#but God is it soul crushing and miserable

[alynnl]

What do you do when you need to work to live, but your job stresses you out so much that you feel exhausted and unable to relax?

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[ratspider]

loooove that the moment i try to reconnect with a friend i thought i'd lost i discover i really *had* lost them and in fact they hate me now because of something i didn't even fucking do

[signedkoko]

Hi hi! I want to request a gn reader who is the closest thing Alastor has to a best friend, right hand man type feel. Like Reader is a sinner and had to make a deal with Al for their soul, but Reader is so honest when they talk and act that Al is all "they aren't so bad." Alastor calls on the Reader first almost everytime and Reader is like, "This is the least worst situation. Let's not screw it up" as they throw their all into whatever Al needed them to do. So when Alastor tells them to get a job with Vox to spy on him, there's a groan, then a fine.

Sorry if it's a bit jumbled, I had a thought and ran with it. Also, could I be 🗑anon

Alastor X Reader [Platonic]

In which you are the only person Alastor might consider a best friend. Reader is genderneutral.

While you'd sold your soul to the demon a long time ago, you certainly had perks that most others under his control did not

In fact, you didn't even act as if Alastor 'owned' you; you did your own thing and respected his wishes as best you could, and Alastor just never seemed to mind

Perhaps that was a front; no one was certain; all they could tell was that Alastor certainly favoured you

Anytime an issue arose and he was busy, he would leave you in his place, and by god, you never did disappoint

Actually, most people prefer it when it's you; you are far less worrisome to be around and a lot less mysterious about things

The only thing you didn't talk about was yours and Alastors history

Whether that was part of some binding agreement or you were just scary good at diverting the topic whenever it came to what you did in the past

Typically, Alastor's duties for you include watching over his other souls, going to the tailors, or doing 'whatever Charlie asks of you!'

Otherwise, you'd be at his side, usually the two of you watching the rest and making bantering commentary about the hopelessness of the people in the hotel

Unfortunately, being so close meant that Alastor really trusted you with difficult tasks

Were you capable? Absolutely!

But did you want to? No.

Because he tells you so much, he probably goes to great lengths to make sure you aren't accidentally 'letting things out'

Which means no technology when working with him

You found that out the hard way

" Oh yes! Do you have a phone I could borrow? "

" Uhh - yeah, sure. Here. "

He crushes the device instantly

" What the fuck. "

The one thing about you is that you prefer the easy way out, and as Alastor puts it, you have hidden talent that you are 'too lazy to use', but you couldn't care less

You'd do anything he asks, both because he is your friend and because you technically have to, according to your soul binding

But you will be grumpy about it the entire time

Being so close with Alastor means you also hate Vox by proxy, so any mission involving him is just miserable

Fortunately, Vox doesn't know you, though, so you really were Alastor's best bet when he wants a spy on the inside

" Do I have to? "

" Of course you do, deary! Now pick up that smile and get marching! "

Author's Note - He is such a menace to his friends, I love writing for platonic Alastor. Thank you so much for requesting, and welcome to the blog, bin anon!

[thatdeadaquarius]

imagine if reader is given an ancient scripture from around the time humanity founded out how to write and do the alphabet (somehow it was preserved so well that you can still see the words with no issue)

and it's the most heart wrenching, soul crushing, tear inducing, hyperventilating, sanity disappearing angst, misunderstandings, hurt/no comfort, it gets worse but never better, major character death, unrequited love story to have ever existed in teyvat.

and after reader goes through the whole thing, they can barely talk or breathe properly with how much they're crying.

(even better, it was smut not angst and reader is staring ar the scripture, jaw dropped to the floor with shaking hands.)

STOP- I avoid fanfics like that at all costs 😭 id stop reading it after the first angsty event LMAO

Im like... too emotionally affected by fanfics, esp angst ones 💀

Its just, ppl who write closer to my generation or just very psychologically honestly, are like fucking deadly writers. Got my day ruined and shit w/just fanfics 😭

LMAO THE GIF IS JUST YOU ON THE SPOT NOT EVEN HALFWAY THRU-

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Short! Headcanons-ish

Stars: my first of the Fontians!! Fontainianes? Fontainains?? u get it

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: sobbing, discussion of vague smut/NSFW book at the end, okay for Teen/Mature audiences, & Trigger Warnings: none known.

no but it’d be hilarious if u got this crazy like hand-width deep tablet for each “page” of the book, like how every novel or info in genshin is like one page at a time 😭

Sumeru and other international academics are literally constantly harassing politely requesting your translation of these and sending them to you in whichever country you’re visiting at the moment

Fontaine was even more complex and pretty in real life than it could ever be in game and i can def see you at like Neuvillette’s office or a nice french fontaine cafe and just WHAM

huge ass tablet bc as much as the fic tortures you, you have to know what the fuck happens to these miserable idiots

Neuvillette, Clorinde, and Lynette are all the type to immediately try and dissuade you from reading it again, bc from their point of view you just pull out this huge old rock and start sobbing quietly about 10 mins into the read every time 😭😭

(unsurprisingly, Neuvillette would even go so far as to get the Marechaussee Phantom to sneakily steal ur most recent tablets of the story to hide them, which sucks for you LMAO)

Freminet, Wriothesley, Navia, Lyney, and Furina,all frantically try to distract you, and also theyre in order of who would be the most dramatic w/it lmao

NO BC I JUST HAD THE THOUGHT-

Ur tears absolutely are top priority to Neuvillette and Furina so when they inevitably find the memories in them (and the traveler too maybe)

of what the story is about, except its like all the feelings and stuff, so like its the best “translation” they get of the book so far, u best believe it rains for a week straight

it started out as a light drizzle, but as Neuvillette “read on” in ur tear’s memories if got worse HAHA

mans is out here trying to convince himself like, “this is a classic tragedy from eons ago, its about a human romance, im definitely unaffected, though im glad i could figure out what ails My Majesty so”

meanwhile the story gets worse and its just like that meme “ohHHhhhHH its got a little kiicckkk”

Neuvillette nearly floods the streets by chapter 5 when the miscommunication happens and then they cant get in contact with each other to fix it lmao

LMAO I JUST HAD A VISIONNN

ur in fontaine and while yes drinks were popular (like obv fonta)

business is rlly booming bc now everyone you know (like the Vision-users or archons Neuvill, etc) all have develop this habit of having a water bottle or drink on them to offer you when u start reading to rehydrate you 😭😭😭

Navia, Clorinde, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Lyney, Lynette all have a handkerchief on them at all times too 😭😭

Good God-

the moment you translate the now instant Shakespearean-level tragedy classic, it is a known tear-jerker thruout all of Teyvat,

like theres trigger warnings and age limits and shit 💀

◇

on another note,

if its smut,

ur desperately combing thru all the tablets and wall carvings and cave paintings to try and lowkey cover it up LMAO

and its not like a story with a smut scene either, its like what anon said,

just fully like the ao3 tag “Porn What Plot/Porn With Plot”

STOP

not u yanking the tablets out of Neuvillette’s hands when he curiously picks them up one time lmao

(he is now invested in getting these translated too bc of ur reaction lol)

☆

consider supporting me with an iced coffee? :0

Spooky Season! Spooky Season!! Spooky Season!!!

still not dead btw

just got hired at my new job so ive been training and busy!! :)

im a host at Olive Garden lol its weird and kinda hard, my feet hurt a lot and i havent had a full shift yet ;-; its a brand new one so it opens the 23rd

dw that eldritch one shot is still coming btw, just talking with betas and editing it now lol

hope if you read this you have a great upcoming weekend!!

Safe Travels Anon,

💀♒

☆

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657

[thechaoticdruid]

[Firsts] (1/2)

Pairing: Astarion x Named F!Tav

Plot: Astarion's been acting way too flirty lately. Seriously it was starting to weird Winnie out. She knew the man flirted with pretty much everyone in the group, but lately since she'd given him a taste of her blood it seemed much more targeted at her and very aggressive. Could he actually be attracted to her? Pfft! No way!

Content/Warnings: Sexual themes, sexual humor, light smut, no actual sex yet, making out, dry humping, groping, violence, blood, death, Winnie has very low self esteem, Astarion being a perv, Virgin MC, Astarion bullies Gale, Gale has one sided crush on MC, oblivious MC, Astarion being Astarion, body issues.

Second part: [2/2]

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Things had kinda been weird for Winnie ever since she'd discovered one of her companions was a vampire. Astarion had always been rather flirtatious with the members of their merry band of weirdos, but now it was different. Ever since he'd gotten a taste of her blood his flirtations seem much more targeted towards her. 

Winnie would most often brush them aside. It didn't mean anything after all. Either Astarion was just a naturally flirty person or he wanted to butter her up so she'd be more likely to let him have more of her blood. The female druid was certain these flirtations weren't anything serious. 

Men like Astarion did not pursue women like Winnie. The human female wasn't exactly sure anyone would ever pursue her, but it definitely wouldn't be someone as breathtakingly beautiful as the pale elf. 

Winnie glanced around the blighted village before pushing through the door of an old abandoned house as she began to remember something one of the elder druids in her circle said when she was a child. “She's nothing but a weed amongst the flowers.” The old bitch had said.  Winnie rolled her eyes with a sigh as the others scouted the area.

“This looks like a suitable place to make camp.” Gale stated, looking around.

“It'll serve.” Lae'zel added and dropped her pack on the ground near an old fireplace. 

“It'll be nice to at least have a roof over our heads for once.” Shadowheart chimed in as she walked over and glanced over an arrangement of books that littered one of the walls. 

“Pft, if you can even call it that! This hovel is practically crumbling!” Astarion exclaimed.

“If you'd prefer to sleep elsewhere, be my guest.” Winnie replied before setting her own things down.

Wyll looked over the fireplace and checked around the house for any fire wood, but unfortunately there didn't appear to be any in sight. 

“We might want to go find some wood to build a fire before nightfall.” He suggested.

“I can do that.” Winnie stood up, “I'll see if there's anything else we can scavenge nearby.” 

“I'll go with you. It would only be the gentlemanly thing to do, accompanying a lady.” Gale piped up.

“Yeah sure, come if you want.” Winnie shrugged before turning and leaving the ruined house.

Gale followed after her before the two were also accompanied by Astarion.

“I’m coming too.” He said, sauntering up behind Winnie. 

“I'm surprised Astarion. I didn't think manual labor was your forte, nor yours either Gale.” The druid female hummed.

“Well I'm not about to let you go and do all the work alone!” The wizard added.

“And I never said I was going to help, watch Gale fail miserably to impress you perhaps, but I am certainly not going to risk damaging these nails for firewood.” Astarion sassed looking over his pointed vampire spawn claws with a pout.

Winnie rolled her eyes, ”good gods, might as well have let me go alone.” The druid female muttered, walking off ahead of the two men. Her eyes scanned the blighted village. The place was crawling with goblins and even though they let the party pass through on the count of them being ‘True Souls’ Winnie wasn't very convinced that they would be friendly enough to offer her group supplies. 

Her and the boys continued to search about, Astarion seeming all too pleased to give Gale a hard time today. Eventually after passing a large gate and strolling towards the edge of the ruined village the three adventures came across a shed.

Winnie stepped towards it, immediately coming to a halt as she began to hear low grunts and moans coming from the other side of the door.

“Oh dear….” Gale exclaimed, a look of horror adorning his bearded face.

“Do I even want to know…?” Winnie turned pale with disgust.

“I do! Sounds absolutely disgusting heh heh heh..”Astarion chuckled with a mischievous glint in his crimson red eyes. 

“You want to take a peek be my guest, but don't expect me to rush in after you.” Winnie rolled her eyes looking back at Astarion. 

