#but if it is broken then he probably won't ever trust you again or even consider you to be a friend

[kingkat12]

art on art (eric draven x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, piv sex, oral sex (female receiving), drug mentions, nasty fluff tihi

summary: why hasn't Eric reached out after leaving rehab yet, and how long does it take for marker ink to fade?

word count: 5,272 PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

a/n: this is part 3 of my Eric Draven fanfic draw you! thanks again for the overwhelming support of this series, and enjoy!!<333

Some broken part of me never expected to see Eric again. I knew that the previous men in my life would leave the second they got what they wanted out of me, so why should I hope for this one to be different?

I had been out of rehab for exactly two weeks now, and I knew this meant that Eric was out as well. He had my address, he had my number, and he weirdly enough also had my email address... yet I hadn't heard anything from him. Not a single thing. I wasn't quite sure why my heart was breaking at the realization I had been thrown away again-- I should be used to this.

In actuality, I knew exactly why my hopes were up.

The last time I saw Eric, had been right before I was about to leave rehab. We were standing in my room, the guards no longer watching me as I was technically excused and only there to get my stuff. I was packing everything into a big cardboard box, unable to meet Eric's green eyes as he sat on my bed-- he just looked so damn sad, I couldn't bring myself to watch. 

At the same time, I couldn't believe that he was upset about me leaving; no one had ever cared for me like that before. "Why do you look like that?" I eventually asked, stuffing his drawings into a book so that they wouldn't get ruined during the move. 

"Like what?"

"Like I'm about to shoot a puppy,"

Eric snorted, a slight smile finally forming across his lips. "Just thinking about how shit these next days are going to be without you here,"

I dared to gaze at him, watching his chest rise and fall in a long sigh. Even while doing the simplest act of sitting, Eric looked downright gorgeous. His dark hair had grown even longer during the time we had known each other, which allowed slight curls to form along his forehead. Draped in pink, tattoos peeking up from the collar of his jumper, green eyes soft with feelings-- the sight was almost enough to make my breath hitch.

"Oh, you won't notice I'm gone," I mumbled, trying to lighten the mood at the same time as I tried to be discreet about shoving my underwear down into the box. "Time will fly by, don't you worry."

Eric shifted, moving closer to the edge of the bed. He stopped me from picking up the next batch of my stuff, leading my hands into his as his rounded eyes sunk into mine. "You're saying that as though I won't miss you,"

I held my breath, unsure what to say. 

Eric noticed my hesitance, squeezing my hands; "I will miss you. Do you understand that?"

Oh, I most certainly did not understand that. Not at all. But it didn't stop my heart from swelling, beating harder than it probably ever had before. It also didn't get any better when Eric led me between his legs, letting go of my hands so that he could put his against my waist. He looked up at me through his thick, long lashes, clearly trying to make me understand the longing lingering in his body. "Will you miss me?"

There was no question in my mind that I would. I'd miss him every second of every day, as I already did. However, I wasn't sure whether it was smart to tell him this, or whether that would make him lose interest like my previous flings. But weirdly enough, something told me I could trust this guy-- or was that just his pretty face doing the talking? "I will," I said, taking his face into my hands, brushing my thumbs over his cheeks in a newfound sense of affection.

Eric's previously glossy look suddenly became a hopeful one-- he pulled me even closer, my hands going up into his hair as he buried his face against the crook of my neck. 

There was something so sincere about him, that I couldn't help but smile. Even now, as I remembered it. Was I stupid to imagine that it had all been real? That he hadn't acted like he would miss me just out of pity?

This was definitely my insecurity talking. I needed to get it all out of my head-- which is exactly why I ended up going out tonight, my friends by my side as we made our way into our usual spot at the club downtown. Being back in the darkness of this place, music blasting through my ears, brought a lot of memories back; specifically the dark ones. 

However, I wasn't drinking. I wasn't taking anything, and I wasn't planning on doing so. In the back of my mind, I kept imagining a scenario where Eric would finally reach out and find me relapsed... and that was certainly not ideal. Then he'd definitely not want to be with me.

Maybe I just needed to forget about him?

And so I began trying-- it didn't take long before I sat down next to some guy trying to tell me about his life story. I had never been this disinterested in my life, allowing him to put his arm around me as I stared up at the light-show on display across the roof, lost in thought.

I wondered where Eric was. What he was doing, who he was with, where he was. Whether he thought about me at all. It quickly hit me that being sober at a club took away all the fun, and with alcohol floating around right before my eyes, I wondered whether I should bother staying sober or not. I didn't exactly have anyone to stay clean for, as I thought I would. 

