#anyway. like i said. they? Invented Kissing.

[egophiliac]

still ruminating over Lost In the Book With Spooky Skeletons Part 1, so here's a selection of some of my favorite little bits! (...some more loosely paraphrased than others) (I just feel like Idia has no room to criticize in general, okay)

anyway, I'm sure we're just going to have a fun time celebrating Halloween and nothing bad is going to happen whatsoever! :)

[rainbowresurrection]

Kinda got a love/hate relationship with the history of K/S because it's like. Can I please have a queer discussion about this 1960s television show without it being reduced to "shipper discourse". I thought Spock and Kirk were homo long before I knew that their characters spawned a fanfiction counterculture. The bisexual dude who wrote the episode that really kick-started the movement didn't know it was going to coalesce into the fan phenomenon that it did, he was just writing what he knew how to write best: the repression of burning male desire, and two dudes doing homoerotic shit. Can I just talk about the repressed burning male desire please, and the implications of a gay angle to Kirk and Spock's story, without it being referred to as shipper discourse. Can I do that. Does this make sense

[luveline]

also if you’re still taking requests for some established relationship criminal minds fics…

could i possibly get spencer and his bombshell when she’s having issues with not getting as hungry as she usually does? like she eats her fill but her fill is less food than she normally eats? this is very self indulgent so feel free to skip 🙏

thank you for requesting <3 bombshell, fem

“Spencer, lovely?” 

Spencer believes that only occasionally do you use your powers of seduction against him. This stringing of words, Spencer, his name, rolling off of your tongue, and lovely, so quaint and said so nicely, how you’ve called out, that’s unintentional. That’s pure niceness. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, getting up to find you. 

The point of you staying at Spencer’s apartment is to see you, why isn’t he seeing you? (Dramatic. He invites you to spend time here because you want to and he wants you, and whatever you do while you’re here is fine by him.) 

You’re in the kitchen peeling fruits. A whole fruit salad, green and red apples cut in small slices like prep for an apple-sugar crumble, peeled tangerine, strawberries, pear, grapes. “Nothing is wrong,” you sing-song. “Wait, why do you think that?” 

“No reason.” He sweeps as much of your mountain of peels and off cuts into his hand as he can and carries it to his mini compost bin. This’ll take some time. “You did call me, though?” 

“Yeah, I want your opinion.” You slice through another strawberry.

Spencer cleans the last of the peels away, rinses his hands, and creeps up on you. “Why are you drawing this out? Is it an important question? Don’t be nervous,” he says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Your shoulder is soft where he presses his nose. 

“It’s not important, I just wanna know if you think it’s okay to melt some chocolate and drizzle it over the fruit. Is that greedy? Am I gonna go into a sugar overload?” 

“That’s not greedy.” Spencer laughs softly, kissing your cheek. 

You pull away from him, but only to look at him with your own smile. It’s one he’s starting to know rather well, the I love you smile, fond and indulgent at once. It makes you look like you’re gonna pinch his cheeks. 

“You’re hungry, right?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I am.” It’s a lot of fruit. Spencer doesn’t know exactly why he says it at that very moment, but he suggests, “How about we make a little pot for fondue instead. That way if we don’t eat it all now we can put the fruit back in the fridge.” 

“You just want me to feed you,” you tease. 

Spencer hadn’t thought about it, but the image is a pleasant one. “Fondue was invented purely for dessert purposes at first, no seduction involved.” 

“Let’s involve it anyway.” 

He grins. “Before or after we eat?” he asks lightly. 

You tell him before in a way that reminds him that you aren’t just his best friend but his twin flame, drawing him close to you, your hands fragrant with orange rind and the sweet strawberry juice staining your fingertips. You take his face into your hands as he holds your waist, and when you kiss him, he smiles the entire time. 

“It wasn’t just chocolate,” he says, pulling away. “It was cream and cherry liquor, too.” 

“We should try it one day.” 

Spencer resists the urge to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks. “Yeah, we will.” 

He melts some chocolate and heats a small round dish in the oven. He pours the chocolate into the dish and you, impressed, sing his praises as you make some lemonade slush in the blender. It’s a fresh, cold snack for a warmer day. You take it in the living room with the window wide open and the drapes drawn back, sunshine at your feet. 

Spencer pulls you into his lap as much as you’ll allow him on the couch, the coffee table dragged to be in front of you, the TV remote held hostage under your arm. You dip a slice of apple into chocolate and offer it to him.

Spencer accepts it. He finds, as the bowl empties, the chocolate cools, that you don’t seem to eat very much. He slows his grazing in case he’s being greedy, but after what could only be a handful of fruit you’re done, curling into his side and hugging his leg. Your attention is on the TV but your legs wiggle restlessly.

“Is something on your mind?” he asks. 

“I don’t feel very hungry.” 

“That’s okay. It was a lot of fruit, angel, we can wrap it up.” 

“I feel like my appetite is awful lately,” you lament, sitting up to tip back across his lap, your shoulders to his thighs, looking up at him with a frown. “Do I look like I’ve lost weight to you?” 

Spencer holds your cheek. “I haven’t noticed anything, are you worried?” he asks, rubbing the softest part of your cheek with his thumb. 

“I guess it’s not a bad thing?” You wince. 

“It’s not a bad thing if you don’t feel hungry, but you need to eat. Maybe we can just switch to some dense food for a while. Protein bars and nuts, stuff like that.” Spencer leans down to tap your noses together. You laugh under your breath. “Do you want to lose weight?” he asks, frowning. 

“Not really. I’d prefer not to.” 

“Okay, good. You’re perfect like this,” he says. “We can just make sure you get your intake through whatever means necessary until we figure out what’s changed. Maybe you’re just changing. We can start having smaller meals throughout the day. It’s better for digestion.” 

You reach for a curl, twisting it around your fingers. “I have an appetite for you, at least.” 

“That’s corny,” he says. 

“You love it, though.” 

Spencer pushes the ‘diminishing appetite’ search results from his head. He can worry later, when you’ve been well and thoroughly kissed. 

[trendfag]

cirie went to at least the final 6 on three seasons of survivor, won a solo-traitors win on the first season of traitors us, came onto big brother, was THE ringleader of the house for the first half of the game (longer than any of the other games shes played already), and now that her deputies are gone shes convinced everyone inside the house, and evidently some people outside the house!, that shes a goat 😭

I genuinely don’t think bb was the best place to show off Cirie as a player because going in blind with her I’m still pretty meh about her gameplay overall…

Either wrong cast or wrong show bc something’s not working. We’ve seen legendary gameplay on this show and her game is talked about like she’s playing at that same level and it’s just… not true? It doesn’t take much for her to sway people in the house bc they’re not the best players in general.

We’ve seen better bb players so is it that people love her enough to hype her up like she is or is there something I’m missing completely?

[1-victoria-1]

Alastor x Child!Doe!Reader part 3

A/n: this is part 3 of the mini series of alastor x child!doe!reader, I hope you dear readers will enjoy it like the other two parts!

It was a very special day for you today!

It was your birthday! But while being alive you never got to celebrate it because either you papa (not Al of course) or your mama would be yelling at you or at each other and just basically not caring for you.

You didn't really tell anyone when your birthday was, you thought it wasn't important because of how your parents always reacted to it, but because of how much you loved your new papa and only wanted to celebrate it with him you told him about your birthday and its experience.

It would be a lie if Alastor said that he wasn't furious at your parents, he really thought at first your mother might be better than your father but it looks like he was wrong, he felt quite bad for his little doe daughter, so he thought why not make a small birthday party for you, just with the staff and Rosie, and he might consider adding Lucifer to the list because Charlie for sure tell her father.

Anyways, today was your special little day! And alastor was more then happy to pick out yet another cute outfit for you.

Today he picked out a soft red dress with ruffles of cores and black details on it, and he placed a black bet around you to make the dress look classy and of course black flats and gave you your miniature version of his staff.

He picked you up like always as you babbled to him with excitement to celebrate your birthday with him, not knowing the little birthday party he has planned for you.

When you both went down to the lobby, the staff and the ones who were invited (only Rosie and Lucifer) they yelled cheerfully "Happy Birthday!"

You were at first confused as well you only told Alastor about your birthday but you didn't pay much mind when you started to beam happily and giggling happily, of course you got kisses on your cheek as well as happy birthday wishes, and everyone got you a present and you were curious about them as you have never gotten so many presents on your birthday.

Alastor sat you down on one of the couches in the lobby and went to get the birthday cake and when he came back everyone, including him, sang you the happy birthday song to which you were happily wiggling in your seat which was just adorable!

You blew out the candles on the cake and were allowed to open your presents! Charlie got you a new coloring book with more pages to color and new color pencils, crayons and felt-tip pens! Vaggie didn't really know what to get you so she got you a plushie about which you were supper dupper exited! Angel got you some cute necklaces (and cute earrings if you have holes in your ears for earrings!) and also some bracelets, Husk honestly also didn't know what to get you so he also got you some new drawing supplies and paper to draw on, as well as some juice boxes which he only told you about as he had played them in the bar for you to take. Sir pentious gifted you an invention of his own which wasn't really smart as he only knew how to make war weapons and armory and he gifted you a gun..yeah alastor placed that away from you till you're old enough. Your favorite auntie, Rosie, gifted you a whole new wardrobe of mini versions of the outfits each staff member and the princesses and king and even she wore daily so you were just almost exploding from happiness! And last Luci! He gifted you a duck onesie and some rubber ducks as well!

To say the least you were literally vibrating in your seat from excitement and happiness which was adorable but you needed to calm down to eat the cake which resulted in Alastor picking you up and giving you your usual juice box, it somehow magically always calmed you down.

Then you all ate the cake and celebrated your birthday, after the celebration it was already late and everyone went to sleep but not forgetting to wish you happy birthday again and going to sleep, and you of course as well had your bedtime now, and oh how you babbled alastor's ears off by how happy you were and that it was the best birthday ever!

_________________________________________

A/n: i hope you dear readers enjoyed this part as well as the other two! Sadly it is a bit shorter then the other two but i didn't know what to add to this part, but anyways i hope you enjoyed it anyways!

And credits go to this wonderful person who gave me the idea of the duck onesie from Lucifer! : @whatthefucman

Have a wonderful day and night!