“And here I thought you'd be interested in joining the fun, darling.” Astarion gave Winnie a wink before swinging the door open, a giddy shit eating grin spreading across the pale elf's face. 

“Oh gods….” Winnie gasped as she and Gale looked forward seeing a bugbear and a lady ogre in the ahem doggy style position. The two humans' faces were filled with horror and disgust while Astarion still had that same stupid grin on his face.

“WHAT THE HELLS ARE YOU DOING!?” The bugbear screamed as he pulled away from his lover. 

“Uh…. I'm very sorry! W-We were just leaving!” Winnie said nervously, face turning red in embarrassment.

“You two make a lovely couple by the way!” Gale said, trying to deflect any tension, but the two lovers did not seem to appreciate the compliment.

“Kinky.” Astarion clicked his tongue with a smirk. 

“MOMENT RUINED! I SMASH YOU!” The ogre suddenly pulled out a huge club and slammed it down right in Winnie's direction. Luckily the druid was able to leap back just in the nick of time. 

The bugbear began to charge in her direction only to receive an arrow to his shoulder, swiftly shot by Astarion who’d quickly climbed atop some nearby crates.  Winnie quickly unsheathed her scimitars from her back, rushing the bugbear and slashing him across the chest.  The she-ogre growled and took another swing at Winnie, prompting Gale to cast magic missile hitting both the ogre and bugbear. 

The bugbear let out a loud scream of pain before dropping down onto the ground.

“NO GRUKKOH!!!” The ogre shouted, tears welling up in her eyes before she glared at Gale with pure hate and rage. “YOU WILL DIE!!!!” 

Quickly before she can move to smite Gale with her club Astarion is quick to notch an arrow and fire it, hitting the ogre right in the left eye. Gale hits her with a bolt of lightning before Winnie makes a dash to run behind her. She then turns and uses her druidic magic to summon a vine from her hand and lasso the ogre’s leg, yanking on it hard. The beastly female tumbled back letting out a cry as she fell to the ground. 

Winnie then took the opportunity to leap up on top of her and slam her scimitars right down into the ogre’s chest, piercing her heart. Blood splattered upon the druid as she pulled her blades out of the she-beast’s chest, getting on her face and shoulders. She panted and hopped down off the large corpse. Astarion's ears turned a bit pink as he glanced over at the blood drenched female.  Honestly he had to admit…..That was kind of hot…

“A pity we had to put an end to the two lovers.” Gale spoke up.

“Better them than me.” Winnie said wiping a bit of blood off her face.

“Darling, hold on a moment. Allow me to help.” Astarion said, quickly rushing over to where the human female stood. Her strange fushia colored eyes looked back at him with curiosity. The vampire ran his thumb over her cheek, collecting a bit of blood before all too eagerly sucking it off his digit. His thumb pulled out of his mouth with a wet pop. “That was a very….enticing display you know?~” He purred seductively in her ear just quiet enough for Gale not to hear. 

“Uh…Thanks…” Winnie looked off to the side checks turning bright red. 

“Ahem! Well shouldn't we return to work? The sun’s nearly gone and we have yet to find some firewood!” Gale piped up, trying to change the subject before stepping in between the rogue and druid.

“Actually darling, I think our dear druid should probably take a rest. She did most of the fighting after all.” Astarion put his hand on Gale’s shoulder.  “And offering to get the firewood for her would definitely be the gentlemanly thing to do.” 

“You're not going to offer to help me are you?” Gale rose an eyebrow.

“Oh gods no! My dear wizard, you can't expect me to leave this sweet little thing all by herself?” Astarion said before moving piece of Winnie’s messy brown locks out of her face.

“I'm perfectly fine guys….I can actually just go get the wood by myself….” Winnie said feeling Astarion's hungry eyes leering at her. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. Why was he being so aggressive with his flirting today?

Winnie wasn't exactly too worn out, but at the same time she really didn't feel like feeding this overgrown mosquito tonight. Partially because she had been getting devoured by actual mosquitoes left and right since they’d wondering the wilderness. 

“I'm not sure if it's wise to leave a lamb alone with a wolf.” Gale gave Astarion a suspicious glare. 

“Hey! If anyone’s a wolf it's me!” Winnie pouted and crossed her arms. She was rather offended Gale didn't seem to acknowledge her most used wildshape.

“A wolf and a panther then.” Gale said.

“How dare you! I would never lay a finger on our darling leader!” Astarion crossed his arms.

“Okay, I think we've wasted enough time already.” Winnie said before wild-shaping into a black bear and wandering off to collect the wood herself.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~• 

Later that evening after Winnie had brought back the firewood she shifted back into her human form and hid herself away from the others, making herself comfortable in what was left of the ruined house’s bedroom.  She glanced up at the mirror beside her, studying her face. Dark circles colored underneath her eyes, left by sleepless nights. Messy brown locks that never behaved no matter what she did.  A scarred lip from her first real battle. And her body oh how she despised it. It was far too plump for her tastes.

"Nothing but a weed amongst the flowers."

“Why would anyone ever fall in love with you? You're disgusting!”

“Just as fat as a deep rothé and twice as ugly!”

“She's definitely gonna die alone.”

Winnie’s brows knitted together before she stood up and slammed the mirror into the wall, shattering it into a million tiny pieces. She breathed in and out, taking a moment to process what she had just done. The young druid honestly had no idea what had come over her. Why were these tormentful thoughts all coming back now?

Surely there were better things to be thinking about!? The disgusting parasite in her brain for one! She needed to get it together, or risk turning into something much more grotesque.

Winnie needed to get some air. She left the house through the back entrance and stepped off into the nearby forest, breathing in and out slowly. She closed her eyes and just took a moment to listen to all the soothing sounds of nature. Frogs croaking, crickets chirping, an owl hooting above the trees and footsteps…

Wait, footsteps!?

Winnie quickly turned around, her hand reaching into her pack for a blade when she noticed a familiar pair of red eyes looking back at her.

“I was hoping I'd finally be able to get you alone.~” 

“Astarion? Look, I'm really not in the mood to give you blood tonight. Maybe tomorrow?” Winnie sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.

“Oh, I'm not here for that darling. I'm here for you.” Astarion approached, eyes looking her up and down as his perfect pretty lips formed a painfully fake looking smile.

“You need my help with something?” Winnie tilted her head in confusion.

“In a manner of speaking. I've grown rather attached to you if I'm honest.” Astarion placed a hand on his hip.

“Ah, well that's sweet of you to say. I'm really glad to have made some friends on this journey.” Winnie said with a smile. 

“Oh my sweet. I'm not talking about friendship. I'm talking about desire.~” Astarion leaned a bit closer. His breath hit Winnie’s face as he slightly towered over the short female.

“I…. Don't follow….” Winnie said awkwardly. Astarion blinked and then proceeded to pinch the bride of his nose.

“Oh for gods sake. SEX. Darling, I'm talking about sex.” Astarion said with annoyance, crossing his arms. Winnie’s face turned bright red as he finally spelled it out.  It finally explained why he seemed so aggressive with his flirting lately. But at the same time Winnie just couldn't believe Astarion was actually making a pass at her. Her of all people!

“You're joking, right?” Winnie chuckled nervously.

“Why would I be?” Astarion gave her a confused look.

“Wouldn't you rather spend a night with one of the others? Lae'zel or Shadowheart? Or maybe even Wyll?” Winnie asked.

“Ha! Please. As if I'd waste my time with one of them! I have standards, dear.” Astarion said sassily.

“I'm just…You have seen me right?” Winnie said, looking away shyly. Astarion couldn't help but frown for a moment. Winnie seemed very....well insecure. It was clear she didn't seem to believe he could in any way find her attractive. He was however quick to resume his flirty persona.

“Indeed, I have and I find you to be rather delectable looking.~” 

“Yeah, yeah stop messing with me, okay. It's not funny.” Winnie rolled her eyes and turned to leave. Astarion internally panicked. Fuck. He couldn't let her leave. It would completely ruin his plans! 

“I'm not! I crave you!” Astarion quickly grabbed hold of her and pinned her to a tree. Winnie let out a grunt before looking up and blushing darkly.

“I want to feel you squirm under me.~” He said huskily. Winnie was at a complete loss for words. What the hells was she even supposed to fucking say to that!? Her heart was pounding so fast and she honestly felt like if he said one more word she'd faint right there. “And I know you want me too.~ I've seen how you look at me. How your heart races when I'm near. And don't think I haven't noticed the little lustful glances you give my backside you naughty thing!~”

“I-I-I…OKAY YOU'VE MADE YOUR POINT!” Winnie said, and pushed against him, making him back up.  She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take before she suddenly melted into a puddle. Winnie was not used to this kind of attention at all. “Sorry I just…I'm not used to this…” Winnie said, a bit embarrassed, “feel like I'm going to explode…Heheh…”

“Cute.” Astarion smirked at Winnie’s nervousness.

“I've never been with anyone if I'm honest….Hells I’ve never even been kissed.” Winnie looked down, honestly feeling rather ashamed.

Oh gods, why did you say that!? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! 

Astarion then gently took her hand, “I would be happy to teach you.” He said before planting a soft kiss on her hand. Winnie took a deep breath, nervousness filled her belly. She looked into his eyes and nodded, “okay.” 

Astarion cupped her cheek, his crimson red eyes staring into her pink ones as he rubbed a cold thumb over her cheek.  Winnie closed her eyes and puckered her lips, slowly anticipating for him to make the next move.  She felt his breath hit her face before his soft lips met her own. At first it was sweet and innocent, nothing but a chaste little peck. But then he pushed her back up against the tree and pressed his body against hers. Winnie gasped feeling Astarion grind himself against her, allowing him to snake his tongue into her mouth deeping their kiss. His free hand reached down to cup one of her ass cheeks, giving it a firm squeeze through her pants. 

“Mmmm!” Winnie moaned into his mouth, her arms slowly finding their way around his neck as she squirmed. She could feel a hard growing bulge prod her core as he pushed his hips against her own. His tongue swirled around her own, exploring and dominating her mouth, but eventually she was forced to pull back for air.  A string of saliva connected their mouths as they pulled back. Winnie panted, staring back at the vampire who was seductively licking his lips. One of his hands was still groping her ass. 

“A-Ah!~” The brunette haired druid let out a whimper as the elf pressed his clothed cock into her. 

“You make such adorable sounds, darling.” He purred before planting another kiss on her lips. Winnie quickly returned it before Astarion began to move down her jaw, trailing kisses lower. 

His tongue lapped over her neck before he quickly began to suck on the delicate skin eagerly.

He kept one hand on her ass while the other reached up to undo her the buttons of her shirt.

Winnie bit her lip as she felt the cool air hit her breasts, her nipples hardening quick.  

Astarion smirked, his eyes hungrily eyeing her well endowed assets. Who knew she could fit something so big under her shirt? If he'd known they were this large he'd have bedded her sooner. Astarion licked his lips before leaning in to plant a kiss on top of one of her breasts. Unfortunately before his mouth could make contact with her skin he ended up being rudely interrupted. 

“There you two are-” Gale's voice trailed off, his face turned bright red.

“Is everything okay….Oh….” Wyll’s eyes widened as he peaked out from behind Gale.

“What is it? Did something happen!? Oh well that's interesting…” Shadowheart said, appearing behind Wyll. 

“Chk! As expected. It was only a matter of time.” Lae'zel seemed completely unfazed as she stood beside Shadowheart.

“Ooh Winnie! Get it!” Karlach cheered, jumping out from behind the others, tail wagging with excitement.

“Do you fucking mind!?” Astarion hissed and pulled back, glaring at the others as Winnie quickly turned away and buttoned up her shirt.  This was so fucking embarrassing! Her pink eyes quickly scanned the area for a hole to crawl inside.