And just as I was about to ask the guy next to me whether I could have the tiniest sip of his beer, I spotted a familiar tall frame across the room. I blinked several times, straightening up in my seat as though I was a woman possessed. I was sure it was him-- I immediately knew the second I saw the tattooed poem on his back peeking through the top of his shirt.

As though I had heard a gunshot, I got up from the couch, my whole body tingling with unexpected excitement. This was an adrenaline surge unlike anything drugs could give me, and it only grew stronger as Eric seemed to be leaving. 

Panicked, I sped up into a light jog despite being in heels, making my way through the crowd on the dancefloor. It didn't take long before I caught up to him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt.

Eric had a bewildered look about him as he frantically searched who it could be that had held him back from leaving. When his big, green eyes finally landed on me, they widened as he broke out into a look of relief. "There you are!" he exclaimed, his large hands grabbing my shoulders. "I've been looking for you all over!--"

I was sure I would've started crying if I hadn't reached for the collar of his shirt, tugging him down to my level to press my lips against his in the neediest kiss I had probably ever shared. I flung my arms around his neck as he pulled me closer, both of us letting out relieved sighs at our reunion. 

I wanted to stay like this forever, swimming in the bliss of being reunited with the man who had haunted my every waking thought. However, I couldn't let myself revel in the joy before I got the answer to my question; "You never called!" I said, my hands now at the sides of his face. "You never fucking called!"

Eric hummed, connecting our foreheads as he closed his eyes. "I did... just from a different number. You never answered, so I had to track you down all the way here,"

My thumbs stroked over his cheeks, my anger simmering down into a slow ache. The thought of Eric calling without getting a response made me feel worse than bad. "How?" was all I was able to say, leaning forward to kiss the tip of his nose.

Eric blushed a little before pulling away, and I was unsure whether the reason for my sudden dizziness was the loud music or his smile. God, he was gorgeous. "Our dealers are cousins," he said, wrapping his arms around my waist as we swayed on the dance floor. "And your guy told me I could find you here."

"I see," The loving look in Eric's eyes nearly made me melt— it was clear that he had missed me as well. But my questions kept coming to me; "Why did you get a different number? Is everything alright?"

With that, Eric's smile faltered just a little. His grip around my waist tightened as he brought one hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear in a loving gesture. "I... suppose there's a lot I have to tell you, now that I've come all this way,"

I could sense that this was serious— I had seen enough of those guilty eyes for one lifetime. "I see," I repeated, pulling him in for another kiss, reveling in the feeling of tasting him again. There was nothing I had missed more about rehab than this. "Let's talk it out somewhere else, then?"

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

It wasn't every day that I brought back men from the club— my policy was no men at my place at all, just in case I encountered a serial killer in disguise. But this thing with Eric was different; he could've moved in for all I cared. He could also proceed to burn it all down, rip me apart with his bare hands, and I'd let him.

However, the difference between Eric and the other men in my life was that I knew, deep down in my heart, that he would never hurt me; which is why I let him into my apartment.

I watched as Eric took a look around, his hands tucked into his front pockets as he whistled; "Quite the place,"

Shrugging, I made my way towards him as he towered over everything in my living room. "Sure is,"

Eric turned to me, a raised brow on display. "You're telling me you're loaded?"

I felt a bit embarrassed— I knew that once Eric found out the truth, he'd think of me just as all the other ones did. The spoiled girl who had nothing else to do but turn to drugs to get a high out of life. I couldn't help but grow nervous, unsure how to explain the truth to him; "Well... It's my parents' money,"

Eric nodded to himself, stepping towards me. "Are they around much? I didn't see them visiting you in rehab,"

The truth stung. "They don't want to look their biggest disappointment in the eye," I mumbled, my gaze falling to my feet. "But they make sure I'm still alive, I suppose. So it's not that bad."

There was a silence before I suddenly felt Eric's long, slender fingers beneath my chin, tilting me up so that I could meet his gaze. I wasn't sure what I was expecting to see, but it certainly wasn't this; compassion. "Their loss," he said, the emerald green of his eyes engulfing my being with unexpected kindness. "At least you got a great apartment out of it."

I let out a warm laugh, now keening against the palm of his hand as he placed it to my cheek. "I've missed you,"

As Eric smiled down at me, it was obvious that his heart fluttered at the sight of me. I had never thought someone would ever look at me like that. "I've missed you too," he breathed. "Thought about you during every waking moment of every day. You have no idea how glad I am that I found you."

I could barely believe this was real— didn't stuff like this only happen in movies? "If only I had known you called," I mumbled, placing my hand on top of his. "Being without you was just hell... What happened?"