[badasscoffeemug]

okay, so, i tried to pull as many interviews as i could to see if i could parse what the original plan for bucktommy was (or if there even was any), and subsequently, if there had been a pivot of any kind. now, we are not privy to any bts talk, and storylines are never set in stone, even from when they've been teased or promoted (henchim friction? hello?) but interviews are really all we have to go off of. so, idk, i compiled some quotes, all bolded emphasis is mine.

i kinda got the impression that it really was supposed to be a 4-episode arc for tommy, after which he would gracefully bow out and leave buck a newly realized single bisexual. for some reason, that changed and they chose to keep him around and extend that storyline (gelled rather well in the story? opening the door for potential future storylines?). except then they had them break up anyway, leaving buck in much the same place he would have been had they called it quits in 7x06, only much more heartbroken (essentially wasting over half a season's worth of buck storyline, except he's sadder now, i guess). but, judge for yourself.

march 28, 2024, TM: Showrunner Tim Minear also teased future episodes for Tommy. “He’s going to be around for a little bit. He’s not going to be a member of the 118 again, but he is going to be involved in some stories.”

april 4, 2024, TM: “I was kind of bored with the hamster wheel of the relationships [Buck] had been in. His story needed a slap. It needed some something fresh. This felt like it could be important to some people, and it felt like it was right for the character.”

OS: “I’ve always had in my head that I wanted a partner for Buck to be someone where it wasn’t easy”

TM: “That’s what I like about this. He’s not siloed off into some love interest story with a character who has nothing to do with the main characters.”

Minear noted that Tommy is currently an important romantic partner for Buck, largely because “it’s sort of the entry-level relationship.” Yet at the same time, he noted that he doesn’t think “anybody’s making wedding plans.”

“It really is a first fling for Buck right now. What that might amount to, only time can tell. But what I’m interested in is not something that’s fraught. I’m interested in something that’s tender and positive”

april 4, 2024, OS: “The focus was on it being important, but also not wanting it to feel like the bravest episode in television. We just wanted to tell a lighthearted love story that happens to be a queer love story.”

april 5, 2024, TM: “[what] I don't want to do is the mistake that I think we've made with some of the other love interests, which is siloing those characters off into their love life and they have no kind of organic connection to the rest of the characters in the story. [...] Going with Tommy allowed us to start to play a story without just inventing a whole new character just for the purpose of being the bi character or the gay character or the male love interest for Buck.”

april 12, 2024, TM: “that moment at the end of the episode where he sits down with Tommy and says, “You said I wasn’t ready. I don’t know what I’m ready for, but I’m ready for something. I’m just sure what that is yet.” But he feels safe with Tommy. So even though he doesn’t know exactly what road he’s stepping onto, he’s willing to roll the dice.”

april 12, 2024, LFJ: "So, it happens in phases. My manager said 9-1-1 called, and I was like, 'Cool.' And then he is like, 'All right, well, they called for an arc.' And I'm like, 'Four episodes? Cool.'

"Given the circumstances, we just kissed. There's something there. We go on a date, and then Eddie happens to show up because there's only one restaurant, I guess, in L.A., and I would totally understand if he was nervous and whatnot." (this quote has nothing to do with my point really i just think it's so fucking funny. this entire interview is so messy.)

"I have no idea," he explained when asked what the future could hold for the duo. "If the writers do choose to extend this storyline and make it into its own thing [...] I'm just as excited as you are to find out."

april 12, 2024, OS: "I just hope he continues down that path and I think we will see him opening up more and more, and being louder and prouder about it. I want to tell real stories where not everything is going to be straightforward, but I don’t want the angst or the trauma to be in these kind of negative troupes that we’ve seen before. I want them to have real world problems that couples or people who are first dating have, but I don’t want it to be rooted in outside people being homophobic or anything like that. Those are stories we have seen and we’ve told, and sure, of course, happen in the real world, but I want to tell a happy story between these people and a real story. They have issues and they have things to deal with, but I just want them to be real world, everyday relationship issues."

april 18, 2024, OS: "we want to tell it in an honest way where not everything is going to be easy and carefree. There are going to be issues, but we also don't want it to feel like it's down or too heavy. We want to tell this queer love story in a very honest way, but also in a very loving way."

"Tarlos is a beautiful relationship," Stark says. "I'm just honored to get to tell a story that can kind of partner up with that and maybe continue with a similar thread."

"I really want to see Buck continue to explore what it is that really speaks to him, and what he's into," Stark says. "He's obviously going to continue down this path with Tommy for now. I don't know what that story is going to end up being, but I would really like for Tommy to stay a part of Buck's life, regardless. He's obviously opened this door for him, and I think it would be really nice if [Tommy] was able to continue to hold [Buck's] hand and could help guide him through this process. As somebody who's a little older and more experienced, to kind of help shepherd Buck into this new phase of understanding who he is."

april 23, 2024, OS: “I really enjoy [Lou]. I really enjoy working with him. I think he’s been a great addition to the show, and I look forward to — assuming Tommy sticks around for a while — continuing to develop that relationship with him on-screen and off-screen.”

may 2, 2024, JLH: "I’m really excited for Buck, because I think he’s a person that has never quite settled into who he is. And if this is who he is, it’s beautiful,” Hewitt said. “I was so happy Maddie felt that way, because that’s how I would feel. And I’m really happy that she’s there for him. In Season 8, the actor hopes Maddie gets to “understand what all that means, be in that with [Buck], and get to know Tommy better.”

may 3, 2024, KC: “I think it was the brilliance of [co-creator] Tim [Minear]. Even introducing the storyline of Buck and Tommy, he said, "I don't want it to be this very special episode of 9-1-1. I'm going to make this a f---ing romantic comedy, man. You won't see it coming. It'll come out of left field." And I think that's the same thing he did with the revelation. There's no sit down, there's no big discussion or talk about it. It's what it would be. This guy has found love fina…. Well, I think love finally.”

may 3, 2024, KC: "When I heard about the storyline, I was super excited. And on a selfish note, I'm really happy because they brought Lou Ferrigno Jr. back. We've become really good friends, as he was in "Hen Begins," "Bobby Begins Again," and of course "Chimney Begins," and we formed a tight personal bond. I think he's a terrific actor, and I think this new dynamic brings this newfound energy into that storyline and into the show, and I'm excited to see how it blossoms."

not dated? post-7x06, KC: “It’s one of my favorite scenes,” Choi says. “It’s a reveal for most of the characters that Buck has found a love interest he’s actually interested in. It’s adorable, it’s cute, it’s perfect, and the audience is going to love it.”

OS: Stark likens Buck’s journey to “a hamster wheel”: “He’s been taking one step forward and two steps back, as is quite typical of being in your late 20s and early 30s, trying to find yourself,” the actor explains. “As we’ve moved into this seventh season, he’s found a way to really discover who he wants to be.”

july 8, 2024: 7x09 deleted scene released

september 9, 2024, TM: “They’re still getting to know each other a little better”

september 11, 2024, TM: Minear says not much time has passed between the events of the season 7 finale and the season 8 premiere, so there haven't been many developments in Buck and Tommy's relationship. "But we see that they're more comfortable together," he explains. "We'd definitely call them a couple. Obviously they're comfortable hanging out with Eddie, but when you couple with somebody, it takes up some of your time, so that also leaves Eddie a little bit out in the cold. Well, not out in the cold, but Buck doesn't have as much free time as he did before, let's put it that way." (yeah so, this barely happened?)

september 20, 2024, OS: “We don’t really have too much of a time jump moving into this season, so the relationship with Tommy is much where it was left off,” explains Stark. “It is in its early stages. They’re still learning and figuring things out about each other and what a relationship might or could look like.”

[starkwlkr]

how bout a teenage Ruby fix where she starts dating, or maybe even a baby Ruby fix where she has like a fake wedding with one of her classmates and of course the absolute meltdown of Charles

here comes the bride | charles leclerc

i have several request for teenage ruby dating so i went with the fake wedding <3 and here we have the return of ben iykyk (he’s a classmate of ruby that appears in another fic) thanks for requesting!!

It was a sunny Friday afternoon when Charles received a piece of paper with crayon scribbled all over it from Ruby. He had just come back from his run and all he wanted was to take a shower and sleep so when he read the paper, he didn’t pay attention to it thinking it was just something Ruby wanted him to put on the refrigerator door with magnets so he did exactly that.

After taking a shower, he walked to his bedroom where his wife was waiting. As he passed by Ruby’s room, he saw her wearing her princess dress and heels, posing infront of her mirror.

“Ruby Jules, it’s time to sleep. You can dress up tomorrow. Put away your toys, okay?” Charles told her.

“Okay. I have a big day tomorrow, papa!” She smiled then proceeded to put away her Barbies in their designated spot.

Charles didn’t think much of it. Again, he thought that maybe she had a playdate the next day so he kissed her cheek and tucked her into bed. Then walked to Mathéo’s room and did the same.

The following morning, Charles was making himself a cup of tea when he heard the doorbell ring. He wasn’t expecting company, but he opened the door anyways. Once he did, he saw several of the neighborhood kids and Ben, a classmate of Ruby, with toys in their hands. They often came over to play with Ruby.

“Hi Ruby’s papa, is Ruby here?” A boy asked.

“She’s in the backyard playing.” He let the group of five kids in. They knew their way around the house so they ran towards the backyard to play with Ruby.

“Isn’t it a little early for them? It’s eight thirty.” Y/n checked her watch as she made her way into the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“Ruby got up early too. Look at her, she’s already in her princess outfit. She was wearing it yesterday night.” Charles said.

“She’s been wearing it all week I think. And those plastic princess heels with Snow White on them. Last time she stepped on my foot with those I thought I was going to die. They fucking hurt. I want to punch whoever invented them.” Y/n said as she opened the refrigerator door to get milk for Mathéo’s bowl of cereal. That’s when she noticed the paper that Ruby had given Charles last night. In pink and blue crayon it read:

‘Ruby and Ben wedding

Where? Outside

When? Morning

bring toys for the bride and Ben’

In a matter of seconds, Y/n pieced it all together. So that’s why Ruby wanted her dress to be washed and for her toy chairs to be lined up in the backyard. As Charles watched the kids play outside, Y/n took the paper from the refrigerator. She then joined Charles by the glass sliding door that led to the backyard to watch the kids.

“Why does she need all of her stuffed animals outside? They’re going to get dirty! See? Floppy just fell to the ground and Snoopy’s fur is starting to be a different color! What if I go out there and tell her to put away her toys? The other kids brought toys, she could play with those.” Charles said then sipped on his tea.

“Well you can’t crash your daughters wedding. You’re going to look like an asshole.”

Then Charles spat out his tea getting all on the glass door. “What? Wedding? Nobody is getting married!”

“Oh my dear sweet husband.” Y/n laughed. “I’m guessing she gave this to you. I just saw it on the refrigerator door.” She handed the paper to Charles.

As he read it, Mathéo ran down the stairs with his own stuffed animal in hand. “Come on! We’re going to miss the wedding!”

“He knew about the wedding too?!” Charles was pushed outside by his son, Y/n following her boys to the backyard.

“Maman! Papa! Théo! You made it!” Ruby gasped as she saw her family walking towards her and Ben, who was dressed in a simple white shirt and black shorts.

“Yeah, I live here.” Charles stated. “Ruby Jules—” he was about to tell her the wedding was off when Y/n stopped him.

