based on how in-character the event feels, and Shadow feels very in-character in that game, funnily enough. Lego gets it right.

Regardless of whether it’s a job, I love the idea of Shadow gardening because he’s very much a “protector,” and I think looking after smaller things would do him a world of good. It’s tangible, manageable, and rewarding in a way that protecting the entire world usually isn’t. That’s why I had him adopt Rosie. In headcanon 134, I wrote Shadow volunteering at a Chao shelter and inviting Amy to join him, and he became a guidance counselor in that headcanon above about Amy being a kindergarten teacher.

Sega seems to want us to believe Shadow and G.U.N. are on good terms. I don’t buy it. The only way I can see him happily working with them is if someone like Rouge gets put in charge and does some serious work to turn them around, like in headcanon 280. Even then, I wouldn’t say it’s ideal; I don’t want Shadow to have to fight his whole life. I can’t see him giving up fighting entirely to become a pacifist, but there’s more than one way to help the people of Earth, and he deserves peace, preferably with his friends and a delightful pink hedgehog by his side. And speaking of Amy’s motherly tendencies and Shadow feeling fulfilled by looking after little ones, I want them to have a couple kids, too. She canonically wants kids...

[Weird scene from Sonic Battle. Can’t believe there’s an honest-to-goodness typo in this finished game]

...and once most of the fighting is over, I think Shadow would crave some sort of focus and center in his life. Fatherhood could do that for him.

Silver has to come from somewhere, after all.

I like to put them in a cottage by the edge of the woods—far enough to enjoy nature and have peace and quiet when necessary, but close enough to the city to visit their friends. Big probably lives nearby.

As for growth and aging, most of it makes me sad. One-sided immortality can do that, especially for someone who experiences emotions as strongly as Shadow does. Check out headcanons 255, 238, 101, and 83 if you want to feel sad. Headcanon 286 is bittersweet. Headcanon 273 is nice and cute, though.

I hope you like links. Thanks for the question!

[lurantis-lura]

Here you go gay people on my phone. Gay robot flirting.

Hannah was having a good time at the beach party. There was an open bar, good food, and music. Her friend Nat had run off with a few boys, which was good for her but… Hannah and Nat didn’t share a type is all. And Nat had been the only person she'd known here. So she sat on a towel nursing a margarita and deciding if it was time to leave.

It was a hard choice to make, she'd bought a new swimsuit for the party, and the sun was only now setting. The beach sand was soft and there were plenty of pretty women to watch dance. So she sipped her drink in peace.

As she shamelessly watched the dancers one caught her eye. It took a moment for an opening in the crowd to give her a good view. She'd first thought they'd had an artificial limb or two, something that was getting more popular nowadays, but after a shuffle in the dance put the person in clear view she saw otherwise. A white-plated robot, distinctly feminine in appearance with a sleek boxy head and a pink visor. The robot wore a two piece swimsuit, black hip skirt and a one shoulder top. A black petaled flower was tucked into one of two antennae on the side of her head.

Hannah watched the robot in fascination. When had she arrived? The others on the dance floor didn’t seem put off by her. The robot danced with the rest of the party goers, swapping partners once and a while as she drifted in and out of the crowd. Hannah didn’t even consider that she'd been staring until a new song came on. The robot glanced her way, and though she had no face to see with, it was clear she was aware of Hannah's looking.

Hannah tried to play it off, sipping her drink and looking elsewhere, but it seems she'd caught the attention of the robot. The new song demanded swaying hips and the robot did not disappoint. Hannah once again stared, perhaps a bit more blatantly this time. Subtlety had sailed. That said, a mild panic struck as the robot slipped from the crowd and walked towards her.

“It's generally rude to stare at a girl when she dances,” the robot said as she stood in front of Hannah, one hand on her hip. “You can apologize by letting me sit with you here.” The robot had a stilted way of speaking, not emotionless but lacking any clear indicators. But there were infections, slight but present.

Hannah nodded, scooting over slightly to make room. “Yeah, make yourself at home. Sorry for staring.”

The robot sat with a thump. “It's alright, I wouldn't be dancing like that if I didn’t want to be looked at.” She leaned over slightly, allowing Hannah to hear the soft hum of her fans. “I'm T4-1, but you can call me Tai.”

“Hannah. It's nice to meet you Tai. Forgive me asking, but isn't a beach party a bit of an odd place for a robot? Ya know water and sand.”

Tai shrugged. “Perhaps, but I am waterproof. No, it was mostly an excuse to wear this.” She tugged on the bottom band of her top. “Sand is a problem, but less of one than you'd think. Did you come here with someone, Hannah?”

“Yeah, but she ditched me to go off with some guy.”

“What? Left you here alone?”

“Yep. Considering leaving early.”

Tai sounded a shocked note. “Well that won't do. Pretty girls shouldn't be left alone at parties.” She stood, holding her hand out to Hannah.

Pretty? Hannah grinned and took Tai's hand. Dancing with a robot would be novel. Tai led her towards the other dancers. Several songs later Hannah was winded and laughing. They retreated back to the towel she'd brought, but this time they faced the waves and surf.

“Don't know why you weren't dancing. You're pretty good,” Tai said.

“It's easier with someone to dance with.” Hannah smiled as she studied Tais visor.

“Aw well you're sweet.” She paused for a moment. “You didn't seem interested in anyone else there. Why's that?”

Hannah flushed. “Ah well, I've never danced with a robot is all. New experiences.”

“Ah you're a fan of new experiences?” Tai placed a metal hand on Hannah's thigh, causing her to flinch slightly.

“Well, yes. That's what I said didnt I?” It was what she'd said. She did mean it. The robot next to her was a new experience. Hannah leaned in, placing her own hand on Tai's metallic thigh. Cold metal.

“Watch your fingers.” Tai said as she matched the lean, the soft tickle of air from the fans in her chest brushing against skin.

Hannah pulled her hand back, but was surprised when Tai caught her by the wrist. “Sorry I-”

“I said watch your fingers, not move your hand. Im a dreadful pinch hazard if you're not careful.” Tai placed Hannah's hand further up onto Tai's hip.

“I see,” Hannah whispered. In the heat of the moment she leaned in and planted a kiss on the robots visor. She was satisfied with the surprised beep she got in response.

[bandgie]

Predator & Prey

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

smut!Nonhuman

synopsis: You were suddenly teleported to a snowy world while discovering a cave. After norrowingly escaping a terrible fate, you're practically forced to deal with a winged beast you saved. It's awkward and kinda mean, but it does more good than harm.

warnings!: I think this counts as dead dove, there's some gore (stabbing, blood, bone breaking) in this chapter. there's also monsterfucking, but it's not in this chapter (no smut... yet), reader is also is a scary situation but you'll make it out okay :)

a/n: I love monster fucking, I am part of the community and I pray this reaches the right audience cuz im not tryna be shamed!

5.4k words

You wore a cute spring dress, being that it was Easter. You did not favor the color white or yellow, so you when with a shade of pink that went nicely against your skin. The dress was decorated with small flowers at the bottom of the dress that touched your mid thigh. You wore open-toed wedges made it a little difficult to walk in, but you could manage.

Though you liked hunting for eggs, pictures were probably your least favorite part. Then again, you're sure it was everyone's least favorite part. Your family was looking for another spot to take a picture, so you were free to explore the terrain of the area. Your family had chosen a secluded beach, not many people but too many caves. You opted to watch the beach, the waves softly splashing at your feet.

Your peace is broken by your younger sibling calling your name, signaling that your parents have found a place for pictures. With a sigh, you grab your shoes and walk barefoot on the sand. Then you feel it, a cold breeze washes over you that send chills down your spine. Your head whips around, arms wrapping around your body as you look at your surroundings. Sure it was windy, but it shouldn't have been that cold.

You're about to ignore it when you feel the gust of wind again, now realizing it's coming from the cave to your right. You narrow your eyes to look inside, unsure of what you might see.

Nothing.

You step closer, ignoring your sibling's yelling as you walk into the cave. The empty cave, save for the water on the ground and the...icicles on the ceiling?

The ground starts to viciously shake, your arms stretching out to find something to balance on. One arm grabs onto the side of cave while the other block the top of your head to prevent the icicles from falling on you.