Eric inhaled a sharp breath, an unintelligible emotion swimming in his eyes. "I want to be honest with you, but... I'm afraid you'll run,"

In a flash of desperation, I placed his hand against my heart. "I have nowhere else to run but to you,"

Eric's green eyes rounded out, his lips parting in confusion— was I maybe not the only one stunned by the confessions of complete and utter love tonight? "I— Fuck," 

With that, Eric's strong hands gripped my waist, pulling me towards him as our lips came together in a hungry kiss. The sheer force of it, along with the element of surprise, nearly had me stumbling a few steps back. But Eric only followed; I nearly moaned out as I felt his tongue against mine, my hands flying up into his dark locks and pulling him closer. I had missed him more than I had ever missed anything in the world, including drugs— all my swarming feelings of never-dying love had me pushing away all my needs for an answer from him regarding his phone, and I let my back hit the surface of the couch as Eric hovered above me.

"Missed you," he breathed in between kisses, a slight growl to his voice. Something told me Eric was trying to melt himself into me to make sure we would never be apart again— it only made my need for him stronger. I clung to him, my legs wrapping around his tall figure as I attempted to pull him even closer than he already was. 

Fuck, his lips were so soft. Deadly soft. The way Eric was nipping at my lower lip, occasionally sinking his teeth into it to draw out a whimper, was making a familiar knot form in my lower abdomen. I barely registered that my dress was gone before I watched him discard his shirt somewhere on the floor— now that we finally had time, I let my fingers run over his tattoos, smiling into the next kiss as I realized we would finally have that messy morning I was promised. I couldn't wait to lie in his arms, tracing every piece of art on his skin, taking it all in— this was heaven. Everything about finally being alone with Eric was heaven. 

"Missed you too," I eventually managed to moan out, feeling him grow hard against the apex of my thighs. "I don't ever want to be without you again." My breath hitched as Eric left wet kisses down jaw, neck, breasts, and stomach, knowing exactly where he was heading. I drew my hand towards my mouth, gently biting down to suppress a rather girly squeal. 

"You'll never be," Eric purred against my skin, sinking his teeth gently into my thigh to evoke a sound. "If you think we're ever going to be apart from now on, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours once more."

It was impossible not to smile, and I squirmed against the couch before Eric's big, strong hands grabbed my hips, holding me in place as he pressed a kiss against my clothed sex. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that he was doing this to avoid telling me what had happened in the moments we had been apart. Despite wanting to give in to the pleasure, let him tease me and keep me on the edge through the night, my mind wouldn't let me.

In the moment Eric threw my underwear to the floor, now kissing up my thighs and leaving me breathless, I propped myself up on my elbows; "Hold on," I breathed, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair in hopes of getting his attention. "Eric, wait--"

As he looked up at me through his brows, eyes wide with confusion as he paused for me, I didn't know whether I could go through with it. This moment was so damn precious, something I had been longing for ever since the moment I saw him; so why couldn't it wait? With a sigh, I laid back down. 

"You okay?" Eric asked, his thumb rubbing a soothing circle against my hipbone. "Wanna stop?"

That was definitely not it-- I let in a lazy breath, my eyelids drooping over my eyes as my body shivered at the feeling of his hot breath against my cunt. Everything about this situation was making my brain shut down. "No... I don't want to stop," My hands reached for his, and Eric let out a hum, his free hand now ghosting over my sex. "Just wondering whether you drew it or not."

"Drew what?"

"What we did in that stairwell,"

Eric's eyes sparkled with amusement as he laughed, placing a wet kiss against the inside of my thigh. "You bet I did,"

"Will you show me?"

He hummed against my skin; "Later... I'm a little busy here, as you see," Eric hooked his arms around my legs, dragging me closer to him as I yelped. I could only laugh, the realization that I had finally gotten all I had ever wanted hitting me just as I felt the warm trickle of spit running down my cunt-- my hips bucked up in surprise, my breath escaping me. I was about to prop myself up on my elbows for a second time, hoping to get a look at what the fuck he was doing, but as he ran his tongue up between my folds with a ridiculously soft touch, I could only whimper.

The memory of Eric saying he would take his time with me when we were out of rehab suddenly dawned on me-- I was in for the long run.

It didn't take long before he had me writhing beneath him, a whimpering, panting mess. With every swirl of his tongue around my clit, every time he sucked in my aching bud between his plush lips, I held back the urge to buck my hips up against him. It got increasingly hard to keep still, especially when Eric pulled away to simply breathe down on my sex, knowing exactly where he had me. 

"Fuck," I cried, reaching down to run my fingers through his hair-- I did my best not to tighten my grip, fighting the urge to use his dark locks as handles. 

I could feel Eric smiling against me, leaning down to press a soft kiss against my clit; my breath immediately hitched, bucking up against his mouth in an attempt to beg for more. His fingers dug themselves into my thighs, driving my legs further apart as he made space for his broad shoulders. I whined at the loss of friction when he tilted his head to look up at me, and a shiver ran up my spine at the look of his face, slicked with my arousal. 