“It’s fake, Charles. Just let them play.” She reminded him. “Come on, let’s sit with the rest of the bride’s family.” She saw three empty seats next to Floppy and the rest of Ruby’s stuffed animals.

“Fine, but I’m just saying. . . No boy will ever be good enough for my precious girl.” He was about to sit down next to Floppy but Ruby stopped him.

“Papa, you have to walk me down the aisle. Please?” Ruby asked.

Charles couldn’t resist. Ruby was his little girl, of course he would do anything for her. So he grabbed her hand and took her to the end of the ‘aisle’ and while baby shark played, Charles and Ruby walked towards Ben.

When they reached Ben, Charles crouched down and look at the boy. “Don’t make my little girl cry or be sad, okay? If you do, all of Italy, Monaco and her uncles will hate you—”

“Charles, babe, don’t threaten the kid.” Y/n warned as Charles got up and placed a kiss on Ruby’s temple.

Charles then joined his wife and son and sat on the uncomfortable tiny plastic chair. “I thought I wouldn’t have to do this until she was older.”

“You’re okay, you’ll live. And I thought I would be the one crying when Ruby got married.” Y/n teased.

[euniveve]

(𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐱 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐇𝐢𝐬) 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 - zhongli

pairings: zhongli x reader tags: angst & fluff (mainly fluff tho with sprinkles of angst), wife! reader, mentioned xiao w.c: 946 a.n: happy birthday my darling husband here's your birthday gift, the drabble that i rewrote; my fellow sibling spouses, enjoy

Your lashes flutter as you look down, your lips carefully pressed against the red paper to leave a cherry-red stain. A soft breath escapes your lip and your gaze shifts back to the jade mirror. Scenes such as this, remind you of your duty to your husband, to your nation– and yet as you glide your fingers, carefully blending the stain to your natural lip colour; your husband, Morax stood behind you and began parting your hair, his fingers already braiding it and arranging into an elaborate updo. 

This is a maid’s job – but the lord of geo has always insisted on doing this task himself; and how could he not? Another minute in your presence and feeling your being under his touch is another minute well-spent. His beautiful wife, his only love.

You watch his thick finger take one of the many golden hairpins on your jewellery box, the intricacies of the designs complimenting the placement of your bun– and your husband’s amber eyes gleam from the light cast by the metal, a soft smile sitting on his lips as he hummed a familiar tune. 

Your heartbeat skips, and you relish sight of his majestic form; his toned arm that’s dipped in gold, his glowing antlers that resemble the warm sun, his rich brown hair that so elegantly drapes against his shoulders and frames the sides of his face–

'Mirrors,’ you thought, breathless and lips parting, ‘really are great inventions', 

"Dearest?" His deep, sweet voice says; vibrating down your spine with warmth, hypnotizing you further into his hold. Ah yes, Morax, the man standing behind you, the god watching over you, is everything he is supposed to be and more.

"Not- Nothing!" You manage to say, flashing him a nervous smile before you shake your head, trying to save face in front of him– a wife should maintain some dignity after all.

Morax chuckled, his calloused fingers finally placing the last hairpin as you reached to take a brush from your vanity and dip it in the porcelain pot of red-stained beeswax. A personal gift from Morax's anemo yaksha, one he so offhandedly gifts after you flick your finger on his forehead, warning him to not take his duties too far. You worry over that boy– the more times he comes to the palace, the more scars riddle his body.

And yet he fights anyway. 

You could only hope that one day, the sweet yaksha will learn to smile again. A smile he once held, a smile like your husband's.

Morax's golden fingers soon find their way to yours, breaking your thoughts and submerging you deeper into his warm comforting embrace. 

"Let me help you, darling," he whispered into your ear, his hot breath hitting the tip, making you shudder from the sensation. Feeling your cheeks heating up from his declaration, you shyly nod and turn your back to face him. 

His finger makes contact with your face and you are instantly reminded of his domain. Like it, the colossus on his fingertips is rough; his hold unmoving despite being so gentle. But you close your eyes and with no hesitation, you place your face safely in his grasp. Morax, the God of Contracts, is capable of many things, but hurting you isn’t one of them.

You feel a cold touch on your forehead, knowing that with careful precision – your husband is drawing a plum blossom, your favourite flower.

"There," he said softly, planting a gentle kiss on your red-stained lips, making his appear to have a slight tint. You stifled a giggle at the sight, brushing your fingers against his lips, moving them slightly and forcing his smile to grow wider.

Morax raises his brow, thinking that you are trying to play with his face – he opens his jaw and tilts his head, breaking out a burst of unexpected joy-filled laughter from you.

"Here,” you giggled, remembering how Xiao too, acts like this when you try to force a smile at him, “lǎo gōng."

The brown-haired man hummed, watching as you tried to tell him what to do with just your face, urging him to mimic your movements. He surprisingly understood, fitting his face on the palm of your hand and closing his eyes; trusting you completely when he felt your fingers taking the brush from his fingers. 

‘Xiao,’ you recalled, ‘could really be his son..’

‘Bright golden eyes… same stubbornness…’

You giggle again, carefully painting the edge of the stone lord’s eyes, the same way as his warrior has his painted.

‘Same behaviours… same selflessness…’

"Open your eyes," you whispered and Morax instantly obeyed, his piercing amber gaze taking in your face inches from his. You smile, shifting from your seat and allowing him to see both of you in the jade mirror.  

And there it was, the both of you. Rex Lapis and his wife. You couldn’t help but widen your smile, blinking slowly as you whisper underneath your breath; "Xiao would love this.”

Then you snickered to yourself, already imagining the look on the yaksha's face when he had seen what you had done. It would probably hold horror and awe, yet still accompanied by subtle gratefulness he would display in between quiet murmurs. Indeed, you should probably talk to Morax about adopting him…

The geo god lets out a small chuckle as he wraps his arm around you, enveloping you back into his warm embrace. His lips kiss your neck, his face buried on its crook. With a nostalgic sigh he takes in the bliss this scene emits. A short pleasure in the inevitable long life of the Geo Archon.

"He'd have to thank you for that, my precious wife."

[shalomniscient]

MACHINIST! || grace howard x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

GOT YOUR BODY ON THE BED I CAN SEE THE PRESENTATION / SAID SHE A MACHINIST / BODY UNDER PRESSURE / I BE FIENDING / COMPANY YEAH I KNOW THAT SHE BE NEEDING

cw. reader is an android and has a robot dick (thanks grace), some praise, dumbification, established relationship, robotfucking (?), some breeding talk/breeding kink, switch!grace and switch!reader, handjobs, creampie, vibrators (technically)

notes. had MACHINIST! by Sh!nki on repeat while writing this, please do check out their song it’s genuinely so good !!! also shoutout to @nbdaddykink for enabling this brainrot

“What were all the functions again?”

From between your legs, Grace looks up at you, sunset-red eyes glittering. The artificial cock resting against your thigh is attached to the rest of your body by a connective plate around your groin, the base measurements perfect to the milimeter. Somehow, Grace managed to get your skin tone correct as well, so much so the inter-plate spaces are barely visible. Distantly, you wonder if she used a color picker on you at some point without you knowing—you honestly wouldn’t be surprised.

It’s better that way, anyway. You’d nearly choked the first time she asked to take measurements of your crotch, and you don’t even breathe.

“Since it’s just my first prototype, Mark I, it’s only got a vibration function,” she explains. She trails a finger along the soft length—medical grade silicone, she had assured you—and nods to herself when you grunt in response, fingers curling into the bedsheet. “And the sensory input, obviously.”

“Right,” you huff. She continues to stroke you somewhat absently, more curious than particularly aroused. You, on the other hand, are quite the opposite—your entire body feels warm, too warm, and the small flaps on the vents along your back and shoulders flip up as your system draws in cool air to manage your steadily climbing temperatures. It’s almost embarrassing, the way Grace can get you overheating like some cheap laptop at the slightest of touches, but the she smiles when she looks at you like you’ve given her the answers to the universe and it’s rather difficult to feel anything other than affection in that moment.

“Feels good?” she asks, leaning up to get a closer look at your expressions. Your cock twitches in her hand, slowly hardening, and you give her a strained, wry smile.

“Quite,” you answer, sucking in a sharp breath as her hand pumps up and down. You’re only half listening to her explanation about the dick’s engineering—thin tubes reroute some of your synthetic blood into the cock when it’s stimulated (or whenever you please, really), making it hard, much like an organic dick. The real treat of her little— actually, no, relatively large invention is the fact that it can vibrate, and that you won’t get soft until you consciously make that decision.

“As for cum, I managed to synthesize something kind of close to the real thing,” Grace continues, her thumb swiping over the tip and smearing some of the pre-cum along your length, drawing a strangled groan from your throat. “But I’ll have to take it off to replace it once you’ve used it all up.”

You can only manage a grunt in response, hips twitching at her touch. You buck up into her fist, and Grace’s grin widens. “Are you getting close?” she asks, and you nod rapidly, utterly unable to form words. Pleasure clogs your processors, and your vision fuzzes blue at the edges. Grace’s hand moves faster, and she climbs fully into your lap, plush thighs on either side of your own. She leans in close, her breath mingling with yours before she kisses you so softly, experimentally, and it’s enough to send you over the edge with a hiss.

Artificial cum spills from your cock and onto her hand, a thick, creamy white that almost looks like glue. Grace pulls back and looks at her hand with pure marvel in her eyes, removing her hand from your still-stiff dick to note the way your cum coats her hand. She pinches two fingers together, then spreads them apart, and a thick, viscous string connects them together. The action is enough to make another shudder run through your wired nerves, and you grip her waist and flip her over onto the bed before she can protest or insist on writing down some preliminary observations.

She yelps lightly, but then her lashes flutter as you roll your hips against hers, the wet tip of your cock pressing against her clothed cunt. Your sensors pick up on her elevated heart rate and increased oxytocin levels, and you breathe out a pleased sigh, leaning down to kiss at her neck and down to her shoulders, your teeth scraping against the tattoo on her right.

“How about we move on to phase two of testing, hm?” you rasp. You roll your hips again, and Grace mewls, looping her arms around your neck and leaning back into the pillows.

“Th-that’d be good, yup,” she responds, and you smile against her. You kiss her shoulder again, and the saltiness from the light sheen of sweat on her skin blooms on your tongue. You draw back and make quick work of her pants, shimmying them down her thighs and discarding them on the floor. You can’t help the groan that rumbles in your chest when you note the state of her underwear—entirely soaked and clinging to the lips of her pretty pussy.

You draw a finger along the drenched cloth, and Grace squirms, the muscles in her stomach jumping at the sensation. “So wet, baby,” you murmur, voice low, “all for me?”

Sunset-red eyes meet your again, and Grace’s voice is deliciously breathless when she answers. “All for you, jus’ you.”