“And here I was worried you were planning on eating our dear friend. Although I suppose I'm technically not wrong….” Gale hummed.

To be continued………

Note From TheChaoticDruid: Just gonna say, the last part was inspired by an infamous Dragon Age Inquisition scene. XD And I was going to try to fit both parts into one, but it just got so long that I decided to cut it in half.

[0v3rcast]

Gnaw: Grudge Match

For the first time, the Archon War and its ending are subject to a second opinion.

(And that opinion is yours.)

Osial banks across the stormy sky, feathers of his right wing dipping into the clouds above, water and wind forming beads against his wingtips that follow him as he dips back down. You lend him your energy, and Electro arcs across the vast plumage of his wings and pools inside the beads.

He flaps his wing. A single storm bead rockets down from the sky.

Fishing boats and trading ships are reduced to soaked splinters and fractured metal. The remains of sails, now naught but tatters, writhe in the wind before falling into the sea.

Those who do not die from the sheer enormity of the impact drown in the harbor, bleed out from shrapnel of their own ships, or meet their end at the hands of your contributed Electro energy.

Within fifteen seconds, the harbor has been reduced to a graveyard, the ruined husks of an entire fleet now skeletons lying in deathless slumber on the seabed.

Osial laughs, wild and untamed, just this side of lost to mania, and he dives, his wings glimmering with Anemo.

The Golden House didn't really stand much of a chance.

Electrically-charged Mora are funneled en masse into the vortex above, glinting gold with lightning tails flowing up into the sky in chaotic patterns. Some magnetize against each other, some fly alone, others ricochet into the sea or embed themselves into the land.

Several unlucky souls are punched cleanly through by the symbol of their nation's prosperity, leaving gaping holes in their flesh and ruined bones.

Their screams, warped by the wind and rain and the song of thunder, are a beautiful chorus to you. A performance to welcome you home and give warning to those who foolishly stand against you.

Thunder roars, deafening, and lightning falls, piercing Millelith members. Rain weighs them down, wind steals their breath, and the wind chill robs even the most hale and hearty of a steady aim.

Osial flicks out another storm bead. Several buildings are blasted apart, their rubble crushing their neighbors, metal and stone and wood making a cacophony of ruin.

Entire lives are being uprooted. Centuries of tradition are vanishing under the onslaught. The work of thousands of human lives simply vanishes as it topples into the bay, the waves hungrily lapping at the base of the city and greedily swallowing all that cannot escape.

A small smile stretches over your face.

They deserve this.

With a flick of your wrist, the remaining Mora cluster together into a single massive ball, and you will it towards the wreckage of the city with a little mental exertion.

It crashes down into the heart of the city, right where Rex Lapis once died, and it then erupts as all the force keeping it together simply ceases to do so.

Golden coins and human gore scatter in every direction as fleeing civilians are reduced to mulch by this world's most ostentatious fragmentation explosive.

Osial howls in glee, currents of vicious wind tearing humans from the streets and into his waiting maw as he dives again and again.

In the distance, there is a roar.

The earth shakes to its foundations as immense stone pillars rip free, aimed for Osial, their normally flat tops ground to geometrically perfect diamond spearpoints.

"Morax," Osial sneers. "Come to watch your miserable excuse for a city die under my wings?"

The being that appears then is not Zhongli, or even Rex Lapis. It is Morax. An ancient dragon, Archon of Geo. The God of Contracts and War. This is no simple serpent, no puppet meant to be majestic and awe-inspiring - this is the war-form. The true face of a draconic god, plated in metals hewn from the heart of the world, innards glowing with yellow-orange energy.

This Morax is the face of death.

Morax roars in wordless fury at his old foe... but then his eyes catch sight of you.

The roar becomes deafening, full of such hatred and vitriol that Osial briefly forgets to fly from surprise, leading him to dive instead.

On some cruel instinct, you give Morax the smuggest, most shit-eating grin you can conjure, and you mouth 'where were you when they needed you?'

If looks could kill, Morax would have just reduced you to subatomic particles.

You gesture to Osial, your gift helping to subtly translate, and he launches up into the storm and the highest points of the atmosphere.

Morax follows, howling threats in a language you don't know.

(The elements lean forward in their seats. You've just invited them to the best fight this eon. Bets are already being made. Geo and Anemo both grin at the other, eager to see whose champion is superior.)

Meteors fall, carved apart by wind.

Voices carry for thousands of miles, roaring in pain and glee and fury.

Bones shatter, scales are torn apart, wounds ooze blood in quantities enough to bathe Liyue in a red rain... and Gods war.

On the ground, the storm has only increased in strength, now that so much more energy is being poured into the area.

Not helping is the hail of immense stone pieces.

Where godly blood lands, life is burnt away by the acidic touch of divinity.

Those who did not flee before can flee no longer without risking swift, painful death.

(Ganyu weeps, the work of thousands of years falling apart in less than five hours. What use were her labors?)

(Ningguang vanishes into a bunker beneath the stone, where she can wait out this chaos. She will build herself back up. This is simply a setback.)

(Hu Tao watches from a distant field as her home is utterly destroyed.

...some morbid little part of her gleefully remarks that business is about to be skyrocketing.)

(Shenhe is unaware of this happening, having been spirited away into Cloud Retainer's realm the moment said Adeptus realized just who had been given a burial at sea.)

(Yanfei is luckily out of the country right now, instead in Fontaine to deal with a reappearing case she'd long thought solved.)

(Xinyan assists in evacuation efforts, her flames burning away godsblood and rain to shelter those nearby.)

(Chongyun and Xingqiu barely manage to stem the tide of raging Hilichurls that are dead set on killing the escaping civilians.)

(Kequing lies in the collapsed rubble of a multi-story building, her Vision repeatedly shocking her as Electro takes the moment to be immensely petty.)

(Xiao drowns in his Karmic Debt, feathers trying to force their way through his skin as his more animalistic instincts refuse to obey.)

(Baizhu has already fled, knowing that he neither can be nor wishes to be of use in this fight. His work is not yet done.)

(Yaoyao stands guard over the population who have made it to her home village.)

(Yun Jin helps to gather scattered families back together amongst the crowds of refugees. Xiangling and her father work to feed the masses while they are all displaced.)

(Beidou watches the storm from the far horizon on the deck of the Alcor. Going in would be suicide, but not helping is just as unthinkable. She must choose, but the sheer weight of the choice is paralyzing. The fleet follows behind her, whether that is into certain death or into retreat.)

(Qiqi stands in the heaviest torrents of the storm. Where the blood of gods stains her skin, life is breathed back into dead flesh.))

Far above in the heavens, Osial and Zhongli are tangled, claws gouging into the new Anemo Archon's innards as coils attempt to shatter the Geo Archon's ancient spine.

There is a deafening crack as Morax's spine bends in a way it was never supposed to.

Ribbons of intestine hang from the massive wound in Osial's underbelly.

Both of them begin to fall to the face of Teyvat tens of thousands of miles below, and you are along for the ride.

Osial lets out a wheezy cackle as he tightens his grip on Morax, drowning in his own blood.

Morax writhes, wings unresponsive.

You hug yourself against Osial. Impact comes far sooner than you expected.

There is darkness.

When you wake, you are in the shallows of an immense crater, exactly where Liyue Harbor should have been. The moon glows pale white above you.

Shattered pillars and ruined buildings jut from the not-quite-bay.

Sitting next to you is a not-very-undead Qiqi. She gives you a relieved look when she sees you're alive. You offer her a thumbs up, as though that will solve the issue.

She accepts it with as much grace as anyone in her situation can and returns the thumbs up, smiling at you faintly.

Beneath you is Osial, dying from mortal wounds but still very alive. Somewhere in the distance is a similarly wounded Morax.

You climb down from your dying companion and come to face him.

"Ah... good. You still live. I did not fail you," Osial gurgles. "Thank you... for helping me settle the score, my maker."

You tell him to hold on. You're sure there's something you can do to heal him. He lets out an amused huff.

"Your kindness is touching, but I know my end is coming. I can feel the Abyss."

You refuse. Osial is yours, damn it. Your friend. Your first Archon. Your protector.

A feeling wells up inside of you.

He will not die. You won't allow it.

Your eyes burn as tears stream down your face. You rest a hand against his scaly face, and ask him to trust you one more time.

"Of course. Always."

You let your power flow. The world erupts into starlight as a new constellation is born, sky adorned with a new pattern of stars: Serpens Fidelis.

The loyal serpent.

Where once laid your dying companion is now a male of mortal human size, who sits up, obviously quite discombobulated. He manages to find his feet, though repeatedly stumbles as he takes his first steps.

Scarred tan skin faintly reflects the moonlight, bathing him in an ethereal glow. Silver locks of hair with deep blue accents seem to drink in the moonlight.

He turns to you, finally, and grins, canine teeth closer to fangs than human, Cherenkov blue eyes glimmering with undeniable joy.

"Thank you, my maker. This new form is far less damaged."

From his right hip dangles a Hydro vision. The Anemo Gnosis is in your hands instead. It appears the cost for his life was you reclaiming the archonhood you bestowed upon him.

He is otherwise entirely nude and doesn't particularly seem to notice this. Maybe that's because he's never had to wear clothes before.

You kindly point this out to him, more than a little embarrassed on his behalf, your hands over Qiqi's eyes so she doesn't see.

Holy shit, was he always that built?

He grins at you, shooting you a salacious wink. "Yes, yes. Get an eyeful of my statuesque physique. I worked for many years on it."

You ask how he managed that as best you can while dying of embarrassment.

"You become quite proficient at lifting weights and swimming at the same time while trying to struggle free of stone javelins pinning you to the seafloor," he says mildly.

He manipulates the water and stormclouds into a set of luxurious robes. A sash at his waist now holds the Hydro vision.

On his back rests a fragment of the Jade Chamber carved into a massive greatsword.

"Shall we gloat over our dying adversary together, my maker?"

Yes, this sounds like a phenomenal idea.

You let Qiqi go, now that Osial is not running a one-hydra nudist colony, and she follows behind the two of you like a lost puppy.

Morax has returned to the form of Zhongli by the time you get to him.

The Vortex Vanquisher lies shattered at his side, and hundreds of rips and tears in his clothes display his grievous wounds.

Osial confidently struts over.

"Why hello, hated enemy mine~"

Zhongli weakly snarls up at him, and also at you, his fists curling feebly at his sides.

"Damn you both. May the Creator strike you both down into the depths of the Abyss."

Osial lets out a small 'snrk', begins to lowly chuckle, and slowly escalates to peals of howling, gleeful laughter. Zhongli just looks offended while Osial laughs himself nearly sick.

"By the maker, you have no idea who you're talking to right now, do you?" He wheezes, tears in his eyes, clutching at his sides.

"The destroyer of my people and an abomination wearing the skin of the Creator of All." Zhongli fires back, indignant. "Are you blind?"

"Go ahead and pray for our maker to save you. See what happens," Osial says, grinning cruelly.

Zhongli murmurs a prayer for protection from evil.

A faint glimmer of magical energy escapes his lips and swirls just above your hands. You cringe at it and wave it away like it's smoke.

Zhongli goes ghost-white, his eyes becoming impossibly wide.

"Creator?"

Tears bead at the corners of his eyes as his actions finally begin to play back in his mind.

"Please, my maker, forgive m-"

Osial cuts off his head.

"What an asshole," he snickers, some blood now on his cheek, a massive grin on his face. "I'm glad he's dead."

You just look at him like he's crazy. Which he probably is.

"Oooooooooohhhh, that's who you are." Qiqi says from behind you, having caught on to your true identity.

Another massive hydra erupts from the ocean in the distance and lets out a sound akin to whalesong.