An earthquake, you think as you fear for you life and your family's. They should be safe, given that they're outside. You though? You're not entirely sure. After a few more seconds, the ground stops moving, the water stops splashing so aggressively. You release a breath you didn't know you were holding and turn, running back to your family to check on them.

The cold hits you immediately, your arms go back to wrapping across your body. You think you're hallucinating, dreaming. Those icicles must've hit your head leaving you unconscious. But why does it feel so real? The painful chill you're body is experiencing, the chattering of your teeth, the snow that falls from the sky, why is it all so real?

You take tentative steps forward, eyes scanning the frosty trees and ears hyper fixated on the crunch beneath your feet. Toes and fingers are the first to go in frostbite, so you bend down to put your shoes back on. You sink into the snow, but it's either this or chopping your feet off.

"Mom?! Dad?!" You yell. You strain to hear any response, but you're left with deafening silence. You sniff, eyes starting to water. You're scared, the overwhelming scene of loneliness quickly starting to get the best of you.

You shake your head aggressively, the heated curls on your head hitting you in the face. Crying won't fix anything, it'll only make things worse. With a few deep breaths, you manage to maintain your composure.

Okay first things first, you think, get warm. Most people would advise you to stay where you are when you're lost, but in this case, that's the last thing you should do. You look at where the sun is, determining that it's a little past the afternoon. People who live in the snow build their houses on the East, so maybe if you head in that direction you'll find something?

"Oh my god," you say aloud, finally accepting the predicament you're in.

"I'm fucked."

-

You were about to give up on your pursuit of finding warmth until you saw a large house, or building. It was far, but it was there. Your body was shivering, and you know your snot and tears were frozen on your face, but the mere sight of a home had you running.

Your wedges quickly came undone, leaving your barefooted to run in the burning snow. You didn't care though, and the view of the house-no mansion quickly came into view. It was bigger than you anticipated, but you could only cry of joy when you ran up the steps and banged on the door.

It didn't matter if you looked like a crazy woman, it didn't matter how disgusting your face was, what mattered was being thrown in a fire.

"Hello?!?!? Excuse me?!?!" Your voice was loud, demanding to be heard. Both your hands were banging harshly on the door, you would apologize for being so rude later.

Finally the door swung open, an older lady in white and black greening you.

"What in names heaven do you think you're- Oh my goodness!" She quickly took in your physical state. She grabbed you by the hand and yanked you inside, shutting the door.

"Grace?" Another voice called from deeper inside the house. "Who was it?"

The lady, who you now know was Grace, waved a dismissive hand. "Run me a hot bath! Quickly! Quickly!" Grace was practically pushing you inside, up the stairs while your feet struggled to keep up. You were shivering too much, tears clouding your vision that you could barely see where you were going. But you could feel the warm embrace of heat.

You were shoved into a room, clothes quickly being stripped off before you could complain. Grace along with other women lifted you and placed you in a bath. You yelped in pain, the heat of the water was too much. If they heard you, they ignored you. Rather, they dunked a bucket of water over your head, warming every part of your body.

After clearing your face, you finally took in the way the bathroom looked, if you could call it that. It was unbelievably big, a large window stood in front of you. Then you looked the women who were scrubbing you, varying from ages. Yet, it was clear the Grace was the one in charge, easily giving orders the other ladies listened to. They were all dressed the same, as if it was uniform.

"Do you guys...work here?" You ask.

Your voice broke their concentration, eyes narrowing at you. "Maids tend to work where they live, yes," Grace answers, as if it's the most obvious answer. Maids? You think, who has maids nowadays? Before you can ask another question, Grace speaks.

"Are you feeling better? Can you move?" Her eyes can your body from underneath the body, and now is it that you become aware that you're nude. You can't cover yourself though, the other women were busy cleaning your arms and scrubbing your head.

You nod deciding that this must be a frequent occurrence for them, "Yeah, it's just a little hard to move my fingers." She nods, turning to the door. "That's normal," she starts, "I'll find you something to wear. Girls..." her head turns to her workers, "Get her dry."

With multiple yes ma'am's they pull you out of the water, leaving you to bare to the window. A small shriek leaves your lips, you quickly tell them you can dry yourself. They instead giggle at your little outburst, gently pulling you out of the tub.

"Please don't worry yourself miss," one of them says. It's only then that you notice their accent. It had a slight lisp to it, like a gentle pirate who was sophisticated.

"You'll be fine with us. For now, we should get the hearth going. Need to warm yourself yes?" Another was grabbing the towel, wrapping you tightly. Before you could say something, there was loud clanging. Muffled, but loud enough. You peer outside the two-story window and see a cage. There were three people, men you think, poking at the cage with what seemed like a stick. Whatever was in the cage was not happy, thrashing around angrily.

"Please miss, pry you eyes away. It's unwise to look upon such a beastly thing," another girl pulls you away from the window, using smaller towels to dry your hands and feet.

You remain silent, allowing them to dry your body. You hear a couple of them whispering near the door.

"I hear she came with ill clothes, indecent for a young lady in this cold," one whispers. "She must not be from here. Perhaps she was in an accident and got lost," the other reasons.

Before you could say anything, the door swings open, almost hitting the two gossiping girls. Grace waltz in, a large dress in her hands. She sets it on the stool nearby and with a wave of her hand, dismisses a few of the girls.

"I believe this will fit rather nicely. These girls will do your hair and such," Grace announces.

"Actually," you start, "I'm just lost. I don't know where I am and-" Grace laughs, though you didn't say anything funny. "I understand your worries, but I believe you should concern yourself with other things. Do you know whose house you're in?" Her eyes glint with curiosity. I shake my head, "Like I said, I'm lost and I need to find my-"

"You are in the home of Lord Lukas," Grace interrupts again. You're starting to grow irritated, close to snapping at this lady. She helped you though, clothed and bathed you; you bite your tongue.

"He is the famous monster hunter, and you stumble in here wearing heavens knows what in the winter. You have stirred the pot in such a way, miss. Perhaps I pry too much, but are you...interested in the lord?"

You furrow your eyebrows. The ladies behind you are dead silent, waiting for your response. You take a deep breath, "I don't want to talk about this naked."

The ladies gasp, as if you had said a terrible thing. They quickly grab the dress from Grace and bottles from the bid dresser behind you. Without a word, grab at your towel, but you hold it tightly.

"Can I dress myself?!" You shout, losing your composure. The ladies look at one another then at Grace. For a moment, Grace eyes you suspiciously. She lets out a sigh and nods, "Leave her girls. We need to prepare for dinner."

-

You have decided that not only are you in a completely different area, but surrounded by old technology. No hair dryer, heated pipes for the bath, stained windows, the smell of old wood, it's not current trends. Perhaps this place prefers the older times, but the accent, the outfits...

No, you're getting distracted. You need to get home, and you should start by heading back from where you came from. Or is this just a very realistic dream? You would normally wake up the moment you recognized you were dreaming, but this time you stayed in this fictional world.

One thing was sure though, you were not putting that dress on. It was beautiful yes, but too many layers. It had a corset much too small for your body and was unnecessarily big. After some digging around, you found outfits that were similar of that to that maids. It would be much easier to walk in, and put on.

You dried your hair as much as you could before brushing it out with a long toothed comb. There was some make up on the dresser as well, you touched it curiously. It definitely was old, the style, the smell. You decided to not put any on, scared of the chemicals it may have.

When you opened the door, you were in another room. A bedroom. You gasped, if you thought the bathroom was huge, this was gigantic. A big, red, plush bed in the middle, a fireplace from where you were exiting was lit, a long window on the right, and an even bigger dresser on the left. It was straight from a fairy tail.

Now you understood why the dress was so big, so grand; Because this entire mansion was lavish. You were given that dress to fit the aesthetic. You walked around the room, unsure if it was even the one you were temporarily given.

You made your way to the window, your hand touching the cold glass. You looked down, seeing the cage they ladies had told you to not look at. You saw the...beast...huddled in a corner, conserving it's warmth. You pouted, feeling bad for this pure black creature. It was hard to make it out, but it looked like it was enveloping itself in wings.

"That's a big ass bird," you mumble.

Knocking at the door startles you, turning your head to see who was opening the door. You relaxed when you saw one of the ladies who was attending to you in bath.