“Good girl,” you hum, and a full-body shudder runs through her at the praise. Grace has always been terribly weak for it; not that you mind. There’s little you quite enjoy more than telling your darling machinist how wonderful she is—if anything, you think she needs to hear more of it.

Your fingers find the waistband of her panties and you tug them off, tossing them into the same pile her pants have ended up in on the floor. Gently, you spread her legs a little wider, shifting slightly to position yourself correctly. Your tip catches against her clit and it draws a pleased noise from both of you, and you squeeze her thighs as a reflex, the flesh so plush under your touch.

“‘m gonna put it in now, baby,” you murmur, bracing yourself over her with one hand. Grace’s own clutch at your shoulders and she nods, her eyes blown wide as she looks into yours, and so you have the privilege of watching them roll back into her skull as you slowly sink into her, spreading her open on your cock. The first thing that hits you is how warm she is; the next is the tightness. You nearly whimper at the combined intensity of being wrapped by her perfect pussy, inner walls clenching as you sink another inch and then another into her slowly but surely.

Fuck, you don’t think you’ll ever be able to go back to using a strap after this.

Grace whines loudly once you finally bottom out, your hips meeting hers with a wet smack. Her inner thighs are smeared with her own wetness as it leaks out of her beautifully stuffed cunt, and you grit your teeth to hold yourself back from pile driving her into the mattress. “You okay?” you manage between lungfuls of air, inhaling more to cool your overheating components. Beneath you, Grace nods frantically, her face flushed and nearly as red as her irises.

“You can move,” she gasps as she wriggles her hips, chasing any sort of friction from your stationary cock. “D-don’t forget to try out the vibration function—“

You nip her rambling in the bud by both kissing her and pulling out until the tip, before slamming back inside. Grace moans into your mouth and you devour it greedily, like you needed it to keep operating. You give in to your desire from before and drive her into the mattress with such intensity that Friday could consider retiring early. Your mouth travels hungrily from her lips down to her neck, sucking and biting marks into the pale skin that you know will have Koleda aging another ten years while Ben won’t be able to look neither you nor Grace in the eye.

You nearly rip Grace’s bra off in your haste, fingers fumbling with the zipper. She sighs as her breasts are freed, then moans again when your lips seal around her nipple and sucks. You lave her chest with attention all while you pound into her cunt, the wet sounds of sex echoing all around the room. Her fingers dig into your back, blunt nails creating a delicious pressure that has you bucking just a little harder into her.

“Baby, I’m— I’m gonna—“ she mewls, and you fuck into her faster, utterly rearranging her guts. You’re sure if you look down, you’d see a little bulge forming over where your cock nestles inside her. But you don’t, not this time, because the sight of Grace’s debauched expression is already taking up so much of your processing bandwith. You push up on the bed, nearly folding her in half as your teeth ghost the shell of her ear.

“Gonna what, Grace? Use your words,” you breathe, and she whines, one leg nearly kicking out against you.

“Cum, gonna cum,” she babbles, arching up into your chest, spit-slicked breasts pressing against your chest. You manage a slight chuckle at that, but you aren’t better off either. That blue fuzz creeps along the edges of your vision again, and you know you’re close.

So what better time than to test out the final function?

Activation is impulse related, you remember Grace saying, which basically means all you have to do is think about it for it to activate. And activate it does—Grace screams as the vibrations come to life, buried as you are eight inches deep in her pussy. She bears down on you, hard, nearly pushing you out. You only grunt and put a little more force into your thrusts and Grace sobs fat tears of pure pleasure that you reverently kiss away. You see any higher order thinking skills fade from her eyes as she loses herself in the feeling of you and your cock in her cunt, and she looks so achingly beautiful like this that you can’t resist the urge to kiss her softly, a far cry from the way you’re fucking her almost ruthlessly.

“Good girl,” you pant against her lips. “Good girl, so good for me, my Grace. My genius girl, making me all sorts of toys for me to fuck her with, hm?”Only the whites of her eyes are visible as she slurs out pitiful ‘thank-yous’ at your praise. She gets impossibly tighter, and you know both of you are only seconds away from an orgasm that will have you undoubtedly short-circuiting.

You press a hand to her tummy, over the bulge your cock makes. “‘m gonna cum inside this cute cunt, baby,” you promise, trading your fast pace for slower, deeper strokes, practically assaulting her g-spot with pinpoint accuracy, made only more intense by the vibrations. Your thumb finds her clit and Grace howls, loud enough that anyone in the house would definitely hear. “Jus’ a shame this cum is fake—else I would’ve given you a baby like you want, hm?”

The combination of your words in her ears, thumb on her clit and cock in her cunt send Grace careening off the edge with a sound between a scream and a moan, her entire body locking up with the intensity of it. Squirt sprays out of her clenching pussy and all over your abdomen, and the sight forces you over as well, the blue fuzz swallowing your vision whole. You can barely feel the way your cock pumps the fake cum deep inside her, your hips moving entirely of their own accord as your system reboots from the force of your orgasm.

By the time you come to again, you’re braced over Grace, her legs locked around your hips. Your cock has stopped vibrating on its own, probably due to the fact you practically bluescreebed. Some semblance of thought has returned to Grace’s pretty eyes, and something flutters in your mechanical heart at the satisfied expression on her face. You brush a strand of dark hair out of her eyes, and she wordlessly asks for a kiss. You indulge in her request, lips meeting hers gently. You fit so perfectly against her sometimes you wonder if you were manufactured for her.

“I take it the first round of testing is a success?” you ask, and Grace laughs, her voice somewhat hoarse.

“Definitely.”

(For scientific reasons, you do another two rounds of ‘testing��—after all, repetition is good to ensure the accuracy of the result, right?)

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS Niconico Premium Exclusive ☽ 10th Anniversary Sadistic Radio Mini Drama Translation ☽ Fireworks by the Sea in the Otherworld

Original title: ドS吸血ラジオ ～Resurrection Night 10th Anniversary 朗読ミニドラマ～ 「あの世浜辺で見た花火」 Voiced by Midorikawa Hikaru (Ayato), Toriumi Kōsuke (Shuu), Konishi Katsuyuki (Reiji) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (mini drama runs from 01:10-07:20)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

This mini drama was performed live during the DL 10th anniversary event on Niconico back in 2022! During the introduction, the voice actors were talking about how happy they were to perform together again instead of alone in a recording booth, which was really wholesome. And honestly, having the three brothers fawning over you... oh my (♡´𓋰`♡) Thank you to @otomeheroines for requesting!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

01:10 [Fireworks go off in the distance.]

Ayato: These fireworks are huge! And they’re spherical! Awesome! Actually, why are they spherical? You don’t know either, do you, Pancake?

Reiji: They were invented by a famous pyrotechnician from the Edo period (1). This should be common knowledge.

Shuu: [To you:] Hey, you. Don’t act all impressed by the fireworks and tell us what’s going on here.

A: Yeah! You invited me to watch the fireworks with you. Why’re there three of us here?

[You explain the situation.]

A: Huh? You invited all three of us? I know nothing ‘bout that.

R: Me neither. [To you:] If anything, this should be attributed to your thoughtlessness. Did you just decide to invite the general public to our date?

S: This is some bullshit. If this is a quadruple date, I’ll pass. I don’t care about these children’s antics.

R: Why, Shuu, heading home already?

S: Yeah. Not only are the two of you bothering me, but the fireworks and Ayato’s yapping are so loud that I can’t hear my music at all. I’ll go home and sleep.

A: Great, that’s one rival down! And she has no eyes for Reiji, anyway. Pancake’s all mine! 

R: How regrettable, Ayato. It is quite pathetic for you to be under the impression that she chose you.

A: What? You pickin’ a fight with me?

R: Who knows? [To you:] Either way, I prepared iced tea for you. Could I interest you in drinking it with me on that hill over there?

A: Wow, Reiji, you’re just doing however the fuck you please, huh? That’s totally like you.

S: Hold on. If the two of you paid attention earlier, I haven’t said a word about letting you do with her as you please. Don’t misunderstand.

03:29 R: [To Shuu:] Well, well. I thought you were going home, but it seems as though you lust after her after all.

S: I changed my mind. Even if I tried to sleep, I’d have nothing to lay my head on if she’s not there.

R: She went through all this trouble just to watch the fireworks. There is no way she would go home with you without having properly seen them.

A: I know, right? Shuu, you know jack shit ‘bout the minds of women.

S: What? I know enough but I don’t bother telling you about it. I’ll play along with your provocations, though.

A: Well then, you’d better prepare to lose. I’ll prove to you all right here that I’m the best.

04:12 [The scene changes. The boys are going to try and appeal to you.]

Ayato: Bet you’re enjoying making us fight over you, huh, Pancake? You’ve no right to refuse me. Just be a good girl and become mine. You can tell me ‘no’ all you want, but you know full well how your body responds to my fangs.  Be honest and tell me you want me so badly it hurts. I’ll have you in ecstasy before you know it.  So choose me, Pancake.

[Ayato kisses you.]

Shuu: Heh. You have no composure at all, Ayato. What’re you doing, trying to lead her on like that? [To you:] You know you’ve been head over heels for me from the start. I won’t let you get away now. So just be a good girl and confess your love. Lose yourself in me. I’ll make you feel so good you won’t be able to think about anything else.

[Shuu kisses you.]

05:20 Reiji: [To you:] You have a strange talent for winding vampires around your finger. I’d say you are a femme fatale. I wonder how far you will go to tempt us. What does it take to satisfy you? I have lived for many, many years, and yet this is the first time someone has pulled at my heartstrings like this. However, I am not used to being at the receiving end of such temptation.  I shall have you at my mercy next. 

[Reiji kisses you.]

05:56 A: Hah. You’re both way too subtle. I’m the clear winner!

S: Come on. There’s no way she’ll be swayed by such childish words. It’s clear that she’s going to choose me.

R: She cannot make a proper choice if you keep pressing her like this. 

[To you:] Please, answer according to your true feelings.

A: [To you:] You can’t live without me, and I’m no good without you either. You know that, right?

S: [To you:] You’re at fault for making me crazy about you. You’ll be a good girl and take responsibility, won’t you?

R: [To you:] I cannot accept any other outcome than you ditching those two for me. We have spent so much time in each other’s company. Does that not count for anything?

A: It’s Yours Truly, right?

S: You choose me, right?

R: I am the only viable option.

[You make a run for it.]

06:50 A: Huh? She’s running away!  Hey! Slow down, Pancake!

S: Don’t think you’ll get away after leading me on like that.

R: Good grief. How very unladylike, running across a sandy beach like that.

[You keep running as fireworks go off in the distance…]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(1) The Edo period is a period in Japanese history that ran from 1603 until 1868, characterised by the Tokugawa shogunate (the military government) which was centred in Edo. Edo is the former name for Tokyo, which was the de facto capital of Japan in this period as opposed to Kyoto, which was the historical seat of the Emperor (and therefore the official capital) until 1868.