"HI, HONEY!" Osial yells in her direction before immediately bolting towards her.

You let out a distressed sigh. Exactly what kind of mess have you just gotten into?

(Taglist:

@the-dumber-scaramouche @thatdeadaquarius @ssak-i @imyme20 @fried-lotud @acacla @itz-luna @iruiji @crierofirony @itsredactedlove @sweetsthetik @leafanonsforest @oxyotl @kkazuyass @featuredtofu @resident-cryptid @d4y-dr3am3r @crimson-ashes @red1sg0n3 @the-real-fandom-person @code-roevember @yourlocalsourwolf @rhoswen-drake @minimari415 @reversearrowhead @call-me-shroom @evqnescents @valeriele3 @mochicurls21 @sinnful-darling @fleshdotmp4 @ash1 @chilling-on-the-moon @fluffy-koalala @extremelytoastybread @euphoricaldemise

This should probably be all of you.))

[whereserpentswalk]

Do you know what it looks like when powerful things, truly powerful things die? When something massive, with abilities beyond mortal power, ends its life.

When giants know it's their time to die they lay down, useally in a forest. It takes awhile to kill a giant, even when wounded they have days to prepare. They lay down so that nothing will be crushed by their fall. They have mo burial rituals, it would require too much space. It's like a whale fall when they die, the wild dogs and birds will spend weeks, mabye months feasting on their flesh. Humans and their kin can take from them too, their skin is sturdy, their organs fertilize the earth, and their bones are as hard as steel, and can be used for building or for arms. Some of the oldest cities were once towns built in giant skeletons. Both good and bad giants accept their deaths, it's in their nature.

Witches and warlocks always die the opposite way. They're stubborn, of course they are, they think the can master death itself. They make themselves all sorts of horrible things to ward off their own death, from great machines of clockwork and rhythm, to changes to their bodies to save themselves, twisting their forms into truely inhuman things. They say this is part of why so many witches and warlocks grow to such an old age, but they are still mortal at heart, most of them human by birth, though by old age they will hardly seem human, perhaps hardly seem like something of this world at all. Dying warlocks and witches always deny their own deaths, and to meet one is to witness something horrifying yet miserable. They say there was a warlock king who spent his last centuries chained to a gilded throne, unable to move, eating the souls of lesser mages to keep his own soul from passing on.

Dragons die the most destructive deaths. They are beings of fire and ash, and their bodies do not beyray that notion in their doom. Wherever they fall, they will light their surroundings ablaze, burning fields and forests, burning even oceans and lakes. Their blood will poison most life, but the life that survives is changed, flowers become thorny and hot to the touch, birds lose their feathers and grow leathery wings, snakes and lizards and crocodiles grown into wyms and drakes. And those humans and elves who survive a dragonfall but feel it's firey blood become vampires, the freshest and strongest vampires the world ever sees, more powerful and deadly than vampires turned by the bite of their own kind.

When angels die it is their own choice. They don't useally do it, but sometimes they are compelled to. Some wish to join mortal lovers and freinds who have passed, some are merely board or saddened by the world, and some; those who are born to the darkest of gods, are commanded to. They'll useally go to a city center or on top a holy place to do it, and they'll just stand or kneel where they wish to pass, and wait and their radiant bodies turn to stone or metal. They just look like statues after that, after a few generations they are useally thought to be.

Devils and faeries die the strangest deaths. Sometimes they choose to, sometimes they just know they're dying. They'll walk off to somewhere where nobody can see them, and than they just won't be there. Nobody even sees them disappear. They'll just walk into another room, and when you follow them they won't be there, like they were never there at all.

[darthpastry]

I know FNaF seems to be going the whole “William is a crazy psychopath obsessed with immortality just because he is” type of route, but setting that on fire for a few moments, I like to think that at some point he was just a dude.

Maybe he dropped his kids off at school on the way into work. Maybe he played video games with his kids. Maybe he laughed and cried with his family, loved them, cherished them.

Maybe he worked a miserable office job, with that one co-worker who was always better than him. Sure, William was jealous of the guy, but even he had to admit he found Henry admirable.

Maybe he started joking around with the guy, about leaving the thankless corporate life and putting their little town on the map.

Maybe he and Henry went bowling on Wednesdays, which eventually changed to Henry giving William robotics lessons in a stuffy garage with grease stains on every surface.

Maybe William’s wife died and that’s when he discovered Agony.

Maybe one of the prototypes, a more human one, was the perfect place to house the life that the Agony gave.

Maybe his wife wasn’t dead.

Maybe he could he could use this… this Remnant of life for more. Who could he trust to make sure he lived on even after death?

Maybe he could only trust himself.

Maybe he could use his children to create more Remnant. It was never meant to be a serious idea, it was just a strange thing he had come up with while drunk one night.

Maybe it was only a joke that he made it, just to prove that he could. He wasn’t a bad person… right?

Maybe they would just go in there once or twice.

Maybe once or twice more, the feeling of pain and power when what little, yet glorious, Agony they produced was injected into his veins…

Maybe it didn’t matter what was better for his children. What mattered was what was best for him.

Maybe his children looked at him differently, perhaps that was fear on their faces. Strange, he didn’t feel like he was acting different. Perhaps it was simply he was no longer as weak as before he injected himself with Remnant.

Maybe Henry had noticed how he’d become more assertive, how he stood up straighter, how dedicated he became. He probably just thought it was due to the diner opening soon

Maybe Evan had died. That was fine, no one was ever truly dead, as William had learned. Didn’t mean he excused Michael for murdering his little brother either.

Maybe William had murdered Charlie. So what? If he hadn’t taken Henry down a notch, Henry might have stolen the company right under his nose!

Maybe a few more kids died. But William needed more Remnant. He needed to know more.

Maybe Elizabeth had died. Oh well, she was still here, even more so than Evan.

Maybe William was just going to check on the souls, see if the dead could really produce more Remnant when forced to stick around.

Maybe he was terrified when they started to chase him. But the great William Afton couldn’t be terrified? He was immortal! He was a god and these were weak mortals he’d crushed for the greater good!

Maybe he would be safe in the very springlock suit he’d used to kill them. Hah, the fools. They may think they were smart but he—

Maybe he could die.

Maybe these springlocks that had provided him with a safety net of anonymity would be the end of him.

Maybe death would be a relief as the springlocks dug into his skin. He had never seen so much of his own blood before.

Maybe the ghost children danced around him, celebrating his supposed demise.

Maybe he sat in that storage room for 30 years, his rage and anger boiling over. It would have had to, for he had nothing else to sustain him.

[throneofsapphics]

Helloo, can I have a vanilla cappuccino with cinnamon aaand ice? 😁 Here for that pain and longing

summary: nesta, amnesia, spice, angst

warnings: a bit of smut, angst

a/n: thank you for sending this in!

coffee bar celebration

It was a curse, a play Nesta had run out over centuries, haunting and lovely and soul-crushing. She thought she'd known pain before you, but for the joy and love you brought to her she'd endure near anything. Including this.

Nesta had successfully made you fall in love with her five times, and there would be a sixth, seventh, eighth, for the rest of her miserable immortal life, because you were the spot of joy and light and goodness she didn't deserve.

She knelt between your legs, you spread out as a goddess above her, licking softly at your clit. Starting with enough pressure to tease you. She knew your body better than you could ever hope to. She shoved the miserable thought away and focused on you again, turning her head to leave a teasing nip at the crease of your thigh. Her arms wrapped around your legs, pulling you closer, burying herself in your sweet taste and scent.

It was like clockwork, this curse. As you laid next to her, sated, Nesta curled herself around you, not unlike a cat. She pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, and set herself in for a sleepless night.

Bright moonlight streamed through the open window, but she couldn't bring herself to close it. Darkness or light, she wouldn't sleep.

Morning came, bags now building under her eyes as you blinked yours open. You shuffled to the side, eyes widening as you spotted her. “Gods sorry, how much did I drink last night?”

Nesta hadn't cried yet when you woke, but maybe the sixth time was her breaking point.

[la-rougo]

*SFW*—

Hades x Chaotic deity ! GN reader

I could make a chaotic reader series lmaoooo

Warnings: swearing

Even though the king is often busy and doesn’t really visit the upperworld unless necessary, but he sure does know a lot of dieties out there, including you

He only heard about your title like “f/n the disaster bringer” or “f/n the god/goddess of stupidity” he lowkey wanted to know who this deity is

You often run around in valhalla messing with gods and goddesses, pranking all of them and get kicked out sometimes, even Loki is afraid of going near you but ended up being your sidekick

Now that piqued the helheim ruler’s interest, how did someone even managed to do something even worse than loki?

He decided to come out to the upperworld more often to observe you from afar. He wanted to know more about you and maybe hang out around sometimes since he haven’t seek any fun in his life for a long while after all, though he have tons of work to finish

There he sees you pulling out your shenanigans stupidly, how cute. Your chaotic behavior may seem dumb and annoying to other deities but to him? He found it adorable and fascinating on how you come up with new ways of pranking deities none stop

H/c deity was found pushing Loki lightly made him dropped whatever he’s holding “jeez f/n! You’ll never ever get tired of bullying me do you, oh well. That’s what I found cute about you~” Loki said teasingly as he bent down to reach for the object only to feel a hard smack on his ass, his body jumped up highly like those goofy cartoons, yelped loudly from the impact on his butt. He turn look back at you with an angry wojak expression, his fist clenching being one centimeter close to blow your head off with a single punch

You whistles casually and ran away “this is the sixth time of this week that you abused my cheeks you stupid as—!!! *slurs*” you saw him chasing after you, running for your dear life, you tried to find a way to escape him cause you know damn well if he finally get you then he’s gonna slap your bakery back with immense amounts of strength that could send you to the oblivion

You found a tall intimidating god, you didn’t look up to see who he is or you have any clue of it, you hid behind him, sticking your tongue out at Loki. The mischievous god sighs and asked the tall god “sir, I apologize for that gremlin and for the commotion. May I have them back?” Loki smiles sarcastically. The tall god chuckles… wait, you recognize his voice “I’m afraid you’ll have you get your revenge later” oh shit. Is that… is that Hades? You thought as you lean to his side to look up and see his face while Loki floats away in defeat

You stare at him, who’s watching Loki leave, he is Hades the king of the helheim… he’s even handsome up close, suddenly his gaze switches to your eyes as he look at you with a gentle smile

“Where’s my thank you hm?” Your soul flew back to your body and you bowed deeply, head digging down the floor “uhh thank you very much mister!” You said, not looking at him. Hades was about to say something but was cut off by you fleeing away from him as fast as you can, leaving him confused and amused

You actually have been crushing on Hades for a while now, obviously you rant about him to Loki

Every time you see him greeting gods and goddesses so formally, unlike you. Makes your toxic traits says you can do that too

Well you actually tried that but failed, miserably

You often sneaked into the underworld to see your fellow friends like hypnos and definitely not Hades

He’s like your biggest crush or smth, when you saw him training or slaying any titans so majestically or his gaze lays on you, literally those night at your house would be you giggling and kicking your feet thinking about him

You often see him in events, celebrations and parties that mostly zeus being the host(of course) and you see how nice, well mannered and perfect he is

He’s like completely opposite to you which made you believe that he couldn’t be with you, he deserves an independent, formal and smart person, a person who’s as perfect as him not a goofy comedian… at least that’s what you thought

After your first direct encounter, you’re so close to explode every time the moment he made an eye contact with you again

Hades decided, soon he’ll get to know more about you and maybe got together… wait what?