"Miss, it is time for- What! Oh no dear, that is not what you should be wearing," she promptly shuts the door, speed walking to you."This is completely unacceptable. If the Lord saw you think this..." she trails off. She hurries to the closet you hadn't noticed, swinging its doors open.

"Yeah sorry," you apologize, "I didn't think I would feel comfortable in that dress so I put this on instead." She ignored you, rummaging for something that you can wear.

"You will be in the presence of the Lord of this house, miss," her tone is clipped, "I understand you are not from here, but he is someone of power. I assume even a place where you're from would have someone power?"

She doesn't bother to wait for you answer, instead pulling a golden color dress out. It's doesn't look puffy at all, instead like an easy slip on. It glitters in the light, you notice a slightly deep v-line. The maid gently places it on the bed.

"Put this on miss. I will be outside your door, please dress quickly," and with that she leaves.

You take one more glance outside the window and make your way to the bed, reaching for the dress. It really is pretty, and it's long enough to have leg room, but not enough to have you trip. You nod, satisfied with this dress.

You slip into it, feet first. It goes over you easily, and you reach behind to tie it together. It proved harder than you thought and you struggle horribly. You pace around the room trying to lace the string though its holes, facing the window as if the scenery will help.

You let out a loud, frustrated groan. The bird in the cage jolts, and your eyes widen. Did it hear you? You watch as it lifts its head up, looking around until it meets your eyes. You gasp, looking into its black, human-like eyes. You stumble backwards with a hand covering your mouth, what was that?

"Miss?" The maid reappears, probably from hearing your frustration.

You close your eyes, your head is playing tricks on you. You're in an unfamiliar place and your brain in panicking, unsure of how to take in its surroundings. Plus the bird was far away, you could be mistaking things.

"My dress," you choke out, "I can't do the back."

Wordlessly, she goes behind you, tying the the back of the dress in a criss-cross manner. Your heartbeat is wild, loud in your ears and throat. You're suddenly remained of how utterly lost and alone you are, no longer interested in playing pretend. You sniff, tears softly falling down your face.

The maid notices this, she gently pats your shoulder. She turns you around and wipes your years with her thumb, smiling softly at you. "I'm so sorry that you are lost miss. Lord Lukas is a very powerful man and I'm sure he can help you. Do not fret please."

You nod, grateful for her encouraging words. "I just really wanna go home."

"And you will," she promised, "But I'm sure you're famished, let's eat first."

-

Lord Lukas was younger than you anticipated, less than 10 years younger than you. His parents died, leaving him with a massive fortune and to carry the legacy of being a monster hunter. He loved talking about himself, you had only managed to tell him your name and how you got lost.

If you shut off your brain, it was easy to accept that you had somehow teleported to a different world. You didn't want to think about it too much, how there must be millions of different worlds and millions of portals to them. You were the unlucky soul that stumbled upon one, and you needed to go to the right one to get home. See? Wasn't too hard to understand if you didn't think too much about it.

You poked at your food, your appetite was nonexistent. It looked good though, cooked meat with boiled veggies and unique looking rice. At least you think it's rice. The man siting across from the table was still stuck on how you ended up here. Portals were thought the be a myth, yet here you are.

"So you're just looking for a family?" He asks, shoving a broccoli in his mouth. "Yes, my family," you stress. You briefly met his eyes, they were a light green. He smiled.

"And you said you were near the sea when this happened?" You nod. He hums, "I've always wanted to visit the sea. I've only seen pictures and I think it's quite beautiful." "Yeah it's nice," you agree, "The sand gets annoying though.

He laughs softly. He leans forward, eyes going down to your cleavage. You grimace. It doesn't matter what title a man has, he will always be a pig.

"You smell like lavender," he notes, "I love that smell." You laugh awkwardly, "Uh, yeah the girls had good soap."

"So," he says, eyes never leaving yours, "you're with your family when you stumble in a cave, appear here with no idea of how, and now you're at my place, lost. Looking for refuge?"

"Yup, pretty much," you nod. "But I dont need...refuge. I just need to go back home. I don't know what being a monster hunter means, but you must know about fantasy things like that. I don't have money to give but I went to school and-"

He starts laughing, hysterically actually. The words in your throat get caught, and you're replaying what you said in your head to see what was so funny.

"Unbelievable! You're a a great jester I give you that," he says, wiping a tear from his eye. "You don't need to lie, sweetheart. I don't know who put you up to this trick, but it's quite admirable." He stands and walks around the table so he's behind you. You stiffen, head turning so he never leaves your sight. "What are you taking about?" You ask.

"Many know that I am without wife. I've heard the complaints of how they worry about who will carry the monster hunter title, about who will inherit my fortunes. You are lost? No family? With no way back?" He laughs again, "It's a very intricate plan, and I'm almost impressed with how well they know what I fancy most in a woman."

He leans down in you ear, breath disgustingly hot, "I suppose you're hungry for something else. Yes?"

His hand appears on your shoulder, trailing down to your breasts before you shove him off. You stand from your seat, chair falling from how forceful your movement was.

"The fuck?! Don't fucking touch me!" You yell. You grab a stake knife from the table and hold it, aimed at him. "I don't know who you are and I don't give a fuck! I'm not going to play dress up anymore, you sick fuck."

Lukas raises his eyebrows, surprised by your outburst. He smooths a hand over his face and smiles again, "Did they also tell you that I enjoy the chase? I love it when they fight back."

His words send a chill though your body, you nearly gag. "You're sick. Stay the fuck away from me."

His smile widens more, "And I just adore your accent, I wonder how it will sound when you submit to me."

You run with the knife in hand, choosing to go out the back door rather than the front. The sun is setting, giving the snow a pretty pink glaze color. You would admire it if you weren't being pursued. Lukas is fast behind you, but if you manage to make it though the clutter of trees, you might have a chance.

No one is outside, no one was at the dinner. Did he send them away so he could have you alone? Did he plan this out?

You yelp when you're tackled into the snow, face first. The knife falls out of your hand and you're left defenseless. He yanks your hair so your head is up, he presses a knee into your lower back. "You're a lot faster than I anticipated, but no matter."

You trash in his hold, but he only digs his knee deeper into you. You cry out in pain, hands scratching at what you can manage.

"Gosh you are so full of energy!" He exclaims. "Keep this up, you will tire in no time."

He maneuvers you so you lay on your back, but this gives you more room to kick and hit. You do manage to get a few good punches in, but he grabs the top of your head and slams you into the ground. Your head rings from the impact, a groan leaving you.

"You...dick..." you strain out, spitting salvia in his face. He puts all his weight on your stomach, hands gripping your throat. He lifts one of his hands and backhands you, you head harshly turning to the right. Then you see the cage, it's no less than 20 feet from you. The bird is still huddled in its corner, but its eyes peer to you. The poor animal has been out in this snow for who knows how long and it's still alive. For some reason, it gives you strength. Despite the tears in your eyes, you see the glint of you knife. Lukas's hands violently tear at the top of your dress, trying to rip it.

For a moment, just for a moment, he loses his grip on your throat. You take this opportunity to headbutt him right on the nose, and you hear a satisfying crunch when you do. His hand cradles his broken nose, and you strike him with the heel of your palm while he was stunned. You manage to get half his weight off you and you reach for the knife.

He sees this and grips your hair again, but it's too late, you've already grabbed it. You turn and stab him in the neck, surprised by how how hard it is to sink in. You pull the knife out and stab again hard, blood spraying on your face and fingers. He cries out, hands grasping yours to pull away. His eyes meet yours and you see it, fear. Genuine fear that makes the hair on your neck stand. With a cry you took the knife out and stab a third time, this time digging so deep your fingers could feel the insides of his throat.

He gurgles, blood pooling from his mouth and neck as he opens his mouth to speak, but you drop his body on the ground before he gets the chance to. You sob wrecks through you, you hadn't notice the tears running down your face until now. You were wailing, weeping from your dire situation and the dying body next to you. In the movies, they had died so quick, almost gracefully. But this was messy, blood was all over your dress, hands, the knife, the snow. His hands were weakly trying to cover his wounds, to stop the blood from flowing out.

You needed to get out of here, it was only a matter of time before they came looking for Lukas. Or his body at least.

You stand on your shaky legs, wiping your tears and keeping a steady hold on the knife. 'This isn't real," you tell yourself. "You're fine. You're alive. You'll be okay."