[huffleflufflefly]

Now That I "See" You - An Ominis Gaunt x Reader One Shot

I've edited this so many times and yet I keep finding typos and mess ups 😥. I hope it's all better now.

Ominis Gaunt x Reader One Shot

Fluff? I think? I'm new to this. It's not spicy so.

Temporary eyesight, kissing, cuddling...I think that's it XD

(I got this idea from deaf people having Cochlear implants to be able to hear and I thought, what if they made glasses so you could only see when you wear them? (Using magic obviously, I know we can’t do that IRL) Also, if you got tired or overwhelmed seeing things, you could just take them off! Similar to the implants, when you don’t want to hear, you can just take the magnets off. Anyway I’m not the best at writing, but this idea was in my head for a long time! Enjoy!)

Basically: You’ve been working on a temporary fix to help Ominis see. You’ve tried multiple potions, charms, the lot. You came up with an idea to somehow enchant a pair of glasses to help him see. You’ve tried quite a few times, but you felt this pair was the one!

"I've done it!"

I yell as I sprint over to where Ominis is. He's in his usual spot. The cold, hard floor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower.

"You've said that at least a hundred times already" He teased, a small smirk playing on his lips as he looked in your general direction.

You shoot him a playful glare which he can sense, making his smirk grow wider. "Oh c'mon, try to be a little more supportive than that! This is for you, you know!"

I reach into my bag and pull out my invention as previous forms of it spill out, littering the floor. Pairs of glasses. Enchanted glasses to be specific. 

These are intended to let the user see temporarily while they have them on. Ominis has been very patient with you through this long process with each prototype, each one giving no new result so far aside from one that made him see a blinding light once. You apologized again and again until he scolded you. He asked you to continue in the hopes that that meant there was some improvement in store.

You'd been at it for hours, days. The dark circles under your eyes making it more than evident of your sleep deprivation. Fortunately, the boy you care so much to stay up these ungodly hours for didn't notice, or so you thought.

"I hope these work this time, for your sake." He definitely noticed. “I don’t understand why you’re going through all of this effort in the first place, (Y/N) .”

I sigh. “Do I need a reason? If I must, I was curious if there was anything that could be done. When Sebastian told me your family tried everything, I felt like there had to be something!

“You sound an awful lot like Sebastian right now.” He chuckled softly as I instruct him to close his eyes before placing the glasses on his face, resting them on the bridge of his nose.

His eyes opened slowly as he felt the cold metal against his nose. Nothing. No difference. Not even the brightness that hurt his eyes with the last pair. He comes up with something, anything to hear the smile in her voice.

“I think I see something! Little shapes!” He tries to settle his voice as he lies, but it’s obvious to  you.

“It’s alright,” You sigh in defeat, sinking to the floor to sit beside him. “I thought for sure this one would work! I used anything I could that claims to improve eyesight!”

He tilts his head toward you, a playful smirk growing on his face, “(Y/N), you can’t improve eyesight that wasn’t there to begin with.” He meant to say it in a teasing, yet comforting way, but then he heard a sniffle and quickly reached out to you, pulling you towards him before you could start crying. 

“Shh..I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way, darling.” He rubs your back gently as he tries to soothe your disappointed heart. “I don’t need to see to be happy. I have you and Sebastian in my life. I couldn’t ask for anything more.” One hand moves to your hair while the other searches for and cups your cheek. “I don’t need sight to know how much I’m cared for, nor how beautiful you are.”

At this you blush slightly, the heat carrying over to his fingers. Your frown curling into a smile. “I know that…but I wanted to try. You deserve to see this beautiful world.”

He puts a finger to your lips, cutting you off. “All I want is to be here with you, my dear.” Ominis traces his finger along your lips. “And maybe a kiss as well” You look into his cloudy blue eyes, a mischievous glint dancing across them.

“That can definitely be arranged.” You reach for him and pull him close, connecting your lips, the kiss laced with passion and understanding. Feeling his kiss settled your sadness and desire to keep trying to help him see. You relax almost enough to fall asleep in his arms, but tense up when you start slipping. 

After a few moments you pull away. “You know it’s a shame, you look very handsome in these glasses.” 

He chuckles, lifting a hand to caress your cheek. “If you’d like, I’ll wear them for a bit.” His eyes widen suddenly and flicker around your face. He…sees something! Similar to his wand, being able to see shapes, silhouettes of people and objects, but a bit different. He can see a bit more shapes. 

You notice his eyes travel to yours, locking onto them. “Ominis?” You look at him, a confused, concerned expression plastered on your face. He can see the outline of your eyebrows turning inward.

“I..I can see..maybe not everything, but…(Y/N)..I think it worked after all!” He cups your face, still looking into your eyes, lifting his hands to your face to feel the features he sees. “This is incredible! I see my hands moving, the outline of your jaw, your eyes.” He pauses for a moment, a warm, affectionate smile forming on his face. “You’re beautiful (Y/N)! Just as I thought! Oh Merlin, this is incredible!”

You take a moment to register his words, blinking rapidly. Finally, your face softens and you smile. “It worked?”

“Yes! I can see far more than I can with my wand!” He reaches down with ease and grasps your hands tightly. “Thank you (Y/N), truly.” 

Feeling both accomplished and full of love for this man, you pull him into a tight embrace. You both hold each other, tearing up slightly from the excitement. You immediately start thinking of more experiments to try out.

[songbirdseung]

pink roses / park jongseong

you were used to the toxic side of love but now that you were dating park jongseong, you realize love isn't that bad at all genre fluff, budding relationship, slice of life

the sky was still dark, the rain was pouring down hard, and the voice in your mind was telling you just stay home. but then again, the alarm clock on your bedside table reminds you that work cannot wait and it's time to get up and get ready. whoever invented starting work at 7am? curses.

you begrudgingly toss the blankets off your body and plant your feet on the cold floor. staring into the dark of your room, zooning out until your far in deep to the point where you think the coat on your door is a scary figure. groaning as you get up from your comfy bed to get the day started, not knowing a little surprise was waiting for you in a few minutes.

after a while, as you were tidying up your uniform, the scent of waffles and bacon hit your senses. if it wasn't for the smell, you'd probably be freaking out and thinking you're losing your mind and hallucinating. but you damn well knew who was causing this, smiling as you made your way into the kitchen and proving your hypothesis. it was him.

park jongseong, your lover.

"hey beautiful, you've been up for a while?" plating the food so prettily and turning off the stove, even cleaning after himself. "yeah...you've been here for a while?" "mhm, i came in with the spare key you gave me...hope that's alright" he comes closer to you, giving you a hug and a kiss on your cheek. nodding at him, reassuring him that it was fine. "you practically live here anyway" he laughs and smiles, and God damn. that smile and laugh, it makes your heartbeat faster and your knees weak. "i guess i am here often, huh?"

"why don't you just stay home with me, pretty doll?" bringing you to the table, pulling the chair and pushing it in back in after you take your seat. "besides, the weather is pretty bad" taking his own spot next to you and tucking a strand of hair away from your face to get a better look at you. "i wish..." the thing with jay is; if he wants something, he gets it. he's a major green flag but can be a little greedy when it comes to you. you've noticed that since the very start of your relationship that started 6 months ago. the bare minimum? he goes beyond that, giving more than you think you deserve and whenever you tried to stop him and whine that he's doing too much, he'd usually shut you up with a kiss, telling you that whatever he was doing wasn't even his best.

love bombing? that ain't him either, he knows the limits and your boundaries that you set up. trust him, he knows what he's doing, thank his mother for that.

"your boss already called" "what?" he chuckles at your confused expression and points to your phone that you left in the kitchen. "he called telling you not to come into work, the weather is getting pretty dangerous to go out. maybe an online meeting later or something" smirking as he wipes away the syrup from the corner of your lips. "so, you're telling me, i got dressed in my work clothes for no reason?" sighing as you shove another forkful of waffles in your mouth causing jay to chuckle at you. "wear the top part to your meeting later and wear those comfy cat pjs you like to wear"

later in the day, jay was minding his own business sitting on your living room couch working on his own paperwork when you suddenly came and hugged him from behind. "well, hello to you, pretty baby."

he tilted his head to look at you, asking if you needed anything. you shook your head and just continued hugging him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. jay smiled softly, taking one of your hands and kissing the back of it. "meeting over?" he asked, gently pulling you around to sit beside him on the couch.

"yeah… was hoping to spend time with you now," you said, a small pout forming as your eyes fell on the scattered documents and laptop on the table. the work seemed to mock you with how much it was keeping jay occupied. he caught your gaze and chuckled, pressing another kiss to your knuckles. "just a few more, then i'm all yours."

you nodded with a sigh, but after a few minutes of waiting, your patience began to waver. jay was still deep in concentration, his brows furrowed as he typed. unable to sit still, you leaned closer, resting your head on his shoulder and tracing invisible patterns on his arm.

"babe," jay said softly, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips, "you're making it hard to concentrate."

"good," you replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. "you've been working for hours."

"i know, i know," he said, chuckling as he glanced sideways at you. "just give me a bit more time, okay?"

but you weren't done being needy. your hand slid down to lace with his, giving it a light squeeze, and you pressed small kisses to his shoulder, each one more distracting than the last. jay tried to stay focused, but the playful huff he let out told you he was struggling.

"you’re trouble, you know that?" he teased, finally putting down his pen and turning his full attention to you. before you could react, he scooped you up and settled you on his lap, making you gasp at the sudden move. your face flushed as you looked at him, wide-eyed.

"jay!" you exclaimed, trying to regain your composure, but he just grinned, eyes crinkling with amusement. "what? you wanted my attention, didn't you?" he teased, fingers trailing up your sides, making you squirm and giggle.

"stop it, you're not playing fair!" you protested, laughter bubbling out as he leaned in, nuzzling the crook of your neck.

"i thought you liked it when i didn't play fair," he whispered, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. you felt your heart race as his hands stilled, holding you close, the laughter replaced by a soft, contented silence.

"okay, okay, you win," you admitted, resting your forehead against his. he smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

"good," he said. "because i'm finally done, and now, i'm all yours."

[dsudis]

Dreamling Bingo fill: Hihte Spreytes

Square/Prompt: B2, Adoptable Prompt "Creatures: Hyter Sprites"

Title: Hihte Spreytes

Rating: G

Ship(s): Dreamling

Additional Tags: Hyter Sprites, Storytelling, The Dreaming Realm

Summary: A band of tiny creatures followed Hob everywhere in the Dreaming, and he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what they were, and why they were so interested in him.

Hob was trying his very best to enjoy visiting the Dreaming. It was the first time he and Dream had met up in Dream's kingdom for a date, instead of in Hob's waking life, and it was obvious that Dream was anxious for him to enjoy the visit. He had already been introduced to Matthew and Lucienne, which had had distinct overtones of Meeting the Family, but now he was meeting Dream's work, everything that was really important to him.