You were hanging out in Valhalla again, but this time. You’re alone, sleeping while your back leaning against a tree in the garden while shifting uncomfortably

A presence seems to be approaching your slumbering form quietly, not daring to wake you up from your beauty sleep. The presence looms over your unconscious body, whoever it is, stepped beside you and laying down next to you without making any sound.

Your uncomfortable shifting was not unnoticed by the person next to you, hands slowly caress your back and sides silently, your upper body was caressed gently, being guided by the hands, which make your body turns aside. Suddenly your head lays on a soft surface, a fabric texture. One of the person’s hand now rest on your head and stroking your hair so tenderly. With the change of position and feeling something on your head, it causes your eye lids to open up slowly, expected to meet a sunlight but instead, observing the sight in front of you made you realized your current position.

You were sleeping on Hades’ lap?! While he’s stroking your hair?!?!?!

“Wha-“

“Hush, dear. Go back to your rest”

Your slightly widened eyes stare at his gentle ones, as gentle as his smile that’s being portrayed on his face

You were about to ask more questions but quickly got shut up by Hades’ lip placing against your forehead. Saying you’re shock would be an understatement. Hades’ lift his head up slightly, moving to place another kiss on your already pink dusted cheek

After calling for your soul to come back to your body, yet you still can’t move, not that you want but you’re actually that surprised. But you collect all your courages left and leans up to his face, leaning in slowly and place a peck on his cheek, the same way that he does to you, which made him surprised, but it was quickly replaced by his silly smile

He peck you back on the forehead while his hand run up to your head and pat it dearly, you feel like you can die right there, like fr

Hades lean against the tree and lift you up by your lower parts, placing you up on his lap and he guides your head to rest on his shoulder

He didn’t expect your second encounter would be this… lovely and sweet, he loves it a lot. He felt like everything that mattered his mind vanished while there’s only you in his head, he had never seen your peaceful side before and he love it, honestly he admire everything about you to the point he didn’t realized his feelings developed more and more

The two rest together under the tree in a garden peacefully, no one dares to mind them or even see them in the first place. At least one person saw and ran away to go weeping in the corner

You and Hades eventually become closer and closer together, even if the two’s personalities are as different as day and night, rumors starts to spread about Hades being your boyfriend or smth

I kid you not, when Poseidon heard about this he’s beyond disappointment. Out of all god and goddesses, you??? While zeus actually being supportive and adamas is just, shocked

Hades didn’t mind the rumors, he actually likes it since its just fun to tease you something like “we look like couples don’t you think?”

You almost leave him a scar

He’s actually starting to get serious about his feelings, does he think of you as a friend? Of course! That’s what he at least tried, cause seeing you with Loki makes him rethink his plan about confession

One day he was about to meet you in Valhalla like usual, smiling a bit. Once he’s close to your meet up place. A frown soon took over his face when he sees you and Loki together

He was about to turn away but a few words reached his ears

“What if he didn’t like me back?”

“He’s obvious as fuck!”

“Wait really?”

Hades turn back to see your nervous form looking around, probably looking for him? Hell yea!

He sneakily approach you from behind and surprise you with a little greeting

You flinched and turn around to see Hades’ face, his handsome face… you look back to Loki and giving him the “what do I do bro” face. Loki didn’t reply and slowly leaving, giving you a last thumbs up and vanished

You were about to go chase Loki but soon realized what you have to do. You nervously turn back to Hades, smiling like always, gah dayum he’s hot.

You cleared your throat and trying to recall all the practices you did with Loki, only to stand in front of him awkwardly. Hades’ calm expression turn into confusion and lean himself in to see what’s mattering you

“Are you alright?”

You startled by Hades again and trying to form a sentence

“Okay so, I’ve been crushing on this guy lately…”

Hades’ frown slightly and straightened his back. He only stood silently, he doesn’t even have to ask who it is cause it’s probably Loki, if it’s another person then, why would you tell him and not Loki?

“He’s a very cool god, I used to watch him from afar and admire him, I never thought of approaching him or talk to him because he’s Zeus’ brother. I’m scared he wouldn’t want to date an unserious deity because he’s more than a divine being”

Hades expression changed into a shocked one as he awkwardly spoke up

“Poseidon?”

You look up at him with a “bro what?” Face and facepalm. Do you really have to confess more? You thought he’s more clever than this!

“No… it’s not Poseidon!”

“Adamas?”

“…no.”

That’s obvious enough judging from Hades’ even more shocked expression. You pray he doesn’t reject you or if he does then at least doesn’t damage your relationship, you heard a soft chuckle left Hades’ lips and a reply

“I apologize for my obliviousness… but thank you for your reassurance”

Wait what? Reassurance? Fr? Like— fr?!!

You felt your cheek heat up, so does his. Hades lean in to place a peck on your cheek and pat you

“I like you too”

Flabbergasted was just an understatement, you couldn’t process anything but the only thing you’re sure you’re feeling is happiness and love

You look at him, now slightly flustered expression, which suits him a lot. You lean up and return the peck

Holy shit, having hades’ as a partner is literally every girls dream

Since he have quite lots of work, he’s quite clingy. When he have a free time he would cuddle you and spending times with you ended up with him going back to his work late

He loves you with all of his heart and he never dares to not return the affections because you have to feel how good you make him feel!

He’s also not ashamed of giving you affection or you giving him too much in public, like when he’s having a meeting with the Olympus gang. You who weren’t even invited is sitting on his lap and calling him like “hades my pookie bear” he loves it a lot and love his relatives’ reactions (Poseidon being the most disgusted)

He cares a lot like A LOT about you, example like when you cough a little he would immediately become worried and ask if you’re ok, he’ll go get you warm water and meds

Of course you tell him to calm down, although you love that about him

He doesn’t often get jealous because he trust you and loves you! Though sometimes he’s a bit unhappy when you’re too close with some other god/goddesses. But he wouldn’t cause a scene and just look away until you’re back to him

He🗣️definitely🗣️cook🗣️so🗣️good🗣️even though most of the time you would cook for him, but when it’s his day off he would make the most delicious meal known to Olympus for you, his love of his life

He could go on days ranting about how you’re a light that lit up his dark life into a fun spontaneous one, he loves you so much even words can’t even describe how much he cherish you

[bansheeoftheforest]

Would you believe me? [Ghost Au]

This is officially my 20th fic! Of course I had to celebrate with some hopefully humourous Ghost Au :) Originally I envisioned this as a first part of a series of different au oneshots, all with the basis of "no one believes Henry" but now I'm not quite sure if there will actually be something out of that. Regardless, I hope yall enjoy <3 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wordcount: 5807

Summary: Dr. Henry Jekyll meets an unfortunate end after escaping the sewers. Too bad not many seem keen to believe his little predicament.

CW: Gore (I consider it to be quite light/nondescriptive but just in case!)

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So... This is how it all ended.

  He stared at the mangled thing that used to be his body. He stared at the cracked skull, the blood that had already stopped seeping, and the dirt and mud which had further sullied the appearance he had so often sought pride in. You could barely see the green vibrancy of the waistcoat, or the rugged shape of the cape which had gotten stuck and torn by the carriage wheel. To think that this had once been a human being- once had been him- to think that this once had been Hyde, just moments ago, desperately attempting to escape through the sewers... But not anymore. There was no life behind those crushed eyes, no air within those lungs, no blood within that heart. 

  And yet, here he was. 

  Still conscious. Still watching.

  He did not look like the man on the ground, the one who would now be reduced to nothing but mere maggots and dirt. No, around his waist was his normally red- albeit slightly paler- waistcoat. Around his neck was his cravat. He was not the corpse in the too-short clothing or even the familiar younger, blonder man, no, he was the man he had always been. 

  He was Henry Jekyll. 

  Huh.... How strange. 

  He had not really expected any of this. Truly, it was almost cruel. To have fought so hard for survival, for dominance over the mind and body he shared, and yet it didn’t matter, now it was all gone, and so was Hyde. 

  ‘Well,’ he thought, ‘how unfortunate.’

  But it was over, now. He knew that it was. Perhaps he should be glad- after all, his soul seemed to be whole once again, if it ever had been. But that did not change that his life- his own, unhappy, miserably comedic life- was now over. No last wishes, no last actions, no goodbyes- it was just... Gone. Just like that. Taken just like that, by accident, not even deserving of an active attempt of someone who truly wished him dead, no, all there had been to it was the exhaustion, the weary eyes, the seemingly empty road and a speeding carriage... The coach, in panic, attempting to wake him, and as he had died in his arms, he had decided that this stranger was not deserving of a funeral, of justice, and had dragged him into an alleyway, before escaping the scene of the crime, into the everlasting night. 

  He had not even screamed. He had gone quietly, gone along with his lot in life, like he always had. 

  Oh well, how unfortunate indeed. 

  At least, he was quite sure that he was gone, now. 

  He looked pretty solid. Perhaps a bit worse for wear, a bit ruffled- perhaps, if someone looked a bit too long, they would see right through him, metaphorically and literally. Perhaps they would see the way his limbs could not grab ahold of anything solid, the way it melted into the bricks of the building he had attempted to brace himself against, as he had moved away from the tether of the body. Or perhaps the darkness of the night would hide it, disguise it, conceal the death and become the new corpse he inhabited, until the break of dawn, where the sun would shine right through him without warming up his cold body. Or perhaps he would not be seen at all. Perhaps he was stuck, now. Not even deserving of purgatory. Of neither Hell nor Heaven. He could not blame God, of course, if there was one. But at least an eternal punishment in hell would be better than an eternity of unrecognition, a limbo of observation as the world moved on without him. 

  So, what now, doctor? 

  Well, perhaps he did not have to stay and stare at his corpse all night. But... What else? 

  He squinted. He was dead, now, so what could he possibly do? Wait for his cadaver to be found, walk around London’s endless streets? Attempt to gain contact, try to go home? Nothing seemed appealing- or possible, for that matter- but he was a scientist, was he not? Was the impossible really that unreachable?

  He took in the sight of himself and his sorry state one last time. Then, he turned on his heel, and walked out of the alleyway, following the traces of blood, a trail of a body and the footsteps. Perhaps it would not have been so unusual in the grimy streets of London, where butchers threw remains as they pleased, but perhaps the hand sticking out from behind the boxes would get someone to realise what had happened. 

  Or perhaps the maggots would be faster. 

  He walked down the streets. His steps felt easy, like a weight had disappeared from his shoulders, which it quite literally had. All that was left of him was, of course, those seven grams. It was a funny feeling, having the wind breeze right through you, but it wasn’t unpleasant or unwelcome, it was freeing, like a cold glass of water in the middle of the night, or a breath of fresh air after weeks in the industrialised London Districts. Who could have known how limiting the physical body could be? He knew, oh, he knew- he would grieve. He would grieve the air which no longer stayed within his lungs, he would grieve the silent pulse of the heart he no longer had, he would grieve every laugh line, smile line, grey hair, wrinkle and blemish which would no longer grace his skin, a testament of his time on this earth. He would grieve the life he used to live, he would grieve the man he used to be, he would grieve the life which had been ripped out of his hands and he would grieve everything he had never achieved. He would grieve, oh, he would grieve, but now, nothing mattered. After all, he was nothing but a corpse, now. He was nothing but another memory, another corpse for the cemetery and another pile of food for the maggots.  

  He tried to touch every street lamp, every wall he walked past, tried to feel the cool touch as his fingertips went through the metal and bricks, as his new form took shape and hold and as his conscience stayed within his very soul. But his little walk, his little dance among the cobblestone paths was soon at its halt. 

  He was not at the Society, no, instead his little odyssey had led him towards a more discreet building- or perhaps discreet was a bad word. More humble than the bombastic residence of science that so many called home, he now stood before the Scotland Yard Police Station. 