A mischievous smile spread across Eric's plush, glistening lips; "Someone's impatient,"

I could feel my cheeks redden with embarrassment, lolling my head back down against the couch-- looking at him only made it worse. "Can you blame me? You're doing this on purpose," 

Eric hummed, one hand leaving my thigh to lazily rub soft circles around my clit, using my slick as a lubricant. It only made me squirm, letting out a shaky moan as my back arched slightly off the couch. Even worse, was that I started to feel a small tremble appearing in my hands. "Can't handle a little teasing?" he said, biting his lip as he watched me attempt to suppress my noises. "You keep saying you've waited for me... What happened to your patience?"

I held back the urge to simply kick him-- but that thought immediately slipped out of my mind the second Eric flattened his tongue against me, licking a stripe all the way up to my swollen clit. It was impossible to suppress the hitch of my breath, and the tug I gave his hair in response was purely instinctual. It surprised me further to hear him enjoy it; I decided to keep that observation stored for later.

I had a feeling Eric knew my mind was buzzing, that he wouldn't be able to toy with me much longer. There might've been a few giveaways that I was at my wit's end-- all of which left me feeling like an even bigger mess than I already was beneath him. "I- I can't," I whined, my words leaving me as Eric sucked me in once more. "Wait, please!--"

He hummed against me, now pressing his lips against the crease of my thigh as a chuckle built in his throat. "Fine, fine," he said, playfully sinking his teeth into my skin, his green eyes watching my every move. "I suppose I'm dragging this out... I don't know why I'm feeling nervous."

Nervous? Eric didn't look very nervous to me. "It's just me, though?" I tried, attempting to catch my breath as I laid my hand on top of his. My next words came out shakier than anticipated, especially now that he was kissing his way back up my body; "You don't need to be nervous."

Eric hummed, his large, tattooed hands kneading my chest, kissing along the hem of my bra. "It's just... When you left rehab," he started, his lips pressing along my collarbones. "I realized it took me days to recover after a dream with you in it."

The rush of joy surging through my veins reminded me of a hit of amphetamine-- it was all-taking, consuming, and I wanted nothing more than to press him so closely that we'd melt together. "Eric--"

"I've drawn you over and over," he breathed, kissing up my neck with a toe-curling softness. "In every way possible. Imagined the way you'd look at me after waking up in the morning, how it would feel to kiss your pretty little face good night..." Eric's lips hovered above mine, our shared breaths hot and shaky against one another as he continued; "I want you to burn into me like warm glass, mold into one. It sounds insane, but... how else can I ensure we stay together?"

My eyes were wide, finding his, as my hands reached up to cup his face. Like this, I finally had the time to admire the tattoo above his right brow, the deep scar on his cheek, and the tattoo above it. I stroked my thumb over the ink, holding back from connecting our lips just yet; "If you think I'm ever leaving you, I need you to scour that pretty little brain of yours" I breathed, watching his pupils dilate as I bit back a smug smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm all yours?" My fingers now ghosted over his lips, still wet with my slick, as an idea suddenly hit me. "Actually..."

Eric watched in confusion as I shifted beneath him, now reaching for the table right by the couch. There, I had left a marker which I had previously used to write a birthday card, and I took it into my hand before laying back down, looking up at the puzzled look on his face. "I'm not able to physically melt into you, but..." 

Eric's green eyes widened further, watching as I popped the cap and drew a tiny little heart on the peak of his shoulder.

I met his gaze, beaming up at him; "I can leave my mark,"

The most unexpected thing happened-- The sight of Eric welling up in tears was not something I had counted on when I let my impulses take the lead. For a second, I got genuinely worried I had overstepped all boundaries until he pinned my hand above my head and pressed a needy, passionate kiss against my lips.

I couldn't control the moan that escaped me, my hips bucking up against his, feeling his hard length grind down and brush up against my clit as our chests came together, pulling each other in as close as possible. The need I felt for Eric was undescribable, ravaging through my being-- I had never wanted anyone as bad as this. 

Mind dulled by anticipation and pleasure, I barely registered that he had managed to pry the marker from my fingers and pull it into his hand. Eric disconnected the kiss, pressing his wet lips against my cheek before propping himself up on his knees, scanning his canvas. "I'm definitely dreaming now," he whispered, mostly to himself, hovering above me as he drove the marker tip to the point where my ribs met on my chest. 

I could only smile, watching my favourite artist at work with admiration blossoming in my chest. Knowing I would be decorated with his work made me even more hot and bothered; I did my best to get a look at what he was drawing without disrupting his process. 