It was amazing, of course, brilliant in ways that real—that waking—life could never be.

It just also seemed to feature a band of tiny creatures following Hob everywhere, and he had a sneaking suspicion he knew what they were, and why they were so interested in him.

"Dream," he said, coming to a halt in a field full of multicolored flowers that played a bewildering variety of tunes as they swayed in the wind. The creatures scattered, taking cover under the blossoms. "There are, uh... there are some little creatures following me, aren't there?"

Dream looked amused. "Would you like to see them?"

Hob met Dream's eyes, and realized that, of course, Dream knew exactly where the little creatures came from and why they were following Hob. "Did I really, then? Did I invent them?"

Dream's smile widened, and he made a small, regal gesture, which was immediately answered by a rushing of tiny feet as the little sprites—hyter sprites, people called them now—gathered around Hob and gazed up at him.

"Tell me what you think you did," Dream said, sinking down to sit in the grass, his long coat pooling beautifully around him. "And I shall tell you what transpired."

Hob looked down again at the cheerful little creatures—and even as he watched, two of them seemed to hear something and dashed off toward it, while the rest remained, listening attentively. A few raised friendly hands, and Hob bent, and then sat just as Dream had—only instead of the dramatic skirts of his coat about him, he had a couple of dozen sprites, also sitting now, gazing up at him rather than paying any attention to their proper king, who surely was the one responsible for creating them.

"It was nothing," Hob said helplessly. "Just... just a laugh, and... and a story I half-remembered being told, hundreds of years before."

"Every dream begins somewhere," Dream said, properly smiling now. "As does every story, though some storytellers are more to the point than others."

"Right, right, all right!" Hob shook off the bit of performance anxiety that all the little watchful eyes were giving him and focused on Dream, who surely already knew this story and was simply looking forward to hearing Hob tell it. "I decided to spend all of the 1870s out of London, to decide who I'd be next. I planned to come back in 1880, get myself established and settled to be ready to see you in 1889."

Dream's smile dimmed a little, and Hob shook his head, plucked a flower playing something tinkly and bright. He gave one bright petal a kiss, and it changed to belting out "Friday I'm in Love," and Hob grinned and tossed it at Dream. In defiance of anything resembling the laws of physics as he knew them, the flower drifted over to Dream and tucked itself behind his ear.

Dream was smiling again, which was all that mattered.

"Anyway, so there I was, 1871 or so, and I went out to the back of beyond—the Fens. Been there a time or two before, but not for a long while. And I knew I would never pass myself off as belonging there, not to them, but they didn't mind a hard worker, and I kept my head down well enough. Until..."

The sprites all wiggled in anticipation, and Hob darted a glance at Dream and found himself sharing a knowing smile.

"Until one night at the pub, this man was going around asking people to tell stories. Down from one of the universities, taking notes for a book and all. I was sitting with a few of my mates—all of us from off the Fens, all there for one reason and another, most of them for years by then. And the man comes over to us and asks us if we know any country stories, if our grandmothers told us any tales of little creatures from these parts. And I put on my best East Anglian—which was a hundred years out of date by then, but I'm sure he liked it all the better for that—and said, aye, I knew an old, old tale. Which I did! Sort of."

The sprites giggled, and underneath that was a soft thundery sound with a screechy overtone that meant Dream was giggling too, and trying not to be too obvious about it.

"I had a mate!" Hob insisted, playing to his audience. "He was from... somewhere east! Probably the Fens! Had a lot of opinions about mud, anyway, and bogs and things. Drains. And he told me a story once, about... something like you lot, I think. I may have been drunk. He certainly was. But the story stuck in my head, and so I told it to that man with the notebook, and he got all excited because it was one he hadn't heard before, anywhere, and the other lads at the table all followed right along with their own best try at Norfolk—one of them came out sounding positively Welsh, it was disgraceful—but the lad with the notebook just nodded along while they all made up their own versions of my story. The rest of the pub couldn't help hearing, either, and it just... kept going," Hob finished. "And now... here you all are?"

The sprites cheered, and Dream somehow managed to clap all alone without sounding sarcastic. The sprites all looked over to him, and Hob did too, eager to know how one night's joke at the bar had turned into... whatever, exactly, it had turned into.

"In 1463 you broke your leg," Dream informed him, consulting a book which seemed to have come from nowhere. "You were riding with a group of bandits at the time which included a man named..." Dream glanced up expectantly.

Hob winced and narrowed his eyes. "Started with an H, I think? Our names went together, I remember that. Or they rhymed?"

"Harry," Dream said, putting him out of his misery. "From Croyland, in the Fens. He set the bone for you, having some experience of such practices, and did a good job of it, and he sat with you while you were feverish and in pain. He liked you a great deal, though he did not often let you see it, for he sensed something uncanny about you, and he was cautious."

Hob winced, remembering how many friends he had had over the years who fit that mold—but then he was here now, with Dream, far more uncanny, who liked that Hob was human.

"He told you a story, saying that it was one he had heard as a child, of the hihte spreytes."

Again Dream paused, waiting for Hob to get it, and Hob wracked his brain for a translation from the language of his youth to the one that had, bit by bit, supplanted it in his brain. "High... no, it meant... joyful?"

"Hopeful," Dream corrected gently. "Though either word could perhaps apply: he was thinking of you, and your eagerness to meet each day, each new person and place, in the expectation that you would discover something worth seeing."

He'd been so young then, barely more than a century old—but he could hardly claim to have settled down that much, even if he did a better job of playing the cynic everyone nowadays was meant to be. He was perhaps no better, even now, at pretending he didn't need to be told a bedtime story where he himself was somehow the hero, but in fairness the sprites also seemed very interested; surely Dream was catering just as much to his little subjects.

"So he told you a story of little creatures who were just like you, mischievous but mostly kind and joyful, who would return cattle they found wandering even if they meant to properly steal them the next day, or take a lost child home to their kin with no thought of demanding a reward."

"I never was very good at being a bandit," Hob admitted. "It was all just... people."

"Just people," Dream agreed. "And when you told what you remembered of the story in that pub in 1871, and when the story was put into a book, many more people found room in their minds and hearts for the notion of the hyter sprites, and told the stories to their children, with many elaborations and variations. And so they and their children began to dream of the sprites, who accordingly came to live here in the Dreaming, to become what they will in those dreams—but they have never quite forgotten where they began."

A few of the sprites changed into birds at that, and one into a spiderlike creature, but the rest remained cheerfully themselves—little happy, curious people. The two who had run off—in search of a lost animal or child?—returned and settled again among the others.

"Well," Hob said, looking down at them and feeling the same not-quite-earned paternal pride that he felt looking out at a new class of bright young students who hadn't had all the joy of learning ground out of them yet. "Glad to see you all, then. Glad I could help you along."

The sprites, as one—even the birds, even the spider thing—looked pointedly from Hob to Dream and back again, and then they all vanished, leaving a cascade of giggles behind them. When Hob looked over, Dream was on his feet. He took another step, offering his hand to Hob, and Hob took it, letting himself be pulled up.

Hob let his momentum take him right up against Dream, who accepted Hob into his arms quite as if that was what he had intended—and maybe it was, here. Hob kissed him rather than try to thank Dream for all he had shown him so far. "Helpful little creatures, aren't they?"

"I am," Dream murmured against Hob's lips, "quite unreasonably fond of them." Then he took a step back, and took Hob's hand in his, as if there were some danger of Hob running off in search of lost children to rescue. "Come, there is much more to see."

"Always is," Hob agreed, and held on firmly to Dream's hand as he looked around for whatever he was going to find next.

-----

[This fic is also on the Ao3!]

[flower-yi]

Margaret's greeting to you is sweet.

She's the assistant Veritas took in three years ago, and hasn't left since. Most people applying to the position have ulterior motives—you glumly recall a specific student, because my goodness, they have little to no shame these days—but just one meeting with her made you sure she'd be 'the one'. Her unwavering yet gentle disposition was endearing, and despite Veritas's distrustful attitude, she got in anyways.

(You think it's one of the best decisions he's made.)

"Is there anything in the mail?" You ask, shutting the door behind you.

She hums, "No, not really."

"Really?" This surprises you. Usually, it's a race to contact him on anything new he's working on. "Veritas said he's expecting letters for that weapon he's finished working on. You know, the anti-planetary one?"

"Remind me what's... that, again?"

Margaret furrows her eyebrows. Maybe Veritas forgot to tell her. "Remember that project he's been working on for a long time? The weapon got sent in for a test-firing and it was successful. So, he's waiting for any correspondence from anyone who'd like to expand on it."

(You remember peeking into his office, once, wondering why he was up so late. He promised more than four hours ago that he'll join you in bed, but there was only a coldness to his side of the bed you'll never get accustomed to.

"I will be there in a couple minutes, my love," Veritas addressed you without lifting his gaze from the blueprints he's scribbling on. From the mess on his hands, it seems he's been working on it since tucking you in. "You may go to the bedroom yourself. It is unnecessary to wait on me."

Instead of listening to him, you entered his office with the door clicking behind you. Veritas's head lifted, lips parted and about to say something, but he stopped; adjusting his glasses.

You draped over him, meeting cold skin.

"What're you working on?" You asked, instead. His warmth soothed you. "Mmh... looks like it's important."

Veritas placed a hand on yours, raised to his lips to be kissed. Aeons, your little doctor was so warm. "This weapon... will be a magnum opus. One that will eventually serve its purpose, and will be recognized for years to come."

Even in the sleep-addled brain of yours, you knew it was important.

"Yeah?"

"Indeed. It will be a weapon that will..." Veritas suddenly fell silent, alarming you. He was quick to assure you with another kiss to your hand, "Do not be so concerned, my love. Either way, this weapon will be reaching its final stages soon."

You were nearing dreamland, at this point. You recall it well.

Though the mutter under his breath was ingrained in your brain:

"An anti-planetary weapon that will, hopefully, earn Nous's blessing this time...")

The spark of recognition appears, "Oh, that one!"

"You know it," you toss her a smile. "So, what's the status? I hope the Genius Society picks up one of his inventions this time. He's been looking forward to it ever since."

You take a moment to place the paper bags on the table, setting aside your bag on one of the chairs for visitors. It's well into the afternoon, classes are finished, and by Veritas's schedule, you're sure both are famished. It's strange he's not in his office at this time. You're never late with your visits, so perhaps it's likely you're early and Veritas is late.

He's probably finishing up the last lectures of the day somewhere.

"I feel the same," Margaret knows Veritas to an extent that falls closely to yours, and it's not hard to root for him the same way you do. It warms your heart to hear how Margaret holds him in high-esteem. "Mr. Ratio's one of the best, they'd be out of the minds to not induct him into the Society—oh, are those chicken wraps?"