You look up and see that you facing the cage, but the bird is no longer hunched over. Though the cage is much too small for it to stand, it crouches eyes trained on you. It's no bird, not with a human body like that. Its skin is pale, nearly grey with a head a black hair. It's nails are inhumanly long, its feet shaped like a birds. It's wings are cramped, tightly tucked beneath its back. You could still see it's dark feathers, and the tail that swishes unsettling. It could pass for human if you ignored its pitch black eyes. You knew for sure it was a male, it wore no clothes despite having a similar male anatomy.

It looks like a nightmare, but more human than the corpse behind you. Its eyes look at you then the lock, signaling you on what it wants. Despite everything you laugh. This monster had seen you fight for your life and all it asks if you to free it.

"I don't have the keys," you say, though you know it can't understand you. Its eyes flicker to the man you killed, then to the lock, then at you. You shiver, it can understand you. You look behind you and shudder, you had killed someone.

"Are you serious?"

It doesn't respond, instead shifting anxiously in its cage. Who knows how long it's been in there, in the cold. You let out a sign, rubbing your face. You know you're smearing blood all over yourself, but you don't care.

You turn to the body, reaching for keys. You keep your eyes closed, instead feeling around for the item. Finally, you feel a bundle of metal in the pockets of the dead man, pulling them out. It's a hoop of keys that jingle in your hands, and the beast behind you clatters in excitement.

You stand and head to the cage, grabbing the lock. There must be around 10 rings on this key holder, and you're not sure how long it will take to try them all. The first one is a no go, no even fitting in the hole. The second one fits halfway, and no matter how deep you tried to shove it in, it just wouldn't go in.

The human-like monster inside the cage paces, obviously anxious about being free. You were trying the third one when you could hear shouting from the house.

"Where is the Lord?" "Shouldn't he be done by now?" "Go look for him!"

The beast and you lock eyes. You don't know if you have the time to open his cage, and he knows it. But the way it's looking at you, so much hope and pleading, you feel a pang of guilt.

"I'll keep trying okay? But don't expect me to get captured for you okay?" You go back to the task at hand, the third one did not fit. Your fingers start to go numb from the cold, it takes a while for you to fit the 4th key in. Though it manages to slide in, it doesn't turn.

"Fuck," you whisper, struggling to grab the fifth key. Then you hear the door swing open, and 4 men tumble out. "Hey!" One of the shouts, and you whimper. The beast gets close to your face, eyes never leaving you. It's a silent plea, just try one more key. You should go, you should run, but you don't.

You shakily shove the fifth key in, ignoring how close the sound of running is getting. It turns, and grants you a soft click! "Holy shit, it's op-"

You yelp, hair being yanked back from the cage. The man who has you hostage is angry, eyes bulging from his sockets as he regards you. "You whore! You damned heathen!" You throws you harshly on the snow, your fingers numbly try to grasp anything, but it's so hard to move them.

"Captain. He's dead," one man says, next to the body of your assaulter. While a 2 men attempt to revive the body, the other two draw their weapons. "You fool! Do you know what you've done?!" "A stupid whore like you could have never killed a man. Who were you with? What did you plan? Where is your-" The captain is cut off quickly by a screech.

You hear the slash of flesh, blood spreading on you. The captain stands as he clutches his stomach, entrails exposed to you. Before the man beside him can react, he's grabbed and yanked into the sky. Your eyes follow up, watching as the winged beast takes him high into the clouds before he dropped him. His body lands 10 feet away from you, a nasty sound emits as his body snaps.

You scream, covering your face and head to shield your eyes. You put yourself face down into the snow, trying to ignore the sound of men screaming and flesh tearing. Your body is shaking from fear rather than cold. You don't know what type of monster you let free from its cage, but it's certainly out for revenge.

Finally it stops, but you can't stop sobbing. You didn't want to kill anyone, you didn't want anyone else to die. You just wanted to go home. You wish you were taking those stupid fucking pictures instead of enduring this fantasy nightmare.

The sound of feet crunching gets your attention and it stops right in front of you. You slowly lift your head up, quieting your sobs as you recognize the bird-like feet in front of you. Your head keeps going up, finally seeing the beast stand bare in front of you. You sniff and stand, surprised by how tall it is. It's taller than any human man, that's for sure. You barely reach its torso, needing to look up to see its face.

It leans down, and you gasp when a snake like tongue darts out of its mouth. It tastes your face, touching he tears and blood that stain it. It puts its tongue away and swaps it for another, a much bigger and thicker one. You close your eyes as it licks your cheeks, collecting the saltiness. You let out soft whimpers while it cleans you, hand softly gripping your chin so it can tilt your face in his direction. When he's satisfied, he grabs your hands. He brings them to his face and he licks your fingers, drinking the dried blood on them. It purrs at the taste, greedily taking it all.

Once he's done you open your eyes, gently pulling away from him. Its wings spread out from him, larger than any bird you've ever seen. Each wing is longer than his height, covered in dark feathers. You take a step back, finally looking at him at his full height. He still looks like a nightmare yes, but so beautifully scary.

"I need to get home," is all you say. You know it can understand you, perhaps it was trained by humans. "I don't know where I am or when I am? Oh god what am I even saying." You bury your face in your hands. You're going to cry again.

A gentle hand finds your shoulder, another gently pats your head. "You will be okay, human." You gasp at its voice. It's so deep and slightly scratchy, as if he hasn't spoken in a long time. You look up at it, mouth agape. "You can speak?" You muster.

It's face does not change, only giving you a simple nod. "You will be fine, but first we must leave. You have killed a Lord, and I his guards. You will be safe, but not here. Come."

It reaches its clawed hand at you, waiting for you to take it. You look at the hand then at the house. Should you trust this creature and leave with it? Or go back the way you came in a place you're completely unfamiliar with? A rock and a hard place.

You look at it in the eyes, searching for any indication of what it wants, but it just stares back. You notice you can see some white of its eyes, his pupils must expand exponentially when he's full of adrenaline.

You let out a shaky breath and grab his hand, "Guess we should go then."

a/n: this is the first chapter! this story is still in the works but I think im on the last chapter! ill post the second chapter tmr or something

[the-froschamethyst4]

God of War and Goddess of Peace

𖤐Pairing: God! Alex x Goddess! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐AN: I'm writing this base off my own story, I don't have time to search up God and Goddess' stories so I'm creating my own story

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, ancient Greece, P in V, badly translated Greek, teasing, kissing/making out, eating out, hair pulling, some praising, mention of nudity,

𖤐Summary: The God of War, may be hard, dark, broody, and heartless, he grew a soft spot for the Goddess of Peace

————

————

Alex, the God of war sat against a large oak tree, sharpening a long stick into a spare, he looks at the small river and watched fish jump out of the water and landing back in the water.

He gets up and stood at the edge of the river but moved in, standing still and moving around only when a fish got close. A bass was close and he stabs the wooden spare in the fish, he pulls the fish out, still wiggling on the stick, he laughs before walking back onto land.

Putting the fish aside, Alex started to make a fire as the fish slowly dies.

"I hate when you do that," Alex looks at the tree that he was leaning against as saw the Goddess of Peace looking down at him.

"I have to survive," he says as she jumps off the tree branch. Her hands go to his shoulders and running her hands up his neck and then holding his face.

"I know, η καρδιά μου (my heart)..." she smiles at him.

These two are polar opposites but Alex the God of War starting over 50 different wars, has a soft spot for Y/n the Goddess of Peace.

"Must you look at me with those eyes?"

"What eyes?" She teases him, moving her hands from his cheeks down to his toned chest.

"You know," his hands were now moving from her hips, he starts moving downwards on his knees, his hands guiding over her silk dress.

"Alex?" He lifts the bottom of dress and starts licking between her wet folds. She moans as she then is lifted by her thighs and her back hit against the oak tree. His strong arms holding her up. Her thighs wanted to close around his head.

She moans gripping his hair, earning some groans from him. Alex then moved her from the tree to the ground, he starts to remove her silk dress as he was removing his own toga.

"Fuck," he says as he starts putting his left arm over her shoulder, he bends down and starts kissing her neck, she lets out a soft moan, her arms were around his neck and softly moaning.

Her eyes look at the beautiful flowers but then her focus was back on Alex pleasuring her. Her head went back and his hand held the back of her head to not hurt herself.