  It looked abandoned, yet he knew it was not. It was not like crime stopped at night, no, and some lights were still lit. Through the windows, he saw the main office, where Sergeant Enoch Brokenshire currently resided. The closest he could ever get to a policeman who trusted him. 

  He did not bother to open the doors. He slid right through them, and luckily for him, no constables were lingering in the dark hallways. He doubted they would have seen him- but if they had, they surely would have gotten quite the midnight scare. The thought almost got him to laugh. 

  He arrived in front of the door, neatly and simplistically labelled “Sergeant Enoch Brokenshire”. He raised his hand to knock, attempted to make contact with the wood, and only realised his little problem as his hand simply went through- not deeply, mind you, but enough to get him to sigh. Instead, he attempted to call out.

  “Sergeant? Sergeant Brokenshire?”

  His voice- he heard it, but it sounded... Quiet, airy, like a loud whisper to the wind rather than the steady, unshakable voice of Dr. Henry Jekyll. Perhaps that was because he simply did not have a voice box, who knew? But he heard shuffling behind the door, footsteps, soon the door swung open, and he was face to face with the man in question. 

  The Sergeant- weary, tired, having been awake and working for multiple more hours than he should- had to take a moment to recognise the man in front of him, Dr. Henry Jekyll, a man normally tall and proud, now dishevelled. He squinted. Was there something wrong with the doctor?

  “Dr. Jekyll?” he finally spoke, “why on earth are you awake at this hour?” 

  Something within Jekyll seemed to light up, a spark of hope at being seen, of being recognised, of being heard and understood- but Brokenshire did not know that, of course, he might not even have noticed, what with the overtime looming heavy over his head. Yet he moved, away from the doorframe, back into the office, inviting the doctor to follow him. Jekyll did so, despite the others' confused look as he left the door open.

  “Well, Sergeant, you see, I seem to have run into a bit of a problem”. 

  He did not take a seat- as the seat, most likely, could not be taken- and instead stood close to the corridor, as if on the move. The room was dark, only lit by a single, lone candle upon the Sergeant’s desk. It did not take long for Jekyll’s nonexistent brain to piece together that the other seemed to be in the “migraine” stage of his overworking, a symptom which the doctor had been all too familiar with in the life he once had. Perhaps that's why the Sergeant did not manage to look closer, to notice a certain unfamiliarity, something wrong. Yet the furrow in his brow only deepened as the doctor spoke.

  “What’s the matter, Doctor?” 

  He thought it over, for a moment, attempting to find a way to explain.

  “Well, Sergeant,” he started, “would you believe me if I told you that I was just run over by a carriage, and that my soul may be slightly detached from my body?”

  “... what?”

  “So that’s a no, then.” 

  The doctor shrugged, a bit to himself, as the cogs in the Sergeant’s brain turned and turned. 

  “Well then, Sergeant, I think you best come with me, and I will explain when we are there.”

  The Sergeant blinked.

  “What? I’m sorry- what is going on?” 

  Jekyll did not respond, he simply turned around and walked out of the room again. He barely let the Sergeant grab his hat and coat, as he tried to catch up. 

  “Dr. Jekyll- what on earth is going on?” 

  “I think you will understand once we are there, sir.” 

  He slowed down slightly, just enough for Brokenshire to get to the entrance door first, masking the fact that he could not open them himself. Perhaps Brokenshire did notice it, perhaps he did notice the soft glow which seemed to follow the doctor, the lightness in his steps and his speed, but perhaps the late night was enough to make him question himself, rather than the state of the doctor.

  They continued onwards. They did not speak. Jekyll felt as if pulled, or perhaps called, towards the cadaver which was currently rotting away in that fated alleyway, and Brokenshire had no choice but to follow. The officer couldn't help but wonder if this was all some sort of joke, or a trick by God, but if something truly had happened, what manner of man would he be if he simply ignored the doctor? No, perhaps he had no choice. And so he followed, down the streets, past the crossings, through the back alleys and various grimy shortcuts the doctor seemed to know. They continued onwards, yet they did not speak.

  Suddenly, as they continued down the avenue, Jekyll stopped them. He put an arm out to keep the man behind him from continuing, a completely useless gesture as the Sergeant would have simply gone right through him, but it worked regardless. They turned towards the alleyway. Jekyll stared right into it for a moment, Brokenshire tried so as well, but could not see anything. Perhaps that’s when he noticed the dark, crimson trails upon the cobbled ground. 

  “Dr. Jekyll-” 

  “Come, in here.” 

  Jekyll continued inwards, slower than his steady pace here had been. Brokenshire- alone in the dark, with nothing but a gentleman and his baton- could not help but feel a bit nervous. The doctor continued and then stopped behind a few old boxes, rotten and with faded labels .

  “Here we are, Sergeant.”

  Brokenshire continued forward. Slowly, the subject of this odyssey came into view- first the hand, crushed and bloodied. Then the arm, twisted and broken. Soon the head, turned against the ground with large portions dented and missing. A freezing cold sensation washed over him, a horror slowly dawning, as he realised the sight before him.

  “Oh god-” 

  He felt sick, sick to the very core of his body, and yet Dr. Jekyll just stood there, emotionless. 

  “Turn it over for me, will you?” the doctor suddenly spoke, breaking the Sergeant out of his shock… Slightly.

  “I- What?” 

  “Turn the corpse over.” 

  Brokenshire just stared at Jekyll for a moment, trying to process what he was asking. Finally, he kneeled down next to the cadaver, took out his baton and carefully nudged it, until the face became fully visible.

  The face of Dr. Henry Jekyll. Slack-jawed, eyes half-lidded, nose broken, eyes crushed, teeth knocked out. The Sergeant jumped back, eyes wide and stare evident- this- this could not be, could it? This could not be Henry Jekyll- no- no of course not- Dr. Henry Jekyll stood right in front of him-

  “I was run over.” 

  The Sergeant blinked. Jekyll continued.

  “A carriage- could not necessarily see who it was, but I suspect he did not properly see me in the dark. When he realised what he had done, he panicked, and dumped me here.” 

  He said it all so casually, like it did not matter to him, like he just expected Brokenshire to understand what he was telling him. It was incomprehensible, truly. 

  “...What?” 

  Jekyll had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. 

  “I’m dead, Sergeant. Killed. Murdered, even. I am showing you my corpse.” 

  Yes, Brokeshire was definitely hallucinating, he was sure of that. 

  “Sergeant, are you listening to me?” 

  He was definitely not listening to him, way too busy staring at the mangled dismemberment that used to be Dr. Jekyll. 

  “This… This can’t be…” Was all the copper managed to get out. Jekyll actually did roll his eyes now.

  “I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Dear God, man, pull yourself together.”

  “I pull myself together?! You- you’re the one claiming to be dead!”

  The doctor groaned, frustration evident. 

  “Alright, listen; go home, get some sleep, whatever you wish- then come back, see the corpse in broad daylight, and realise that I was trying to tell you the truth, alright?” 

  He thought about it for a moment- he was sure that this was all some sort of fever dream, a hallucination, a trick of the light- but really- what could he do? If it was real, should he just leave the corpse here? In the alleyway? For anyone to find? 

  “Alright,” he said, “good evening, Dr. Jekyll.”

  And with that, the Sergeant spun around, ignored his own confused thoughts telling him to stay and figure out what was going on, and left the alleyway. 

  Dr. Jekyll grumbled.

  “Typical.”

  What now, Doctor? 

  Well, he couldn’t say that he was particularly keen on staying out on the street all night, ghost or not. He was not sure what time it was, the night might be eternal for all he knew, and so, he once more took one last look at his body, before he left as well.

  This time, he made his way towards the Society, not much further than the police station had been. He felt a tinge of melancholy, yet nostalgia as he watched his proud building come into view. His home, which no longer would be as such. He could not help but wonder what would become of him now; an eternal wanderer? Or perhaps a simple restless soul, bound to his corpse, or perhaps the life he had once lived? Would he be free once his body was buried, would he descend into Hell like he had resigned himself to? He did not know, for the moment he did not care, so as he stood in front of the portico of the building that had once been his pride and joy, he spared no thought as he silently walked straight through the doors.

  He could go to his office, although he had nothing to do there. After all, he could not touch anything, so what would he do? Stare at the uncorked wine bottle, the open window which Hyde had escaped through? Ha, no, he had to make himself known somehow. Perhaps he could find a Lodger, tell them about his little problem, hope they would believe him more than Brokenshire. Or perhaps he could simply act as normal, perhaps they would not notice that something was deeply, awfully wrong with him. Or perhaps they would, perhaps they would not care. He couldn’t say that he did. 

  ���Oh, my- Dr. J! Why on earth are you awake this late?” 

  Rachel, of course. It must be early morning by now, although the night was still abysmal and everdark, so it should come to no surprise that she was awake by now. Then again, he was well aware as to why she looked to be in such a worse state than usual; her cheeks seemed red and puffy, and the bags under her eyes were severely darker. Yet she smiled, as if nothing was wrong. She was carrying baking sheets, presumably having raided Doddle’s room for her own supplies which he had stolen, seemingly needing to get her mind off of the previous night as fast as possible. 

  “Would you believe me if I told you I was run over?” 

  Perhaps not too different from Brokenshire, Rachel did not seem to realise that he was telling the genuine truth. Instead, she just laughed softly. Either she did not believe him, or her mentally exhausted mind could not grasp it just yet. 

  “Well, you certainly look worse for wear!” She said, as if she was not aware of her own state, “Did you even get any sleep? Was the banquet that fun?” 

  Ugh. 

  “Sure.” 

  “Well, I’m glad you are back home! Give me a few minutes and I will get you something to snack on, alright?”

  “Rachel, I can’t eat.”

  “Oh, nonsense! Not with all the alcohol Robert must have gotten you to consume- now, tut tut!”

  And with that, she continued onwards. Well. At least he tried. 

  With Rachel gone, he continued upwards. Perhaps a Lodger was awake, he frankly doubted any of them would believe him, or perhaps they were smarter than Rachel and Brokenshire- but regardless, he wanted something to do before Brokenshire would start his morning shift and hopefully return to the cadaver. He knew that some Lodgers most likely attended the now-raided bazaar, and could potentially be back and awake by now, as he doubted any of them had gotten caught. He also knew certain Lodgers were quite the night owls, perhaps the reason for why so many of them often did not show up until late afternoon the day afterwards, so he had quite a nice chance to find someone to pass time with-

  His thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud ‘BANG’ from one of the laboratories. 

  Good God...

  Despite being dead, and therefore not really being responsible for the Lodgers anymore, Jekyll let his instincts and his curiosity get the better of him. His near-floating footsteps hurried towards the lab where the noise had been heard. Helsby’s lab, of course. 

  The door was locked, typical. No sense of lab safety. Jekyll just rolled his eyes and went straight through it. 

  Inside, the room was clearly lit. Turns out the loud “bang” he had heard was caused by Helsby’s pet kraken having knocked over its own ‘sleeping’ tank- which seemed to not have shattered, but had spilt water and all the different aquatic paraphernalia which had resided within it. The kraken moved like a kicked dog from the scene of the crime, while Helsby- wide awake and frantic- tried to figure out how to solve the problem. It did not take long until a dishevelled Bryson ran in, still trying to button on a shirt as to not be totally immodest. His eyes seemed to scan the scene, yet his attention was quickly caught by Dr. Jekyll, still standing indifferently by the doorway.

  “Oh- Dr. Jekyll-” Bryson stopped, and blinked. Helsby turned his attention from his labmate and to the aforementioned doctor, “How did you get in? The door should be locked.”

  “I’m dead.”

  Helsby sneered.

  “Don’t be dramatic, it isn’t that bad- Nicholas- Help me lift, please!” 