The chicken wraps are steaming as you tear away the aluminium foil. "Yeah, I bought it for the two of you. Want one?" Her eager nod has a laugh huff out of you, so you hand it to her. You joke, "So hungry you nearly forgot, huh?"

"Yeah... where did you buy them?"

"It's near the university. There were so many students I had to fight for it..." Thankfully, one of the vendors pitied your nearly trampled self and gave you two on the house. You make a silent note to bring Veritas there to pay your debt. "...anyways, where were we?"

Margaret pauses, "Mr. Ratio's genius?"

Well, that's not what you were saying, but it's a part of the topic. "Yes, genius. Veritas is intelligent, of course. Speaking of genius, did the Genius Society send anything?"

Margaret's reaction to your question is strange. She freezes, chicken wrap just hovering in front of her mouth. Your inquisitive gaze snaps her out of her reverie, and when getting her bearings, she's avoiding your eyes. "Nothing... yet, of course. I've been watching the mail for a week already."

A week? The Genius Society's correspondence normally would not take so long. "Is there anything else in the mail?"

"No, not really," she nods her head.

Huh? The disconnect between her body language and words makes no sense at all. However, the soft smile on Margaret's lips takes the edge of the suspicion off. Why would she lie to your face, though? Unless something's happened, then...

You decide to say something else. "I see... perhaps there's some issue with the mailing system?"

"Maybe!" Margaret agrees too easily with you. Her voice went too high-pitched, smile exaggerated, then she changes the subject, "Have you eaten on the way here? It feels impolite to be the only one eating."

The sudden mention of manners has you laugh awkwardly. It's already strange enough she's avoiding a simple question like she is right now but the poor girl looks like she's about to burst with your incessant questioning of if there's anything in the mail .

Is it really so hard to answer?

"Yes, I did," you answer. Gesturing to her chicken wrap, you say, "So, go ahead and eat. It's alright."

When you turn your gaze away from her, it's as if Margaret breathes a sigh of relief. It's obvious even in the corner of your eye. For the three years she's been here, her knowledge on Veritas's projects would be better than yours. After all, it is something work related, and she deals with his correspondence to anyone on behalf of him.

If she's lying like this, then there must be a reason. A Veritas-shaped reason, indeed, because he's got a bad habit of concealing things when it comes to something.

Letting Margaret be, you take a seat on one of the chairs meant for guests. Veritas's office is a spacious one, with a small reception area for visitors to wait on him. The door to his office is by the left, the entrance to this space on the right, and Margaret's desk in the middle of the room with the lounge chairs lined up by the wall in front of her.

With this placement, it provides you a clear view of Veritas's door... and the light escaping below it.

He's here in his office and he didn't come out to greet you.

Several emotions rise up and simmer in you. Some of them are negative. Well. Most of them are, because the way alarm and concern starts to boil within you is too much.

You take a deep breath to sort your emotions first. Your feelings are negative, and worry takes the top of the list. There are some wisps of anger but it quickly melts into the emotion up top and you slowly realise that Veritas has not messaged you even once starting... 1700 system hours ago.

With your phone now in hand, you shoot him a message.

It's something to the effect of asking where he is. The loud ding! of his own phone seeps out of his office room, out into the reception, and into Margaret and yours' ears.

Guilt colours Margaret's face vibrantly.

"I can explain," she begins as you stand up, making your way to his office. Poor girl, she's been shocked out of savouring the chicken wrap you've bought. "He's— he needs some time to himself..."

It's something other than needing time to himself, you know it, you know .

You give her a rueful smile, "Is that why you told me there's no mail?"

Margaret... falls short on an answer. The diverting of her eyes to the floor tells you everything. The successful test-firing of that anti-planetary weapon was done a few weeks ago, and everyone in the know was scrambling to cover it. It was Veritas, after all, and his name—like every genius—is known across the star systems. It'd make no sense there was no mail, no nothing , to be sent to him.

You only hold on to that tiny, little hope that you're wrong and Veritas is too caught on rejoicing to have noticed your arrival.

Only a look of understanding could be given to her. To scream, to yell, to let everything burst on Margaret is counter-productive. Maybe, if you asked, she'd say that she was merely doing what she, as an academic assistant, should do.

(If it was some other situation, you'd say—to his face—that you were right about Margaret. You'd say to him she's the best academic assistant he's ever had.)

You barely spare Margaret any glance before opening the door to his office. Thousands of thoughts trickle into your brain now, ranging from is he okay? to I hope nothing's bad happened.

Every moment of you turning the knob to open feels like in slow motion. Your heart is racing, just every inkling sending you in a worry-filled tizzy, and you feel nearly paralyzed in the spot where you are right now.

You open the door, and pity and fear and just everything drops a cold bucket over you.

Veritas sits on the chair by his desk, a crumpled letter on the wood and his headpiece discarded somewhere off to the side.

You're sure he's heard you coming in.

"Veritas?"

He absentmindedly says, "You may enter."

Veritas's voice doesn't have the usual lilt it has. It does not carry around the room, nor does it have its self-assured cadence that comes from being a genius. He stares at the scenery outside his office window, as if too entranced with the way light leaves the sky to make way for the moon. The moon that merely borrows its lumination from the sun.

The door locks behind you with a click that seems to echo in the dreadfully silent office. Now, only your footsteps make noise while approaching him. You move like you're holding your breath, not wanting to startle an animal that's already on its last legs.

But it's Veritas. He's not some lowly animal, though you know his heart to be softer than anyone else would presume.

Leaned over him, you bring his face into your hands. He lets you so readily, not once making any smart comment about handling him like porcelain.

(You received such a comment, once, when doing so the first time. Before Margaret, it was you. It was so long ago you don't recall, but Veritas had turned to you for help in handling his interactions with the "outside world", he'd call it, and this time, he was busy with a project. Some prototype he'd been originally commissioned to make, though, without any second thoughts, turned down any offer of payment and instead asked that his name be "spread across the cosmos". You originally blanched at the credits the ruler of the planet was willing to drop for Veritas's involvement in their planet-wide security, but he easily brushed your surprise off. At that moment, you were sure that, to him, it was another day of putting his gifts to use. Another day of using his intelligence to aid in the prosperity of civilizations, as if it was nothing to boast about. "Do I seem to evoke some child-like energy to hold me like this?" Veritas questioned, a quizzical brow arched. There was nothing in his tone that suggested he disliked it to the point of abhorrence. If anything, he looked— curious as to why you'd hold him like this. Instead of answering that silent question, you cooed, "Oh, yes. A little baby, indeed! You're so adorable—" "That's enough," he interrupted. You couldn't help but laugh at his disgusted face. "While I appreciate the gesture, I ask you continue sorting through the letters that came through the mail if you are wasting your time like this." "You call this wasted time? I'm suddenly not allowed to hold my handsome boy like this." Veritas's eyes narrowed. "Cease calling me a 'handsome boy', and I will consider this time to be not of the 'wasted' sort." So, he didn't hate it then. You smiled. "You like it then, Veritas?" He fell silent, you recall. His eyes bore into yours, and for a moment, it seemed like he'd say no. Then Veritas turned his head, kissed your palm, and murmured, "If it's you... then, yes.")

You wonder if he can outright acknowledge it's you who's holding him this way. He seems so out of it that what gnaws at you says no, but you try. You try for him. "Veritas?" You say, again, redirecting his attention to you. His eyes follow his head's movement, but it drags, and it's like it's taking everything out of him to begin looking at you.

Faint recognition appears on his face, and his voice softens too much, unlike the usual way he addresses you, "...My apologies for not greeting you when you came. I was absorbed in my readings of a letter the IPC sent me. An invitation of some sorts..."

When you see his eyes, the world falls silent.

Oh, Aeons, his eyes. Its lost its sheen and barely looks like he's there at all.

Your heart aches. So, that's it, then.

"What did they invite you to, love?" You ask, caressing his cheeks.

Veritas breathes as if it takes so much out of him to say, “The Intelligentsia Guild.”

“Ah,” You hum, willing the sadness away from your features. This moment is about Veritas, not you. “I see. You think I should reply to them, instead?”

The shake of Veritas’s head is slow. The hand he raises to envelop over yours is warm, yet you cannot find yourself to find comfort in it. “It is… better than nothing, love.”

The sight of Veritas blurs.

And, of course, out of everything, he notices you.

"You're crying," Veritas whispers softly. He reaches over and attempts to wipe away the tears streaming down, trying to soothe you. "Am I the cause of your tears? Then, I apologize. For... for being such a failure in front of you. Nous has not deemed me enough." You hadn't realized your eyes beginning to water; a single tear brought on a waterfall.

Aeons, you want to beat him ten times over. "You're not supposed to say sorry, Veritas. I'm... I'm only so worried about you."

Veritas meets eyes with you, and knows that it's not enough to cover the defeat. The disappointment surrounding his head like clouds, blurring every aspect of himself that he thought himself to be worthy of Nous' gaze.

He looks tired; an exhaustion that drills into his bones and something far beyond you. You think he's feeling the countless hours he's poured into that weapon, the surge of ambition and dedication used to fuel his drive, and the beginning of something chipping away at him and you don't know what.

(It scares you. It scares you because Veritas shoulders too many burdens he should have given to you to share.)

"You're the best scholar I’ve ever met, Veritas,“ You tell him, pushing past the tears that line your face. ”The smartest I’ve ever seen. Have you known your intelligence was the part of you that pulled me towards you? Your genius is unparalleled, my love. There is no one else I can think of if, ever, someone asks me about the most astute person I know.“

Does he think they are empty compliments? Because Veritas merely says, “Your words are better suited to a man whose Nous’ gaze fell upon him.”

You fall silent, defeated. What are you supposed to say? Are you to tell him that Nous does not matter, when his life is centered around knowledge? What is someone to do in this situation? What is comfort to a man who has been seared beyond recognition by an Aeon whom he worships?

“It is not hopeless,” Someone speaks, and you take a moment to recognize that it is you who has spoken. “Will you let an Aeon define who you are, Veritas?”

Veritas’s eyes slip close, and his forehead rests against yours. There is nothing but your soft sniffling, the steady breathing of your lover, and the persistent ticking of the clock in his office that sounds off. It is quiet and chilling, as if waiting for some bomb to tick off to end this moment once and for all.

His eyelids flutter, reddish-pink eyes peeking through—some brightness have returned, but not enough.

Veritas replies, “I… will try not to let them define me.”

To you, that is enough.

(You know than more that he will take this moment, and let it haunt him.)

[smolvenger]

The Child Called Sharpe (Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Blurb)

Summary: You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past.