"You're doing so good," he says, kissing her neck and then kissing her lips. She was whining and moaning as Alex was sloppily thrusting into her.

"AH!" Y/n moans loudly as she felt him hit her spot.

Alex and Y/n try to have sex as much as they could together, the Gods don't like it when them two get together, they always come to this spot and have their alone time, none of the Gods know about this spot.

When in front of the Gods they both act like they are strangers but in reality they might've just fucked before showing to see the Gods and Goddess'.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Alex moans as Y/n moans, he picks up the pace and the sound of sloppy sounds fill both of their ears and then Alex did one more hard thrust and watched as Y/n's head went back and her fingernails digging into his hard and buff shoulders.

Alex felt himself come inside of her, she moans and felt come leak from her lower half. Alex sat on his knees and looks down at Y/n, her body was sweaty and her hair had some sticks and flowers in her hair.

"Come on, αγάπη μου (my love)." He helps her up and took her to the river. She dips in and lets the cold water hit her skin, she lets out a satisfied moan. Alex let her clean up as he fixed them lunch.

Y/n swims in the river, going under water and Alex watched her from shore as he roasts the bass. She pops her head from waters surface and he could only see her eyes and top of her head.

He leans back and smirks as she slowly starts to move out of the water and walk towards Alex. He smiles and his hands went to her waist as she slowly sits on his lap.

"You're so fucking υπέροχος (gorgeous)," he tells her. He kisses her neck, her hands in his hair again. She moans a few times as his hands roamed all over her body.

Her eyes explored the woods as Alex just kissed her, sucking on her soft skin.

"The fish is done," he says as she turns and looks at the fish. "I know how you like your side, not too burnt like how I like it," he smiles at Y/n.

"Thank you," she says, kissing his lips.

-----------

As they were done eating, Alex and Y/n laid on the grass. He holds her against his chest as the sun was going down, his arms around her shoulders as he was lazily thrusting into her. She would mewl every now and then.

"I'm trying to be easy," he says.

"I-It's okay," she stutters. Alex then sits up, bring her leg to his shoulder and the other resting her hip (her side of her ass cheek). His thrusts were sloppy and lazy but he was pleasuring Y/n not himself, not right now anyways.

He watches as she covers her mouth with the back of her hand, moaning and then her hand grips his wrist that rested on her hips.

"Fuck, αγάπη μου (my love)." He groans out.

"Alex," she moans, her hand going to his lower stomach as he picks up the pace. He could tell she was close to coming soon. He picks up the pace once again and then he watched as white liquid spilled out of her. Y/n's body goes a bit limp and Alex pulls out watching her catch her breath.

She brings her hand to the back of his neck pulling him down and kissing his lips.

-----------

Darkest filled the sky and Alex and Y/n laid on the ground together, naked, the silk of their clothes drape over them as a blanket. Y/n's hand went to his chest as she was trying to sleep, Alex's hands rub her side as he looked at the sky, looking at the stars.

"O'Ryan, is out," Alex says, pointing to the sky. Y/n opened her eyes and saw the star sign.

"Lovely as ever," she says.

"More lovely than me?" He asks.

"Never," she snuggles into his side.

------------

Y/n walks around Mount Olympus with Persephone, they talk, mainly about Persephone's life with Hades in the underworld, unpopular opinion is that Persephone's life has never been better since Hades.

Y/n has confessed to Persephone that her and Alex have sex without the Gods knowing and Persephone was very good at keeping secrets and have never told anyone not even her Husband.

"Did you two do it again?" Persephone asked, she placed her hands on Y/n's shoulders.

"Yeah," she acted shy around Persephone.

"Was it good?" She asked.

"As always," Y/n said.

"Did you two do it in the woods again?"

"It's the only place we can do it," she says. Persephone opened the door to the regal palace of Mount Olympus. Y/n's eyes were met with Alex's.

He stood next to Hades in his black silks as Hades was matching him. Alex looks at Y/n and smirks, Hades walks to his wife and pulled her away from Y/n.

Y/n goes to Alex's.

"Hi."

"Hello," he says, placing his hand on her waist.

"Alex," she steps back from him. He forgot, she just stood next to him, as the Gods were talking.

"Did you have fun?" He asked her, leaning down to her ear. She just nods. "You can talk, αγάπη μου (my love)."

"I know..." she says.

"Did you tell Persephone?" He asked.

"Yeah...we're friends," she tells him.

"And she won't say anything?"

"Nothing," Y/n says.

-------------

Alex pulls Y/n away from the Gods, they had started a passionate make out session his hands went up her dress, squeezing her thighs and earning some moans from her.

"You are so fucking," he cuts his words off by kissing her some more, words couldn't describe Y/n and how gorgeous she was. Who knew the God of War could fall for someone like Y/n.

Alex and Y/n could hear the Gods asking for where they were. Y/n put her hands on his chest pushing him away and looking at him.

"We should get back there...Zeus wants a meeting."

"Oh I know...and I'm annoyed with him...why not do this for a bit longer?" He teased, getting closer to him and kissing her lips and touch her body, feeling her up and wanted to fuck her all over again.

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What I imagine Alex and Y/n wearing

[kitsuga]

Windborne Dance. {Venti x Reader}

Description: 

A fic in which Venti and reader dance away their feelings; takes place during Windblume festival. 

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Tags: mostly fluff, slight angst but just in like. one little part i promise, drinking (it is venti after all), takes place during a windblume festival, reader is NOT mc/lumine/aether!, not beta'd, not edited, gender neutral reader, genshin impact x reader, venti x reader, genshin impact, venti

Word Count: 1,005

A/N: Written on: May 14, 2021 

I didn’t mean for the slight angst I really didn’t but it came to me as I wrote it at like 2 am and was like ‘hm well damn, toss it IN’ so, my bad, sorry sorry (only slightly) 

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

As was natural in Mondstadt, the breeze was gentle and constant, bringing fresh air and freedom along with it. 

With the festivities in full bloom, the flowers joined in as well; petals danced about in the air, spinning and lunging in the most graceful of ways. The entire city was decorated from top to bottom with flowers, pinwheels, and colourful banners while the sounds of the bards' songs and the citizen’s laughter echoed off the building-- all paying homage to the Windblume Festival for a certain archon—the one who happened to be sitting across from (Y/n) at an outside table to one of the taverns. 

“Another glass!” 

“You’ve already had 9, Venti.” 

“Make it 10!” 

His giggle was as airy as the wind he controlled, throwing his arms into the air to stretch against the back of his chair. Aqua green eyes scanned the crowd nearby, a smile plastered to his face. (Y/n) sat back with their arms crossed to their chest, their eyes closed and a small smile on their lips. The two of them enjoyed one another's company in the opposite of silence.  

There was no such thing as quiet in Mondstadt, especially during a festival. As the two of them sat close to the center of town, the music was the loudest among sounds, overpowering the normal hustle and bustle of the locals and those running around enjoying their time. (Y/n) let the music wash over them; an upbeat melody with an undertone of something longing—they felt like it may have been written just for them. They heard Venti call out to them, only minorly interrupting their peace to ask if they’d like another drink as well. They could barely muster enough energy to give him a dismissive wave; they heard him mutter something along the lines of it being their loss.  

Unbeknownst to them, his eyes left the crowd and made their way to their form. They looked so relaxed, serene; the perfect picture of what Venti wanted to provide the world, and what he wanted in the world. He never expected to feel this way in general let alone with one of the most beautiful people he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting; he expected to simply just admire them, enjoy the fact that their soul was so... genuine. However, freedom is as freedom does, and he found himself by their side in no time, easily finding himself unexplainably smitten. 

Venti stood up; his half-finished drink already long forgotten as he made his way closer to them, standing in front of them with a large smile on his face, simply waiting for them to notice—he knew it wouldn’t be long. 

“You’re blocking the light,” they whined, begrudgingly opening one eye to peek at him, “I was enjoying that. Almost took a nap.” 

“You’re like a cat.”  

“Are you gonna start sneezing?” 

“No.” He scrunched his nose, sniffed a little, and lied. “Come on,” Venti held out one of his hands, the smile now returning to his face, “dance with me!” 

“Here?” He had their full attention now as they sat up and looked at him, “In front of all these people?” 

“No one’s paying attention! They’re all dancing with their loved ones too; it’ll be fine!” 