Eric drew a line down my chest, a few leaves scattered along it-- it dawned on me that he was drawing a rose. A beautiful, big rose, with that same scratchy style that I recognized from his previous creations. I watched him dart his tongue out, keeping it between his lips, focused; I couldn't help but find it endearing.

"Art on art," he breathed, pulling away to drink in the sight of what he had drawn on my body. Eric's green eyes found mine, his shy smile returning to his plush, glistening lips. "You're beautiful. You're so beautiful."

"So are you," I held back the urge to cry happy tears, my hands reaching out for him. "I love it, Eric. I'm scared of needles, so I won't be able to get this tattooed... Meaning you'll have to draw it over and over. Would you do that for me?"

Eric let out a choked laugh, eyes glossing over as he put the cap back on the marker, discarding it somewhere before returning to his place above me. "I'd do anything for you,"

I hadn't smiled so brightly in what felt like years. Like this, at this moment, I was sure this was it. He was it. 

Before I knew it, we were completely lost in the fiery kiss that ensued-- Eric's tongue against mine, hands lost around my waist as my fingers hooked into his dark locks, our chests heaving at one another. I was so gone, so dizzyingly aroused, that when I felt his thick cock pushing past my sopping entrance, I could only gasp. 

Eric let out a grunt, both of us moaning into the kiss at the immediate relief-- I could barely believe that this was real, that we were back as one. In a sense, this was the melting together that we had both craved so badly. 

My nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks in their wake as I let him push further into me. Eric buried his face in the crook of my neck, letting out a breathy groan against my skin when he finally moved. His cock stroked my walls the same way it had that one evening in the stairwell, the exact feeling I had chased as I buried my fingers deep inside of me every night since-- I had forgotten how the real deal had felt. How mind-numbingly good it felt to have Eric in me.

I whimpered as I felt his cock throb upwards, immediately hitting my sweet spot, and I wrapped my legs around him, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. Knowing I bared his mark on my chest, knowing he had dreamed of this as well, only strengthened the electricity running all the way up to the tips of my fingers. I didn't know how I was supposed to last long at all, especially when I heard Eric moan out my name-- I shivered, pressing my lips against the heart I had drawn on his shoulder. 

I noticed a blush creep up his cheeks before he connected our lips once more, but it was hard to kiss properly when we were both in a heavy daze of pleasure-- we ended up mostly breathing against one another, Eric's green eyes watching as I let out a string of moans with every stroke of his cock. 

"You're everything," Eric rambled, nipping at my lower lip to suppress another grunt. "You're everything, you're-- Fuck!--" His hands dug into my hips, fucking me properly into the couch as he deepened his thrusts. 

My heart fluttered in my marked chest as I realized we were both looking down to watch our union-- the sight of Eric's cock pumping in and out of me, the wet sounds of our love filling the room, was almost enough to bring me over the edge. I also caught a glimpse of the petals drawn over my body, realizing I was admiring both the art and his body against mine. 

My back arched off the couch as Eric shifted, angling his thrusts upwards-- now, he was dead on pumping his cock against my sweet spot, which had me mewling out against his lips. "Eric, I-- I'm not gonna last, a-ah!--"

With glossy eyes, I watched a smirk spread across Eric's lips; "Let go if you need to," he cooed, his dark hair now kissing his forehead as he let out a laboured grunt. "We'll go again, baby-- hah, don't worry."

That was all I needed-- my heart fluttered, realizing we had all the time in the world to fuck all through the night. 

Forever, if we wanted to.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

This was nice. Stupidly nice. Nothing in my life had prepared me for this moment.

The softness of his fingers running up my bare shoulder, the kindness with which he bathed me-- I didn't even know this existed before now. I looked up at Eric, my head nuzzled against his broad, tattooed chest as we lay in post-coital bliss. I reached out to trace the heart I had marked him with, and I wondered what else I could draw on his beautiful body.

However, I knew I had to ask the question he hadn't been willing to answer yet. I had to look past how heavy his beautiful lashes looked in his drowsy state, and how badly I wanted to reach out and trace the upward slope of his nose, to ask what needed to be asked. "Eric?"

He hummed, glancing down at me. 

It was incredibly hard to take my eyes off his kiss-swollen lips. "You never told me,"

"Told you what?"

It felt as though we'd had this conversation about three times now; "You didn't tell me why you changed your number. Or why you waited to reach out. Or, better yet, why you didn't just show up here... I even gave you my address," I couldn't stop the imminent pout appearing across my lips-- I had forgotten how upset I was about this. "I waited for you. I nearly drove myself crazy thinking I'd imagined it all."

Sighing, Eric's gaze diverted to the ceiling. "I'm sorry. I will tell you everything. Just... could I have one more day?"