  How two men of their stature could lift a tank of that size was beyond Jekyll, yet he simply watched as they managed to get it back up. At this point he was glad that the floor was made out of stone and marble, otherwise convinced that it would already have begun to rot and mould by this point. 

  The two men panted heavily as they rested against the now upright tank, already dreading actually having to clean up the waste. Jekyll simply remained by his spot at the door, watching. The kraken cowered away from him. 

  “Could’ve at least offered a hand, Doc.” Helsby continued, “or are you scared to ruin your pretty little suit?”

  Jekyll continued to stare blankly, then stuck his entire arm through the still-closed door. 

  “So what, some potion of yours backfired? Big deal. Now, please get out.” 

  He could almost guess that Helsby wasn’t in a particularly nice mood. Oh well. He shrugged and walked straight through the door. Seemed like he would have to find another way to spend the last few hours until morning. 

  He continued to walk around aimlessly. As usual, he did not to bring any more attention to himself, perhaps because no one seemed to be around. Despite that, he had a sort of… Gnawing. Like he wanted to do something- slam a door, flicker with a light, break something… He knew that he did not get a sudden cat-like need for mischief simply because he was now a ghost, but he also knew that, since he was newly noncorporeal, it would take quite a while before he could actually manipulate objects. At least he knew that he should be able to do so, eventually. It seemed like listening to Maijabi paid off. So, really, he did not have much more to do than to find someone that could keep him company.

  It did not take long until he found his way to the alchemical laboratory, in which Ito was currently the only resident. Speaking of the Devil, his apprentice seemed to currently be working on something in the lab, as he heard movement inside. This time, the door was unlocked, but that did not really help him as, once more, he could not open doors. He quickly decided to simply glide through it instead, in hopes that his apprentice could entertain him for the remainder of the night. 

  Ito was, as expected, turned away from the door, slightly hunched over one of the tables and seemingly quite concentrated on the task at hand. He did not make any noise, but he doubted that she would have heard him regardless. He moved closer, until he was practically looking over her shoulder. Ah, that’s the problem; she was trying to decipher his own horrible handwriting on some notes he had previously given her. 

  Virginia stopped, seemingly feeling a light sensation by her side, turned towards said direction, and then proceeded to jump away and let out a small scream. 

  “OH- God- Dr. Jekyll- I’m sorry, you scared me- I- what on earth are you doing in here at this hour?” 

  Jekyll smiled gently. 

  “I was bored, and noticed that you were awake.” He replied, more matter-of-factly than he normally was. Ito- still trying to catch her breath- took a moment to process his words. He guessed she had been awake longer than she should. 

“I... Okay, alright.” She attempted to straighten her dress and her hair, which were more messily put up than usual. “I was just trying to follow your notes on-” 

  The door opened. 

  They turned, and by the doorway stood none other than Dr. Maijabi, their resident ectoplasmic pathologist. He looked surprisingly well-put together for this hour of the night- or perhaps morning. 

  “I’m sorry, I happened to walk past when I heard Virginia scream, is everything alright?”

  Virginia began to blush, embarrassed. Yet she attempted to explain the very simple situation- although she quickly noticed that Maijabi’s eyes were fixed on Dr. Jekyll, who stared back, as if he was challenging him. Virginia looked between them, confused.

  Finally, Maijabi moved the eyepatch. His paler spirit eye was now focused on the younger doctor. 

  “Henry,” he said, calmly, “Why are you dead?” 

  Virginia blinked. Had she really heard him right?

  Jekyll just shrugged. 

  “Carriage.” 

  Maijabi looked at him for a second, then nodded. 

  “Understandable, then.” 

  Jekyll grinned.

  Finally, Virginia seemed to process the conversation that had happened right in front of her. 

  “.... What?” 

  The two men looked at her, perhaps as if they had forgotten that she was right there. Maijabi simply closed the door behind him and moved towards the two of them.

  “Henry is dead”, he said, “what we are seeing of him now is nothing but his spectre, a ghost.” 

  “No-” she said, “no- that cannot be-” she turned to Jekyll, and looked at him- the ceiling light was turned on, the only obstacle to the truth was her own exhaustion. She stared at him, examined him. Finally, an expression of utter heartbreak graced her face. “Oh- Henry- Why did you not tell me?” 

  “Well, I did not get a chance to. Also, I did not think you’d believe me. I mean- I tried to tell Brokenshire, Rachel, Helsby and Bryson- neither of them believed me, so...” He shrugged, like it was the least bothersome thing in the world. “I mean, I kind of expected it.” 

  “I would have believed you!” she blurted out.

  “Would you?” 

  She hesitated. She tried to reach out, tried to touch him, but let her hand recoil as it simply went straight through her mentor’s shoulder. She did not believe it now, either. It was late, she had been awake for God knows how long- perhaps this was all just a very bad dream she would soon wake up from... She was brought out from her thoughts by Maijabi, who had pulled out a chair, and attempted to get her to sit down. She complied quite easily. 

  Henry decided to try to explain the situation to his two favourite Lodgers- of course not mentioning anything regarding the scuffle with Hyde, the meeting with Queen Lucy, nothing of such- simply that he had found himself out late at night and had gotten run over by a stray carriage. Quite unbelievable, the streets of London were neither that dark nor crowded so late at night, but it was, in synopsis, what had happened. If he was lucky, no one but the coppers and the morticians would get to see his corpse and the clothes he wore, so there was no need to explain anything else, and especially so when Hyde seemed to be... Gone? 

  Virginia did not seem to grasp how nonchalant Henry was about all of this- after all, what was he supposed to do? Cry, scream, or perhaps beg God for a second chance? Ha! God is just as dead as he and even if He wasn’t, he would not care. All Dr. Jekyll could do was to accept the state he now was in. After all, he had an eternity to grieve, he did not need to do that now. Maijabi seemed to understand his stance quite better, even if he did not seem particularly happy over the noncorporeal state of someone he once- still did- consider as his own son. 

  ...

  They tried to converse, but quickly fell silent. Time passed, and dawn began to break. Neither of them were quite sure how long it had been, after all, two of them had the inevitable fog of night clouding their brains and the third would no longer be able to understand the concept of time at all. But dawn broke, and Sergeant Brokenshire should be here soon. Perhaps to try to meet the doctor, try to convince himself that the supposed dream he had was just that; nothing more but a dream, or perhaps to inform the Lodgers of the find in the alley. Or perhaps he would still not believe him, and Jekyll would be forced to find him again, and attempt to convince him of the truth. 

  Virginia had, at some point, fallen asleep against the table. Maijabi and Jekyll did not say much, after all, what was there to say? It wasn’t like either could console the other, offer condolences, grieve- it was simply a new matter of existence which they both now had to get used to. Maijabi had eventually offered to go and make tea, but had quickly realised that Jekyll could neither hold nor drink yet, although the man himself found that blunder quite funny. 

  Finally, by the time the grandfather clock in the alchemical laboratory read five in the morning, there was a knock on the door, startling Ito awake from her slumber. In came Rachel, looking weary. 

  “Dr. Jekyll? Sergeant Brokenshire is in the southern foyer, looking for you.” 

  She seemed hesitant, worried, nervous- Jekyll could not help but grin. Perhaps not at her emotions, but more or less over what might soon take place upon the stage that was their Society. He followed her immediately, Maijabi and Ito following close behind. 

  As they arrived in the southern foyer- or more colloquially, the back entrance, they noticed a handful of Lodgers already gathering, the few early-birds the Society had, or some which might have gotten woken up by the commotion. They stood wearily by the balustrade which looked down upon the foyer, a similar scene to the arrival of Frankenstein and Moreau. Down the staircase stood Brokenshire, a few constables which Jekyll recognised, and a single stretcher with something covered by a white sheet. 

  Jekyll’s grin stretched further. 

  Rachel seemed to get even more nervous by the sight, perhaps Brokenshire had not quite packed up by the time he had asked her to find the Doctor. Henry couldn’t help but wonder about the state of the Sergeant’s mind right now- did he believe what had happened the night before, and knew that the Doctor’s spirit was still not-quite-alive and well? Or did he perhaps hope that Rachel would have found the actual doctor, to prove that whoever now laid upon the stretcher was nothing more but a coincidence or a doppelgänger? Had he asked her just to see if there would have been a doctor to be found? Had he even asked, or was that simply what Rachel said, having panicked at the sight of the Scotland Yard? 

  Well, whatever it was, as Dr. Henry Jekyll and his entourage descended down the stairs, Sergeant Brokenshire turned even more pale. He opened his mouth, as if trying to speak, yet only a slight stutter came out. 

  “My dear Sergeant!” Henry cut in instead, “You did well and listened last night, I presume?” 

  He came close, very close. Maijabi, Ito and Rachel stayed by the staircase. Henry’s hand ghosted over what used to be his own leg, covered under the sheet. 

  “I- Yes, Doctor.” 

  Oh, this was going to be fun. 

  If he turned around, perhaps he’d see distraught expressions upon the faces of Maijabi and Ito. If he turned around, perhaps he’d see the overwhelming anxiety dawning upon Rachel, a fear that the body upon the stretcher was her own Edward Hyde. If he turned around, perhaps he’d see the confused and perplexed faces of the rest of the conscious Lodgers. But he did not turn around, no, he simply gave the Sergeant one of those brilliant smiles he had trained into perfection. 

  “Sergeant,” he said, “would you be a dear and remove the sheet?” 

  “You- I- I mean- are you sure?” 

This was not necessarily standard protocol. Then again, it was not necessarily standard protocol for the Scotland Yard to drag a corpse to its place of work instead of straight to a coroner. 

  “You heard me.” 

  Brokenshire looked back at his constables, who looked as weirded out by the request as he was. Finally, the Sergeant took a deep breath, grabbed the end of the sheet which faced the back entrance door, and pulled it off. 

  A hush fell over the room.

  Indeed, the corpse of Dr. Henry Jekyll laid now in full display. The broken skull, crushed facial features, dirtied hair, broken bones, limbs stiff to their very peak, green waistcoat and ragged cape. 

  The ghost of Dr. Henry Jekyll was, however, too busy examining himself to look around at the horrified faces. 

  His hands rested- perhaps more figuratively than literally- against his waist as he leaned over, inspecting himself. Soon one of his hands came up, placing his index and thumb against his chin.

  “Oh my- whoever positioned me did excellent work! You would barely be able to notice the way I laid in before- especially with the rigour mortis!” 

  He laughed, so lightheartedly, like it was a funny little anecdote. 

  Brokenshire had often said that the doctor could be quite scary when he wanted to be. He now realised that he had severely underestimated how scary he could be when he was seemingly not even trying.

  Henry could not help but to wish that Lanyon would walk right in now and see the sight before them. 

  Finally, he turned around, back towards the crowd. It was almost laughable- their expressions of pure horror, pure terror, pure disgust, pure disbelief. Perhaps it was a bit unfair for him to laugh at them, but then again, it was a bit unfair that he was dead. Still, he smiled, and faced his dear Lodgers. His dear Lodgers, who might now question the demise of their leader. His dear Lodgers, who might question the clothes upon his beaten body. 

  His dear Lodgers, staring down at him from the balustrade.

  Yet his smile never faded, oh, no- the answers would come later, but for now, they had to believe him.

  “What?” He finally said, “You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

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

[wo-mary]

Letter from the Abyss

«Oh, Louis.

How many years have passed since you killed me? How many years have passed since the poison coursed through my veins while you gazed at me with loving yet distant eyes, unaware of what you were doing? How many years since you embraced me from behind while I sat with my throat slit, drowning in my own blood? How many years since your heart shattered from killing the one you loved?