Grabbing onto their wrist, he effortlessly pulled them to their feet, facing them and swiftly moving backwards towards the dancing crowd and upbeat music. His giggle was hardly heard above the sound surrounding them. 

“Loved ones?” Their comment fell on deaf ears. 

Venti was simply enjoying his time; bouncing about, holding (Y/n)’s hands and swinging them around, spinning them in circles only to playfully pull them close and dip them dramatically to get a reaction from them—he only responded in a loud laugh. After a bit of time, (Y/n) loosened up, no longer caring about the people who surrounded them and focused only on the aqua green eyes and bubbly smile in front of them. 

The sun started to dip below the rooftops, eventually making its way past the horizon as well. Normally, time would never really matter to Venti, but with (Y/n) so close to him-- aware of how warm they were within his arms and how tired and sluggish their movements had become—the reality of his situation kicked in. His arms won’t be warm forever. 

Eventually, he’ll lose it all; the sound of their laugh, the shine of their smile, the way they made his heart sing. He lost something special once—though it was a different love—and knowing it was going to happen again was something he always knew would happen, but never made the thought any easier. He simply wanted to stay just like this; his arms around them as they couldn’t help but fall asleep with their head on his shoulder, softly swaying to the music that had carried as gently as the breeze, the odd feeling of his heart getting ready to leap out of his throat. The wind will always die down, but it still had strength behind it; his sign to let go of worries and live in the moment. 

A soft smile and an equally soft kiss to the side of their head, he whispered to the wind he called a friend. 

“I wish we could stay like this forever; you know?” uncharacteristically somber for him, though his tone quickly changed, “But we can’t. So, let me tell you today that I love you.”  

Silence fell upon the two of them again; (Y/n) tightened their grip on his shirt while Venti’s eyes grew wide, not expecting them to have heard him. They moved closer, nuzzling their face against his shoulder to hide their embarrassment, and he let out another giggle that tore through his body. In an attempt to lighten the mood, Venti pulled away, moving his hold to their wrists and swung their arms back and forth, absolutely beaming at them before uttering the words that gained an exasperated sigh and laugh from (Y/n). 

“Time for another drink!” 

[distortionbobble]

Royal Flowers Chapter 5

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pairing: anakin skywalker x fem!reader

series summary: A long, long, time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, a certain Jedi by the name of Anakin Skywalker meets you, the current Queen of Naboo and cousin of Padme Amidala, and is tasked with protecting you by pretending to marry you. As a spy, you’ve infiltrated the Separatist ranks and are close to finding out the mastermind behind all of it. The fate of the galaxy is in your hands.

warnings: minors dni! ageless blogs dni! none this chapter but the series will have eventual smut, canon-level violence and just general warnings.

a/n: this chapter is a leettle short (2k words) but i hope you guys still enjoy ! just a reminder that next week’s chapter will be up, as usual, on friday, and then i’ll take a break until about sept 8th. would appreciate your comments and reblogs, because that’s what really motivates me to keep writing . anyways thanks for reading! 

You’re getting stronger. It’s been a few months since you started training, and Anakin can see it in the way you carry yourself— self assured, unafraid to take up space. When the two of you spar, you’re faster— not to his level, of course, but you’re a hard worker and quick to pick up the patterns needed for sparring. You parry and deflect most of his blows— not perfect, which is why he’s still here, but you’re getting good at it. He’s also been working on strength training with you, using the Force to add resistance and the feeling of weight as you quickly build up muscle. Reyna hasn’t entered without knocking since that first day, having forcefully learned her lesson. It gives you both enough time to situate yourselves without suspicion— the flushed skin and sweat gives indication to other activities. Anakin’s handsomeness certainly doesn’t hurt the cause, either. Not that you think that he’s handsome, but you could certainly see why others would think he’s handsome. A swoon worthy smile, that strong-set jaw and the dimple in his chin that you sometimes want to press your thumb to. 

But really, he’s not that handsome to you. 

The two of you currently stand on the edges of the bed, arms locked in position as you anticipate his moves. 

“Steady,” he murmurs, looking you straight in the eyes. It’s distracting, the way he looks at you, and you watch his tongue trace the top of his bottom lip before your eyes flick back to his. The world outside of the two of you is quiet and still, and you can hear your heart beating in your ears as you plan your moves. Your eyes dart over Anakin, assessing each part of him— his stance shows nothing, but you wait for him to give. The second he shifts his balance you move quickly, kicking your foot out to throw him onto the bed. You quickly straddle him, pinning him down.

“I win,” you laugh, patting Anakin’s shoulder as you get off of him. 

“Just ‘cos I let you,” he fires back. He sits up and the two of you breathe heavy in exhaustion— you’d been practicing combat for about forty minutes, since well before sunrise. You realize just now how tired you are but you know you can’t lay down— if you lay down, you won’t come back up for at least another two hours. You find yourself leaning towards Anakin’s shoulder, pressing your cheekbone into it sleepily.

“Hope this is okay,” you yawn, shutting your eyes as you try to rest uncomfortably on Anakin’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything in response, allowing you your peace as he stays uncomfortably still. Then he calls your name softly, like he’s afraid to wake you up. 

“Can’t you just rest a little extra for one day?” He asks you as you straighten up, moving away from him as you head to freshen up. You smile at him, knowing he’s just looking out for your best interests, but the idea appeals to you. You’d like nothing better than to just stay in bed for a little longer. It almost scares you now that the idea of rest and peace is tied with Anakin, but it only makes sense. He may maintain a respectful distance when sleeping but he’s still there, every night. Sometimes, the two of you will talk—you’ll ask him whether he’d prefer to be a Bantha or a Shaak, if he’d rather live in Dagobah for the rest of his life or die (he said he’d rather die). He’ll tell you about the little he remembers from before the Order, the things Shmi used to say to him when he was sad, especially when work overwhelmed you. 

Being around him constantly has speedtracked your friendship. Being around him is the most natural thing in the world now— months of eating together, doing paperwork together, sharing a room together has made you appreciate the man that Anakin Skywalker is. You appreciate his humor and sharp wit when you’re complaining about the latest diplomatic failure, and you appreciate his dedication when he’s helping you on a project that you’re getting no help for. So far, he’s successfully helped you plan several water projects, allowing the residents of Naboo to access fresh water easily. He’s also used his contacts with Jar-Jar to help you understand the customs of the Gungans, allowing you to strike up a treaty with them where you’d come to their defense and they to yours when the need arises. Honestly, even from a purely political standpoint, you couldn’t have done this past few months without him.

A knock on the door stops you before you can get undressed for the shower. You peek your head out of the bathroom, making eye contact with an equally confused Anakin, who quickly slides under the bed covers to feign sleep. Reyna pops her head in, suspicious eyes assessing the room before she looks at you. 

“You’re being summoned,” She whispers. Fear threatens to show but you hide it, schooling your face into total neutrality before you nod and smile, crossing over to Anakin’s supposedly sleeping body to press a lover’s kiss to his hair. For strength or for show, you don't know which. And then you leave, putting up your armor for the meeting with Darth Sidious. 

~~~

“Your work has thus been sufficient. The approval of the modified skycraft will allow for future plans. And the supplied documentation of current trade agreements allows us to truly use Naboo,” the hooded figure’s garbled speech says. The hologram stares deep into your soul, and you hope that you can hide your secrets well enough. You nod, careful in your displayed response. Too much and you’ll raise suspicion— nobody likes a sycophant. Not enough, and they’ll wonder why you don’t care. You’ll be assassinated before you can blink. Neutrality, with a hint of graciousness. 

“Thank you, Darth Sidious.” 

“In a week’s time, there will be a massive battle between the Separatists and the Naboo Civilian Force. You will allow your people to be massacred,” He says calmly, as if he’s not discussing the murder of your people. Your outrage is hard to swallow, but you nod, breathing slowly from your nose to try and calm yourself. 

“Will the people not question why I did not request for the Republic’s assistance?” You ask, clenching your fists as you try to dam your nervous fidgeting.  Don’t show weakness. Don’t show weakness.

You can see his smile from under the cloak, sinister and haunting and it makes your stomach turn. 

“Unfortunately, the Republic will be otherwise occupied. Oh, it’s such a shame how busy our forces get, isn’t it?” He says before the transmission cuts. 

You’re disturbed, but there’s one little thing, one little slip that you’ve latched on to. 

Darth Sidious said our.