"What?" Something told me that his secret was a lot more damning than I initially thought-- why was he so reluctant to tell me? Did he think it would change how I felt?

"One more day," he echoed, his tattoed hand mindlessly traveling up into my hair as his eyes glossed over.  "Just give me one more day..."

I didn't know what to say, at a loss for words. Instead, I popped the cap to the marker in my hand, realizing I wouldn't be the one to deny him his one wish. Eric closed his eyes with a sigh of relief as he felt the tip of the marker against his skin once more; time was a gift I was willing to give him.

I was willing to give him absolutely anything he'd ever want-- I just hoped it wouldn't be the death of me.

(a/n: PART 1 and PART 2 linked here<33 thank you for reading!!)

[buryustogether]

yandere alastor x fem!reader hcs

sfw + nsfw below

i have this idea that, when you were both still human, alastor married you for a marriage of convenience (probably tax purposes). he's not one for love, but he does quite like to make things easier for himself, as well as a bit of reliable companionship from someone he can trust. he found it rather cute that you were head over heels in love with him.

he insists upon keeping you at his side almost 24/7. you accompany him everywhere; to his station while he's broadcasting, about town as he runs his errands, even to his overlord meetings, though you are forced to wait outside. he knows you won't up and disappear; even if you weren't such a good little pet, there isn't anywhere you could run that he couldn't find you.

the other overlords tease alastor about his little 'pet' he keeps on such a tight leash. he doesn't ever object to this title.

gives you dancing lessons and doesn't allow you to rest until you can copy his movements exactly. if you collapse from exhaustion before that, he'll coo and brush your hair out of the way, then haul you to your feet and start again from the beginning.

he won't have you doing much other than keeping your shared home clean and occasionally cooking a meal or two. you're his darling, he can't have you wearing yourself out taking care of him. he'll do most everything - he just wants you to sit there and look pretty for him.

won't allow you to leave the table until you finish the meals he makes for you.

loves to have you hanging on his arm. you're like a precious little trophy for him to show off - only his, and no one else's.

being alastor's beloved companion makes you a prime target for blackmail and kidnappers, but he doesn't want you to fret, dear - he has it covered. his shadows are on your trail in the extremely rare occasion he's not with you, and he's killed demons for less than even looking your way.

doesn't allow any kind of modern technology inside his home or upon your person, even if you died long after him. he considers cellphones to be the property of his enemies, and you wouldn't want him to catch you wearing the symbol of the v's, now, would you?

he picks out your outfits for each day, even has them custom made at the tailor's just for you. he knows best, darling, so don't fight him on this. he doesn't want you going out looking like some common harlot, not when you belong to the radio demon.

often takes out his frustrations of the day on you at night when you're alone in his bedroom. he bites and scratches and thrashes like a beast trapped in a snare, and he relishes in having you wear the marks when he's done.

his favorite position to have you in is plain old missionary; not only is it traditional, but he enjoys having complete control over you while he bucks up into your heat.

like most animal-based demons in hell, he enters a rut once a month and rarely emerges from his quarters; which means you don't, either. at least three times a day, and he only stops to give you rest and to whisper the filthiest things you've ever heard in your ear.

enjoys bondage to an extent, but only on you. he's not opposed to pretty little collars wrapped around your neck, either.

now, when you're in the mood and he's not, he's not totally cruel. while he won't fuck you when and wherever, he'll allow you to straddle his thigh and hump his leg like an animal while he continues whatever work he was doing before.

he may often be brutal, he knows aftercare is extremely important. he can't leave his darling bruised and broken for next time, can he? licks up any blood he may have drawn and ensures you drink when you're done, even if he has to hold your back against his chest and tip your chin up to force the water down your throat. he'll usually run you a bath and, surprisingly, will gently bathe you before dressing you in the finest bedroom silks in hell and putting you to bed.

he doesn't sleep much, but since meeting you, he's replaced many of his nighttime activities with sitting at the side of your bed and watching you sleep.

alastor doesn't love; but he knows he would tear hell apart at the seams if you were ever taken from him.

[inkedbydesire]

Jealous (18+)

Jey Uso x Black Fem Reader

Warning: 18+ Content, SMUT, MINORS DO NOT ENTER

Summary: Everybody does it right? But no one ever wants to talk about it. And you damn sure don’t want to be caught doing it. Your boyfriend Joshua Fatu (aka Jey Uso) was supposed to be out of town (like always). His schedule as a Pro Wrestler kept him constantly traveling away from you. You two spent more time away from each other than you did together. But you never complained because to you, he was worth it. But you still had certain ........... needs. Most of the time you fought those needs until you were near him again but on a few other occasions, you allowed yourself to be consumed by them. And tonight was one of those nights. But what happens when Joshua comes home a day earlier than expected and finds you in your bed enjoying yourself...... without him.