I was slowly and agonizingly dying an impossible vampire death. Every cell of my body, every fragment of my soul, was pierced by unbearable pain. And all I could feel was how I sank into your strong arms, descending into the inescapable darkness. At least, I was grateful that it was you who did it, and not someone else.

Did you at least believe that I loved you, mon cher?

You didn’t think I was perfect, but you felt that I was a lot. But I couldn't help my love, and from the lack of yours, I made sure we both drowned in my bottomless, soul-crushing love together.

You didn’t think I was sane and saw me as a bloodthirsty, unbalanced killer. But that was my language of love — hysteria, tears, abuse, demands, and keeping you in an iron grip. Every time you tried to get close to someone else, I nearly turned myself inside out. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to destroy everything around me. So I destroyed everything around you.

You didn’t think we were meant for each other, but I saw in our impossible love the most sincere and genuine thing. Yes, it was built on your suffering, on your immense black void, which gradually consumed me too.

You didn’t believe I was faithful to you, and only saw my betrayals. But they weren’t infidelities; they were weak, miserable attempts to get your attention, to stir strong feelings in you, to make you love me as much as I loved you.

I tried to be gentle and tender. But you didn’t respond, and every time, I chose my demons to show my love for you, Louis.

I tried to speak openly, but you didn’t listen, so I committed all sorts of foolish acts just to reach your heart.

Oh God, how I loved you, Louis de Pointe du Lac. I loved you so much, mon cher, that I became cruel. To you. To myself. To the world. I was a raw, exposed nerve, capable only of erupting with emotions and suffering. And when you were killing me, I thought — yes, God, yes, I’ll stop feeling this. He will end my life, and there will be no more love. He will end my life, and there will be no more suffering. He will end my life, slit my throat, poison me, burn me in the furnace… the same one where I burned the useless human bodies that meant nothing to me…

But you didn’t finish your mission. I remained in pain. In suffering. With a soul shattered into pieces. Fully united with my own black hole, the one I so desperately tried to escape by making you my lover, by making you fall in love with me, by loving you all my life.

I was left alone with an impossible, imperfect love for you. Left without you. Oh, Louis, you can’t imagine how immense this pain was. It cannot be measured by instruments, by years, by the depth of a soul. It cannot be compared to anything. But it can be felt. And, you know, maybe if you had known back then that I hadn’t completely died, you would have thought that I was preparing to kill you too, to give you that same unbearable pain, and you’d be right. But while I was dying and regenerating at the same time, I faced unbearable despair and gave up. I stopped fighting. Stopped struggling with you. Stopped making plans against you. I just broke apart and let that despair swallow me to the very depths.

Oh, Louis. How many years have passed? And only now are you reading this letter. And if you’re looking for a reason why I did this, then read the letter again. Then again and again. And understand that I’m still slowly dying. I’m still alone with this impossible love for you, mon cher.

And maybe, with a small part of my soul, I still wish you would finish killing me. Because I can’t do this anymore.

Forever yours, relentless and unbearable, Lestat de Lioncourt»

[silverjirachi]

it is so wild because like, i am supposed to be miserable?? i am living the sad gay childless hedonistic lifestyle that is supposed to make me wracked with guilt and stay up at night feeling the soul crushing weight of heartwrenching loneliness, a torrent in my soul that can never know peace or TRUE purpose until i put away my “sinful demeanor” and submit to the will of God and I am.. not that? I have never been happier and felt more calm and complete in my life? I have to tell you the only times I felt anxious and guilty and incomplete were when I was in that church lol

[thetriumphantpanda]

HAS ANYONE SENT THIS ONE YET I'M SORRY IF THEY HAVE BUT - “I love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you. they don’t get to have you, but i do.” wiiiiiiith Frankie please ily

HANNAH YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE WHAT HAVE YOU DONE 🫠 you agree the first to request and I am happy to deliver but GOD ALMIGHTY IS IT HOT IN MY ROOM OR WHAT?! I LOVE YOU. THANK YOU FOR SUCH A GOOD REQUEST. I hope you like this 🫶🏼

Pairing | Frankie Morales x Female Reader

Word Count | 1K (THESE WERE MEANT TO BE QUICK AND EASY DRABBLES WTF)

Warnings | Soft!Frankie (He needs his own warning), loss of virginity, unprotected PiV sex (Seriously, don't do this kids) and just general fluff.

This is part of my 500 followers celebration. If you want to request a 500 word Drabble, check out this post and head into my ask box. The more the merrier. 

Main Masterlist

 You can feel the nerves coursing through your bloodstream as Frankie stands at the edge of the bed and takes his shirt off. You’re trying to catch your breath, and failing miserably, after he’d teased two orgasms from you with his mouth within half an hour. He’d kissed all the way up your naked body, soft and wet open-mouthed kisses until he was pressing his lips to yours and you were tasting yourself on his tongue. All of this was new and whilst you were thoroughly enjoying yourself, you couldn’t settle in yourself that there was still plenty of time for it to all go wrong. 

Frankie had never been planned like this. He’d been your friend, first and foremost, but somewhere along the line things had changed. He’d flirted back with you; he’d started buying you drinks and making excuses to see you on your own without the rest of the guys around. Then, a week ago, he’d kissed you. You’d pulled away almost immediately and for a second, he thought that was it, rejection and the end of your friendship, until you took his hands in yours and told him the real reason. You were scared because no-one had kissed you before. Scared because that meant no-one had touched you either. Scared because surely that made you weird, right? 

Frankie had softened immediately, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug before placing a kiss to the crown of your head. He promised to not pressure you, promised to let you do this on your terms, when you were ready. He wanted so badly to make you feel good, to show you how much you meant to him, but only when you were ready. 

“Are you sure, hermosa?” He whispers to you now as he crawls up your body, just as naked as you are, “You sure you want me?” 

You cradle his face in the palm of your hands and bring his lips to yours in a kiss as your hips widen to accommodate his frame between your legs, “Yes Frankie,” You whisper, almost as quietly as he did, “Please make me feel good again.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice. He runs his fingers through the seam of your pussy, gathering the slick that he’s drawn from your already onto his fingers before he’s using his fist to spread it over himself, he wants to make this as easy as he can for you. You hold your breath as the tip of his cock nudges your entrance and he’s looking straight through your eyes and into your soul. 

“Relax baby,” He breathes into your ear, “Just breathe for me and it’ll be okay.” 

You let out a deep sigh and watch his face as he slides himself in. He’s got one hand gripping the curve of your waist where it meets your hip whilst he’s leaning on his other hand which is placed next to your head. It’s uncomfortable, but you curse all the romance books you’d read in your life up until now for saying it would hurt, because despite Frankie’s size, there’s nothing painful about this. 

His thrusts are slow and he’s searching your face for any signs of discomfort. When you throw your head back and moans your name, he knows you’re okay, he knows he’s giving you everything you wanted, and he’s spurred on to move faster, just enough that whenever he pushes his cock back into your deliciously tight heat he’s pulling a moan from you, or your fingernails are digging into the skin of his shoulders, and then eventually you’re moving your hips to meet him. God, you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen in his life. 

He leans down and presses soft kisses to the corner of your mouth because he doesn’t want to drown out the sounds he’s pulling from you, “Are you okay baby?” He asks, “Is it okay?” 

Your hands are back on his face again and you manage to breath out, “Ohmygod, yes Frankie, it’s so fucking good,” Your turn your head to his and kiss him, “Is it okay for you?” You ask. 

He thinks it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever heard. He’s the first man you’ve ever had sex with, and you’re worried about him enjoying himself? God, where did he find you? 

“I love it baby,” He growls into your ear as his hand moves between you, rubbing at your clit, he’s sure he can get you to come again, “I love that no one else has seen you like this, that no one else has felt you before, been inside you,” He can tell from the frequency of your moans and the clench of your pussy around him that his fingers are so close to bringing you over the edge again, “They don’t get to have you, but I do.”

All of a sudden, you’re arching up into him, his name is shouted from your lips and your pussy is fluttering so hard around his cock that he has to still himself in you whilst he works you through your third orgasm. 

“Good girl,” He moans into your ear as he starts to move again, “Such a pretty girl when you come for me like that.” 

He could say anything at this point, and it wouldn’t matter because all you can focus on is how it feels like he’s set you alight. There’s pleasure in every inch of your body, your skin is hot, you’re overwhelmed but it just feels so good. It’s takes very few movements for Frankie to bring himself to his own orgasm inside of you. His hips still and you can feel him filling you up. He’d asked if you wanted him to buy condoms before he came over that night, all you had to say was that there was no need, praising the lord for your birth control pill. 

He collapses on the bed next to you, dragging you into his arms as tears prick at your eyes. You bury your head in his chest and try and hide the soft sobs, but he’s always been a clever man. 

“Are you crying?” He’s moving your chin with his hands to look at him, “Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head, “I’m just happy Frankie, you were perfection.”

He’s wrapping you up in his arms again then, pressing soft kisses to the crown of your head, whilst his hands are rubbing soft patterns on your skin, “Sleep hermosa,” He whispers, “Sleep, and then I’ll show you what else you’ve been missing.” 

[ace-and-ranty]

hello! Just finished the entirety of the scholomance trilogy in a few days (and am currently paying for it with Sleep Deprivation Headache) but like. A concept I haven’t seen get spoken about yet is the manner in which outcomes and such get played with, but like. I don’t know, the idea of another entity contriving circumstances that will ultimately result in a good or at least better outcome but first someone has to be totally miserable for a little while, and when it’s over you can’t even complain because said entity was completely right and you couldn’t have gotten there without it. It’s what happened with El with the school and the prophecy, and also probably what Ophelia was going for with Orion

Oh yes, El's and Deepthi's dynamics is profoundly tragic in that way. I think it really says something for El's family that Deepthi doesn't expect El to not complain later. She did what she did fully prepared for her grandson (El's grandpa) to hate her forever because of it, and at the end of the book it's implied neither El's grandparents, Gwen or El have forgiven her, exactly, they are all just willing to try and be a family.

It is still very, very deeply tragic, and I think it falls within a bigger theme in the series and specially in The Golden Enclaves, which is the legacies that children inherit. In a way everyone in the world is born burdened by their parents' choices. They do what they think is best for us when we just aren't old enough to decide... and for good or for worse, we gotta learn to live with those choices. Deepthi is is just an extreme magical version of it.

Like how El is called "a burdened soul" in the prophecy? She didn't choose to be the weight the universe threw to balance Ophelia's dark magic, she didn't choose to be born to parents who wanted to build Golden Enclaves... and through the book she decides, yeah, maybe she didn't fully choose to receive the Golden Sutras, it was an inheritance from her parents, but she decides she loves them anyway.

On the other hand you have, for example, Liu, who was born to the dream of Enclave building, and who was crumbling under the pressure of it, who decides, actually, she is going to be part of this legacy her way: she won't use malia and she won't stay conveniently in the closet. And Naomi mentioned, in her TGE AMA, that what will really help Liu heal is the fact that ultimately, when push came to shove, her immediate family firmly chose her over the dream of an Enclave.

And then you have Orion as well, GOOD GOD, who was an instrument of his parents' legacy much before he was a child, who was LITERALLY crushed to mawmouth jelly under their expectations.

It's all just variations on the same theme, that children have to contend with legacies they just happened to be born into.

You know, LOL. Speaking of this. Funny story. When I was in high school, my mother had to drag me, kicking and screaming, to my English classes because I did NOT want to go. Now?. Now I work translating English/Portuguese.

"Another entity contriving circumstances that will ultimately result in a good or at least better outcome but first someone has to be totally miserable for a little while, and when it’s over you can’t even complain because said entity was completely right and you couldn’t have gotten there without it"? That's me. That's me and English classes. Mom will never let me forget how right she was about it hahahahahaha.