~~~

“It could be nothing,” you muse, catching the inside of your lip between your teeth as you fret. “Or it could be the key to his identity.” 

“Stop,” Anakin interrupts you, an edge to his voice present. “You mean to tell me that there’s going to be a massacre, with civilians involved, and you’re going to do nothing about it?” 

“Anakin, it’s not that black and white,” You sigh, frustrated. 

“No, no, it is that simple. Because you’re going to plan out exactly where to position your people so they can be killed easier. All those good people, dying, and all of it was preventable,” He says in disbelief. 

“Oh, and what would you have me do?” You retort in frustration. “I should, what, directly disobey Darth Sideous, lose his trust, jeopardize the whole mission, and end up getting both of us killed?” You bite out. He’s not understanding. You don’t want to allow it to happen. In fact, it feels like a knife to the gut— the knowledge that you, as a leader, are failing your people in the most essential way. You’re going to let them be slaughtered and you know it’s wrong. You’re failing, but if you do anything to change it, to prevent their deaths, you’ll fail at your mission for the past eight years. Your greatest loyalty, at the end of the day, isn’t to your people, but the greater good of the galaxy. 

“Well what’s the point of you being in this position then? It’s not like you’re doing anything. You’re not any closer to finding out who Darth Sidious really is. How do I know that you’re not really a Separatist, who just pulled me along as a cover to get away with all of it!” His accusation makes you reel back in shock. 

“Come on, Anakin, that doesn’t even make sense!” You exclaim. This whole thing is so unfair, you want to scream.  “You need to trust me. Without you, I’ve got nothing.” 

“If Padme was here, she would have done the right thing,” He mutters, disgusted, and leaves for the bathroom. The comparison to Padme stings a little, and you can’t help the slight burst of resentment towards Padme. She always got the choice to do the right thing. You didn’t. You didn’t ask to be a spy— it was a responsibility thrust upon you, one that you couldn’t simply reject. It’s your burden to bear, but you don’t need Anakin adding to that burden. For a brief moment, you wonder if it would have been better to get Obi-Wan instead. Yes, he would’ve been older, and more known, and there’s not a chance you would’ve gotten through with the plan, but you wish you had his careful, practiced demeanor to guide you through instead of Anakin’s brash reaction.  

You sit with your head in your hands for a minute before you muster up the strength to leave the room, guilt and shame heavy on your shoulders. 

“You look upset, princess. Lover’s spat?” Reyna’s voice suffocates you as you open the door, and you whip around to see her leaning against the palace walls. “Not now, Reyna. I don’t have the energy,” you grumble, just wanting to get as far as possible from her. Unfortunately, she steps closer to you, placing her palm on your spine as she walks alongside you. 

“I never wanted you to take this position,” she sighs. Her fingertips are digging into your flesh, clawing around your spine and you want to scream as panic swells within you. “Didn’t think you were serious about it. After all,” she says, sliding her hand away from your spine, “your lovely cousin hasn’t exactly made her love for us known, has she?” Reyna laughs. 

“Reyna, don’t hold the sins of my cousin against me. She doesn’t represent me, we’ve been over this,” you growl, stepping away from her. The action is futile, for she walks you into the wall of the corridor, staring into your eyes as she presses your shoulder to the wall. 

“You don’t get to choose your blood. But you do get to choose your lovers. And it’s mighty interesting that your husband,” Reyna spits out, “happens to have eyes for just her whenever she’s around. There’s something off about you, and I’ll find out what it is. And when I do?” She smiles, tracing your jaw with the back of her hand, knuckles caressing your skin. “Don’t forget how easy it is to cover up a death. Could even frame your darling husband.” 

Before you can get a word in otherwise she’s gone, walking briskly away from you as you stand stunned against the wall. You don’t know why Reyna suspects your relationship with Anakin despite all the time you spend together and the times she’s caught you looking like you’ve just finished a rather steamy session with Anakin. The optics of it are perfect, but you suppose Reyna never trusted you. 

You’ve reached an impasse. There’s no way around it; you can’t risk counteracting the Sith’s plan lest you and Anakin wind up dead. But the ethical dilemma of it weighs on your shoulders, and the thought of alienating Anakin terrifies you. 

Because you’re not sure you’ll ever get him back. 

[icyg4l]

PAC: How to Improve Your Relationship With Your Mother Figure

Hello beautiful people. Today is Mother’s Day and I want to wish all of the mothers out there a Happy Mother’s Day. Whether your mother is alive, dead or far away, I want to dedicate this reading to those who wish to have better relationships with their mothers. You don’t have to have a strained relationship with your mother to relate to this topic. You could simply just want to keep the bond that you have already. And lastly, I want to dedicate this Mother’s Day to the mothers in Haiti, Congo, Palestine, Sudan, Tigray and unfortunately many more. If you have any crowdfunding links that need to be boosted/donated to regarding mothers/families in these countries, please do not hesitate to direct me to them. Without further ado, please select the photo that resonates with you.

Top Left-to-Bottom Right: (Pile 1-6)

Pile One: I feel like this pile has a close relationship with their mother overall. You seem to be at peace with where you are with her, but things could get even better. I feel like something that could help you and your mother get along even more is helping her around the house. She likes for the floors to be swept and mopped, towels to be folded, dishes to be washed. Your mother may be a neat freak but it’s nothing that can’t be taken care of. I also feel like buying your mother things that she would use on a daily basis could be something that improves your relationship. For example, if your mother really likes makeup, get her a lip gloss set. If she likes flowers, buy her a vase and some flowers so that she can smell the roses. It’s the thought that counts. And lastly, I feel like making your mom look good is going to improve your relationship. Not only does being a good representation of her name make her look good, but actually adding onto her beauty will strengthen your relationship. If you’re into makeup, do your mom’s makeup. If you’re into hair, do her hair. If she wants a new pair of shoes, get her that pair of shoes. This is only if you’re able to though. Don’t break the bank trying to please your mama. 

If your mother is not here on this Earth, then please go all out with her grave. She wants you to decorate her grave/headstone with flowers. Clean the headstone. Wear her necklaces, bracelets and adornments. She wants you to talk about her highly. She wants you to not forget where you came from. You are wise and positive, so please continue to do what you do. Just because she is gone does not mean anything should change. She wants you to listen to your gut. If you have a little sibling, please don’t let them do anything stupid even though they can be prideful. I feel like she’s very big on morals and discipline so don’t think she isn’t clocking you from the afterlife because she is. Lastly, please speak of yourself highly. You have half of her genes and she does not appreciate it when you disrespect the physical features that you two share. Have some respect for those who have come before you. 

Cards Used: Queen of Cups, Justice, The Star, 6 of Wands, The Magician, Ace of Discs.

extras: joanne the scammer. 2016 era of youtube. mother-daughter days. only child. donuts.

Pile Two: I feel like you all have a tumultuous relationship with your mother. It feels like you’re a rebel and you do not like to follow the rules. You and your mother could never see eye-to-eye once you turned a certain age. Perhaps, it was around age 12? I feel like you and your mother need to consider counseling. It would help a lot to have a mediator with the two of you. This energy is like an episode of Maury or Steve Wilkos. I think that you may be LGBTQ+ as well. Your mother may not completely accept this part of you. Now usually, I am against the whole “They’re from a different time stance” but your mom feels out of reach to you. I am literally seeing two people on opposite sides of a grassy land. One person is reaching for the other but the other person is minding their business. She wants to understand you but her bossiness can get in the way. I say to just be patient with her. I feel like one thing that you can do is invite her to a place that you frequent often for fun just so she can get a taste of what you do everyday. I am channeling this movie called ‘The Aggressives’. One of the mascs’ mother was so convinced that she would end up with a man but that obviously wasn’t the case. By the end, she just ended up accepting her daughter for who she is. You two are definitely on opposite sides of the spectrum. I feel like another thing that you could do is play video games with her, which is weird? This can help build teamwork amongst you two, thus forming a better bond in the end. 