Word Count: 1K (er...blurb or short oneshot, whatever)

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and childbirth, but nothing graphic. In this version, though I try to have a more nuanced take on Lucille, In this fic I choose to portray the Lucille/Thomas relationship as nonconsensual, pedophilic, and abusive so if you don't like that don't read this, so mentions of sexual abuse, death, illness, blood with some of the canon events of Crimson Peak. But it becomes a lot of tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: I can't please everyone with Crimson Peak on the is Lucille good or bad vrs. is Thomas good or bad discourse, so why bother trying anymore. I just wanna write my stuff. From @holdmytesseract's request!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Love for him meant creation. It brought out Thomas’s gift of invention tenfold- for love itself was creation. For the first time in his life, an act of love brought out the child’s creation. So it was natural for Thomas to spend hours inventing more for this little child on their way.

That is, his second child. For he had a child, once, and lost that child, once. 

Yes, it was a child conceived from control rather than consent…but it was still a child in need of care. A hungry baby- a human life crying for milk, and burning with fever. A child “born wrong.” A child Enola swore to fight to keep alive. 

And a child that despite everything died anyway. As did Enola. 

Despite Lucille’s cruelty, he did pity her grief for that child- For it was his grief as well.

Lucille caught ill and died not long after. He at least made sure she died comfortably. Warm beneath blankets on a soft bed. Assured her she was loved and kissed her cheek as she took her last breath.

It was complicated, his feelings about his late sister. He never could decide one thing about her. For everything was true- there was both in her. Lucille, both cruel and misunderstood, powerful and pitiful, villain and victim.

Though he never once forced himself on anyone or took advantage of a child as she did to him…

And yet…

He was still guilty of scheming, of blood, of darkness as she was. Of the invention that he wanted to be funded, that he bought at the price of three women’s lives… 

But… assaulting him when he was little? Using his innocence until when he was grown he knew no other but her? You would tell him that even if the murders were understandable, she did cross a line in that regard.

He still didn’t know if the woman who at once was his partner, his equal, his sister as well as his jailer, his predator, his molester was deserving of it. 

Or not. 

Or both.

Yet, all of that darkness and blood was now in the past. Here you were his current wife. A wife who would never take advantage of him. A wife who listened and respected when he said “no.” A wife who wouldn’t push him. Wouldn’t manipulate him. Wouldn’t control him. A wife who forgave him and saw he was now trying to do right with his life, and his choices and would be there to support him.

 Your pregnancy was poignant.  A reminder that he had a new life now- and a life that was about to expand as your stomach did each month.  A new life was about to come forth literally and figuratively for him. 

In the corner of his workshop in a special box were toys he made once. Toys were made for the first child who died. 

He never prayed, but he did now to whoever listened. For once, those toys would know being loved, being played, and for a baby’s laughter and delight and adoration. They wouldn’t rust from age, but with use. To be worn not with dust, but with love.

He brought out the box one morning and set it in the nursery of his new house. A simpler house compared to Allerdale Hall’s Majesty. Smaller and brighter, made of cherrywood and over earth rather than clay. But cheerful, the warmth bursting in every room.

The toys were cleaned and set ready in that nursery corner. You squeezed his hand after he did so.

When making sure you were comfortable, or when you slept or napped, away he would be in his workshop. He had a special toy shop now next to the house. So in his downtime, he would be found creating little toys that a child of any sex would love. A little teddy bear that twirled on top of a drum. A little cat that lifted to lick its little paw next to a puppy that wagged its tail. 

But…what else would a baby need!? His mind was reeling. It had been too long…

Of course! A place to sleep! You had insisted the old wooden rocker would work…but he still had that itching, the gears in his mind whirring faster than any clay mine.

He took a few weeks to study the designs and then set right to work. He stayed up late, rolling up his sleeves. Working on one where if you pressed a small pedal, it would rock gently, oh so gently, as to not stir a baby to more wailing, but only to sleep.

So when he discovered that Lady Sharpe’s water broke, he insisted on staying by you.

“Thomas! But…husbands don’t..don’t usually stay!” you cried. You clutched his hand as he led you to the bed.

Lucille would urge him to leave when it was time to put a cleaver into one of the wives.

For once, he would look at the blood and the bodily innards spilling from his wife and not turn away.

He shook his head, though his hand was still in yours.

“No- My dear, all of my life, I closed my eyes and ran away. I didn’t look when things happened. Not this time- after I get the midwife, I am staying with you. I will not run away for once. I’m going to stay with my wife and keep my eyes open, no matter what I see. I love you- and for once, I am not leaving.” I will not leave you alone to deal with it now.

You grabbed him and kissed his cheek. Then he ran and fetched the midwife. He held to his word and stayed.

Labor is always long. Labor is always primal. But he waited there. Squeezing your hand, cooling your head for every painful cry and push. 

Then, after the long hours, though he was a man used to blood he turned pale… Then at last there was a cry.

The midwives smiled, bringing out a little baby in their blaket. Declaring, “It’s a girl!”

You let out a smile and then a laugh of relief. Thomas kissed your hand, then looked at her. His blue eyes brimmed with tears, but for once in his life they were happy ones.

The little girl was brought out in her blanket, needing her mother’s touch- being so new to this cold world and wanting the soft embrace of knowing she was loved now that she was here.

“Look at her…look at her- our baby! Our daughter! Oh!” you cried, a mess of crying, swear, and relief—the pain of the last several hours was forgotten for the tiny baby.

“I never could imagine it,” he agreed, he pecked her tiny forehead.

Once she had settled down, you handed her over to Thomas. The warm, living bundle in his arms. Yes, her cry was loud and bright…but it only signaled that she was alive.. He had never known such joy without confinement, without limits.

The midwives and nurses were paid and thanked. They left, but though it was a long day his Daedelian mind was eager to share his gift.

As you sat in the bed after a while, Thomas got up.

“I have a gift now. For her,” he announced.

Setting you in the wheelchair for rest, he led you to the nursery. The little girl in your arms. Inside the little pastel room there was something in the middle that was tall beneath a blanket.

Thomas walked forward and slipped the blanket off. You let out a gasp.

Beneath was the cradle Thomas made. It was stunningly beautiful- a little pedal that when he stepped on it, would make it rock. Over the bed was a music box on the side that trinkled a lullabye. Stars and a crescent moon dangled were placed to spin over the babies head where she would be placed.

You gasped, seeing how ornate it was. Every bit made with love. As you got up and placed her inside, she opened her little eyes and cooed. You made a little gasp as she took in the sight- her parents and her special gift. Music, rocking, and the stars and moon to dance above her.

To think, after all he had seen, experienced, and done…that he would come to know this moment. Here it was…and he didn’t feel worthy of it.

What when she was older? His own father was a monster. And for a while, fatherhood was linked to such things…

“I only hope I shall be a good father for that little girl…” Thomas wondered..

“You already are,” you assured him. You wrapped an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek.

That night, you were set to sleep after the exhaustion of delivery and elation of the baby. Thomas offered to be there in the nursery. For she was crying through that night, as any baby. Not that she was hungry, as he found out, she just needed warmth.

He got her out of the lovely cradle and went to the rocking chair. He wanted to hold her, feel her close. Her warmth and beating heart and life. 

His most precious creation of all…and the one that would survive. He knew she would.

“I promise you, my little love…” Thomas told the baby. “You will not know of attics. Of cold and punishments. Of plotting and murders. Of blood and cruelty…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“No- you will be Protected. Wanted…and loved.”

He would do everything so that his daughter would never have to suffer as he did.

[kodamaghost00]

30 Lucifer Headcanons

———————————————————

[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw, Fluff, Smut

It's also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys!You're a new resident at the Hotel in this scenario.

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

Calls his partner “Angel” or “Love”. But will come up with outrageous names to annoy you too.

Makes his loved ones custom ducks. And he gets really nervous showing you the finished product.

“So uhhh… I made this one for you.” He said quite nervously as he gave you your duck. “Oh it’s lovely Lucifer… thank you so much.”.

He looked at you flabbergasted “Wait really?! You like it…?”. You just chuckled “Of course I do!”

You were there for him when Lilith left him. He was so down but you cheered him up.

When Lucifer and Alastor had their little sing session he was so happy that you sided with him and not that red deer guy.

He thinks it’s adorable that you get along with Charlie. He loves the way you care about her, and believe in her dreams.

Besides his “calm” personality he gets quite protective over time. When he notices you get hurt by something/someone he is immediately there you care for you.

He makes unhinged comments and jokes without even noticing that they’re out of place sometimes.

Ever since angel called him a “Short king” the term has stuck with him. He casually calls himself that as well.

He tries to learn more slang from the other residents and tries them out on you… “You serve *snaps fingers*… the outfit slaps ngl.” You just laughed your ass off due to his stiff voice and lack of feeling.

He enjoys basin and cooking a lot. He prefers to have you as a helper.

He’s a ambivert who’s pretty good at masking. Not many people notice when he’s exhausted.

Definitely a hopeless romantic. He WILL take you on a date with roses and jazz in the background. And if everything goes well he maybe even take you to his place?

He likes to get dominated but he also loves to dominate. Whatever you’re up to actually, he’ll just go along with it.

Groans overall but whimpers and whines when he’s close.

When you ride on top of him he digs his fingers into your sides and it gets firmer and stronger as he finishes.

He is definitely very weak in the way that he can’t hold in for long. You do one right move and he’s cumming fast.

He also enjoys bondage very much. He’d fuck you while you hand from the roof with a gag in your mouth. In combo with a blindfold? Seeing you drool? He finishes faster than you can say “Bow chika bow bow.”

GREAT IN AFTERCARE!!! He will spoil you with sweet words and cuddles. “You did so great love… thank you.”

He bathed with his rubber duck. His favorite is probably an apple themed one.

He also wears a little make-up. Like going out without a little eyeliner? Nuh uh.

He made his cane himself. The apple on top is exchangeable with a Rubber duck, skull and a snake. He’s making new ones as well.

He is already autistic coded with a special interest in ducks. But imagine he invented them. Like imagine he said ”Hey God… I have this little idea, do you think you can make it work?”

He gets nervous if you two make eye contact for too long. He’d laugh it off though saying it’s no big deal for him.

So so done with life sometimes he just drinks 3 black coffees in the span of 3 hours.

He easily gets distracted by literally anything and everything. Also procrastinates a lot.

He loves hugs from the back. And hugs in general make him feel so loved by you.

His love languages are Physical Touch and Acts of Service. You making him breakfast and cuddles afterwards? He’s straight up in love.

“You made this all for me love…? Wow that’s so amazing thank you so so much…” he gets stressed easily so seeing how much you care for him makes him tear up.

———————————————————

MASTERLIST

Thank you all so much for reading my silly headcanons [And also 20 followers]! I wanted to say “Loves Eskimo kisses” but I remembered he doesn’t rlly have a nose (πーπ). But yeah anyways… if you have requests don’t be shy and ask! I’d be happy to work on requests! Have a great day/night!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