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: I felt like showing Jey a little love. I apologize in advance for any grammar errors or typos.

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"I'm a liar sweetie. I cheat on niggas too. (I DO). You probably shouldn't trust me or I'll hurt your feelings boo. I don't wanna be here but my ex won't take me back so my broken ass is here small talking over apps."  

You let out an audible laugh even though you'd already seen this scene over 100 times. But no matter how many times you've binged Insecure due to it being one of your comfort shows, Issa's antics never failed to put a smile on your face. You shook your head at her nonsense before averting your eyes to your phone. You picked it up in hopes to have received a message from your boyfriend whom you messaged over 30 minutes ago telling him how much you missed him. But sadly as you looked down at your screen, there was nothing. It was currently 1:05 am so you figured he was most likely sleeping in his hotel room after a long day of press and performing in his wrestling event.

This was a weekly occurrence for you guys so this routine was familiar. But being familiar with something doesn't make it any easier. You still missed him terribly when he was on the road. When you met Joshua over 6 months ago, he was very upfront about his lifestyle before things got serious. His career kept him constantly traveling to different cities almost weekly so it was hard for him to lay down a lasting foundation. This had been a problem for him in previous relationships. He told you that he didn't want to end up hurting anyone else or himself so he had sworn off relationships for a while. You two were only supposed to have had a situationship type of thing. It was just supposed to have been two people enjoying each other's company.

But real feelings always have a way of showing up uninvited. Before you knew it you two had fallen for each other. It took you by surprise the most because you never expected to fall so deeply for a man you met in a Waffle House on a drunken night out with your girls. After a long honest talk, you and Joshua decided to try at a relationship even with all of the obstacles you both knew would be in front of you.

But truthfully, the only real obstacle was time. That was something you were already privy to before going in so you never complained. But that didn't stop you from missing the hell out of him anytime he was away. The longing grew more intense when the sun was down and tonight was no different. You were laying here wide awake rewatching Insecure with nothing but Joshua Fatu on your mind. You craved him tonight in a way that was hard to ignore.

And boy did you try.

Maybe it was because you were ovulating due to your pending time of the month. Or maybe it was just because you loved him. But whatever it was it was unbearable.

Joshua would be back in town tomorrow and would be more than willing to satisfy your needs. You knew that. But tonight...... you just couldn't wait that long. Pushing aside your comforter you got out of bed and walked over to your dresser. You opened the drawer that contained your underwear and rummaged through it for a few seconds. It didn't take long for your fingers to wrap around what you were seeking. With your rose in your hand, you retreated to your bed and quickly climbed in.

God, please close your eyes you thought to yourself before reaching over to your nightstand and grabbing your MacBook. You needed a little help getting in the mood and you knew just what would do it.

You clicked around on your laptop before reaching the private folder you were looking for. You hit play on the file then placed your laptop beside you as you slid down onto your back.

"Why are we recording this"  You heard your own voice coming from your laptop followed by the sound of you giggling.

"For fun ... for memories" Joshua's voice answered back.

Now, you weren't crazy enough to let any man get you on camera. That was one of your golden rules. But you did however mutually agree with Joshua to audio record a few of your steamy sessions. You thought it was harmless fun and now you were grateful you had them saved for moments like this since you weren't that into watching porn. You’d rather close your eyes and listen to one of your and Joshua's audios and mentally travel back to that moment.

As you heard the sound of you and Joshua kissing you pulled the oversized shirt, that oddly enough belonged to him, up and slid out of your panties. You kicked them the rest of the way off with your feet as you got more comfortable.

"I been waiting to taste you all damn day baby girl" you heard Joshua's voice say followed by the sound of him lapping up your juices. Your body shuddered at the memory of his talented tongue as you felt an urgent throb build between your inner thighs. You clicked on your rose while you pulled your legs apart. As you reached down to please yourself, for a fleeting moment you wished that Joshua was there.

But unbeknownst to you, he was only a few minutes from your apartment. In a rare turn of events, he was able to travel home a day earlier from his wrestling event than he had in mind. When he arrived back in the city nearly an hour ago, he dropped by his apartment, freshened up, and got right back on the road headed your way. He missed you fiercely and knew you had to be feeling the same way.

He wanted to call and tell you all about it but he thought surprising you with his sudden presence would be better since he rarely got the chance to do so. It pained him to ignore your message about missing him a little while ago but he didn't want to spoil the surprise. But he had a few ways in mind on how he would make it up to you.