If your mother is deceased, I feel like you should be taking more risks. Stop giving a fuck about the rules and just live your life. There is nothing wrong with changing up your routine. Your mother could have been a rebel or even someone who led a revolution. Your mother wants you to walk away from what you once knew. Deep inside, you are someone who is capable of making great changes just as she did. I feel like your mother just wants you to embrace the inner youth inside of you. You’re too rigid. It’s affecting the way that you live. You have too much couth. It’s okay to play and let loose a little bit. She will still love you just the same as she did when she was alive if you change. Overall, embrace change babe! Dye your hair a different color. Take a spontaneous trip. Go to that concert. Please just do something! Get out of freeze mode!

Cards Used: The Fool, 6 of Swords, The Hermit (RX), 5 of Swords, Queen of Swords, 7 of Discs, Wheel of Fortune, The Hierophant (RX).

extras:  minor headaches. igor (2019). odd future fan. beast. the bear (2022). absent father.

Pile Three: I feel like you have this certain image of your mother in your head. You think that she is perfect but she is not, my dear. There are certain things that she has been through/experienced that she hasn’t even told you about. You do not know her the way you think you do. She has stories for days. She is not an angel. I feel like you need to get to know your mother. She is an interesting character. Ask her about her life story. Ask her about the experiences that have shaped her into the woman that she is today. You need to take her off of the pedestal that you have put her on. Take a step into reality, boo. I think that doing stuff like going out by the water or going fishing will help you guys bond to understand each other better. Yes, she used to change your diapers but if someone walked up to you and asked what your mother figure’s favorite color was, would you be able to answer it? It’s time to change that. I feel like traveling with your mother, whether it’s a road trip or by plane will help as well. I am channeling the movie Tammy (2014) with Melissa McCarthy. I recommend you watch this movie. Don’t underestimate your mother anymore!

If your mother is deceased, I feel like she wants you to know that she looks back on memories between the two of you fondly. I think she may have passed when you were too young to remember or it was before you hit puberty. You should ask the people who knew her best about what she was like, how she felt about motherhood, how she felt about you, etc. She does not regret anything in her lifetime. That says a lot about how she lived her life. If you have access to these, find any diaries, photos, old clothes, etc and put them in a place where no one can find them. If you find some old clothes, wear them and don’t let anyone else do that. Your mother wants you to be on the straight and narrow path though. Even though you may not know her like the back of your hand, she’s been watching you grow into the person that you are today from a place that you cannot see. But she will not judge if you stray away from this path, she understands what it’s like to be young and dumb. Overall, your mother just wants what is best for you.

Cards Used: 6 of Swords, Temperance, 3 of Wands, 7 of Swords (RX), King of Cups.

extras: beaver. morehouse college. air out your grievances. gummy bear song. sepia filter.

Pile Four: Stop hanging out with your significant other so much! You need to learn how to balance between familial obligations and romantic obligations. I feel like this is really the only thing that is getting in between you and your mother’s relationship. I feel like this pile listens to Jhene Aiko a lot. I am channeling Never Call Me. I think your mom would show up to your s/o’s house unannounced with a bunch of people behind her if you don’t keep in contact with her regularly. She does not play about you at all. It’s not really an overbearing thing. I think she just doesn’t want you to go down the path that she went down with your father. So speak up or face the consequences, love. I also think that you should hear her out when it comes to certain advice especially if it has something to do with a car. Maybe you let your s/o borrow your car too much or you let your car battery almost die or something? In this case, mother knows best. She’s not a chip on your shoulder. Just listen!

If your mother is deceased, I feel like she may have died around the same time as your father figure. She also could have died at the same time as your father figure. Your father could have been the reason she died. She wants you to be independent. Learn how to change your own tires. Take up some gym classes/self-defense classes. Don’t be willfully clueless. She also wants you to not be anyone’s ride or die. This may be the reason why she passed away. I feel like you’ve heard countless versions of how your mother chose to live her life, it isn’t completely true. Don’t believe the hype. One day, you will come across the full story. Definitely be single until you are ready to marry. Your mother could have been rushed to marry. She does not want to see you get taken advantage of like she was. Don’t hesitate to dedicate an altar to her. She wants to talk to you. She may have even popped up in your dreams before. 

Cards Used: 6 of Discs (RX), Ace of Swords, 2 of Wands, The High Priestess, The Devil, Two of Cups, Queen of Wands.

extras: gang culture. setup. grooming. pirates. shoddy apartment. purple bandana.

Pile Five: Have you ever considered getting plastic surgery so that you would look different from your mother? I am specifically getting an eyelift, nose job, butt implants, etc. I am channeling the energy of Blac Chyna and Tokyo Toni. I think that you and your mom have a toxic relationship. One day you’re good. The next day you’re fighting to be heard by her. You two could have physically fought before. What I am hearing is “Everyone has a story”. I feel like your guides want you to take into consideration her backstory. Get a little psychological here. Why does she act the way that she acts? Was she abandoned as a child? How does this play into how she treats you now? I am seeing a therapist writing in their notebook as we speak. I feel like she operates out of a lack mindset and you have outgrown that. I think that there was some type of falling out between her and your father figure. Maybe she was the side chick? Maybe she was taken advantage of at a young age? Maybe it was both. Honestly, this pile is very different from the others. You are being asked to pour into yourself. You need to put your foot down and let her know that you will be choosing the higher road. She will respect you more if you do that. I also think that you just simply need to start taking more time for yourself. You do not exist to be your mother’s punching bag. You are a human being. This pile is very different. You need to protect your peace babe.

If your mother is deceased, I feel like you guys could have argued before she died. I think that she was warning you about a particular behavior. Maybe she was telling you not to follow in your father’s footsteps and you chose not to listen. Maybe you snuck off somewhere you weren’t supposed to? Your mother did not want to control you. She just had some feelings about the choices you were making. But you make the bed that you lay in so there’s nothing that she could have done about it. I feel like you need to forgive yourself. Free yourself of the burden of your mother’s death. You cannot control fate. You need to learn how to accept certain circumstances for what they are. You can change the present moment and make things right today! It’s all about what you choose to do. No matter what though, your mother still has love for you. She forgave you a long time ago, almost as soon as she transitioned. It’s time for you to make peace with yourself, love. Take control of your future and accountability for your actions (or lack thereof). 

Cards Used: The Emperor, 9 of Cups, Prince of Discs, The Moon, 5 of Wands, Ace of Cups, 7 of Swords, Judgment, The High Priestess. 

extras:  living vicariously. narcissist. getting high. sobbing uncontrollably. asthma attack. ambush.

Pile Six: You are not a child anymore, Pile Six. Your mother is willing to talk to you about uncomfortable topics now. You’re an adult. Treat yourself as such. I think that drinking wine with your mother and having a conversation will help you guys get along better. Day drinking, wine tasting, etc will help you guys bond in a more mature way. I feel like you and your mom could be friends if you were not mother and child. You have to see the world through an adult’s eyes now. I feel like gossiping with your mom can be beneficial for your relationship, especially if it’s about old family tea. You can be in the know now, lol. I also think that paying for dinner/lunch could be a great way to prove your maturity. Honestly, your mom just wants you to grow up. You’re there but not quite. Be the butterfly that you’re meant to be. Lowkey, you might want to start saving to move out. She’s not going to kick you out or anything but you’re going to start feeling differently about the environment that you’re in. 

If your mother is deceased, please keep her updated on the latest family/friend drama lol. I feel like your mother may have had a boyfriend before she passed. I don’t know if he moved on or not but she approves of the lady he’s with now. Your mother could have had problems with conceiving/conceived at a young age. This plays into why she treated you like gold. You guys could have acted more like siblings rather than mother and child. It’s also possible that your mother could have passed at a young age (you could actually be older than your mother right now). Whatever the case may be, I feel like she wants you to finish the path that she was set to be on. Continue to honor her legacy. She could have been on the way to pursuing a degree, you should do the same but actually complete the journey. I am channeling the energy of Whitney Houston. Your mother is very animated to be honest. She wants you to embrace that energy/side of yourself. It’s in you, lol. And lastly, don’t try to hide being your mother’s child. You don’t have to be exactly like her but you are her partially. You are your own person but you just so happen to take after her mannerisms, looks, etc lol. There is nothing wrong with that. Don’t fight it. 

Cards Used: Queen of Discs, The Sun, 6 of Cups (RX), Princess of Discs (RX), 3 of Cups, The Lovers.

extras:  esperanza/hope. j. cole. popeye spinach. t-boz. slow jamz. 2004-2005. senior in college.