Pulling into your apartment complex he quickly found his regular parking spot. He turned his engine off and then grabbed the duffle bag that contained a few day's worth of clothes knowing he would be staying with you for the next couple of days. He damn near jogged up to your apartment powered by his readiness to see you. When he got outside your door he put the code into the lockbox that contained your spare key. He used it to unlock your front door and then returned it to where he found it. He put his hand on your doorknob and quietly eased into your apartment locking the door behind him. He figured you might be asleep right now and only planned on waking you after he slid into your bed and wrapped you in his arms.

He dropped his duffel bag near your sofa and lightly walked towards your bedroom. As he neared your door he heard something that immediately made him stop in his tracks. He leaned his ear towards your slightly cracked door thinking that he was hearing things.

He listened for a few seconds.

No, he wasn't tripping. Those definitely were the sounds of your moans. He knew that like the lyrics of his favorite song.

Beyond curious he cautiously pushed your door open just a little further. Clearly, you were preoccupied and he didn't think you would notice and you didn't. He was able to gain a full view of your bed and what you were doing on it. You were so wrapped up in chasing your climax that the figure looking at you through the slit in your door went unseen. Through the glow of your tv and laptop, he watched your chest heave up and down and your legs shake as you pressed the rose he didn't even know you owned against your clit.

Joshua traveled so much that he figured you had to do something to hold yourself over until he got back but he never thought he'd be witnessing it. He listened to your moans as he watched your body jerk and twitch in a way he thought only he was capable of doing.

Despite the growing bulge in his pants that he had to reach down to adjust, he found that the sight filled him with unwarranted jealousy. Here he was rushing to get back to you and you didn't seem to be missing him at all. In fact, it looked like he was the last thing on your mind. He knew that it was selfish of him to expect you to wait for him to fulfill your sexual needs but part of him wished you did. If anyone or anything was going to make you shake and moan like that he only wanted it to be him. He felt like it was his job and right now you were giving it away.

As he kept his eyes on you he fought extremely hard against the urge to burst into your room to ruin your moment. He knew that you might be agitated or even mad but he would make it up to you by making you cum countless times like he was known to do. And that would set everything straight.

He hesitated for a long while but ultimately with reluctance decided against it.

Taking a step away from your door he waited until he heard the high-pitched moan of you cumming before he walked back towards your front door. Unlocking it again he grabbed the doorknob opening and closing it louder to get your attention. He had plans to bring up what he saw but not just yet. 

Your eyes jolted open from your state of bliss at the sound. Still feeling the effects of your climax you sat up as quick as you could manage and reached over and clicked on the lamp beside your nightstand.

"IT'S ME." you surprisingly heard your boyfriend Joshua's voice yell. You were relieved because, for a split second there, you thought it was an intruder. Joshua was not supposed to be showing up to your apartment tonight.

The distance between your front door and bedroom wasn't that far so you had no time to find and put your panties back on. They were somewhere tangled in your comforter and sheets. But you did have time to slide your rose underneath your pillow, throw your comforter across your lap, and close your laptop before Joshua neared your door.

"Hey baby........ how are you here?" you asked him as he entered your room. You knew that he had one more night away from you so you were a little confused. But maybe there was a change in plans that you didn't know anything about.

But the hows became irrelevant as your heart swelled at the sight of the man you loved.

You wanted so badly to jump into his arms but your legs were still weak from what you were doing no longer than 5 minutes ago. You didn't want to risk wobbling or falling. That would definitely tip off to Joshua that you were in here up to no good. And you didn't want him to know that you were just in here masturbating. It seemed immature but you would be so ashamed if he found out.

You thanked God that he didn't show up to your apartment just a few minutes earlier or he would've caught you right in the middle of the act.

You pushed those thoughts aside as you watched him step out of the Nike slides he had on before walking over to your bed and standing there.

"You not happy to see me?" He asked you. The way it came out sounded like he had a little bit of an attitude. You were clueless on why he would have one with you so you ignored it and chalked it up to you over analyzing the situation because of what he almost caught you doing. And you knew he was most likely questioning your happiness to see him because you didn't dive into his arms like usual. On any other day, you would've been out of your bed meeting him in the living room.

"I'm always happy to see you, Josh." You answered him with a reassuring smile. You couldn't physically show him right now so you had to choose the right words.

"Umm .....  what you doing up this late though?" He asked you.

"Couldn't sleep." You responded.

"So what you been doing to pass the time?" He asked squinting his eyes at you a little.

"I've been watching Insecure.....  like always" You answered him jokingly as you pointed towards your TV where Issa's crazy life was still playing out on your screen.

"That's all?" Joshua asked while raising his brows at you.

As your eyes remained locked on his you weirdly started to feel like you were under interrogation. You searched your brain but couldn't figure out what for. But it definitely seemed like Joshua was trying to get something out of you.

What though?

The only other thing you were doing before he showed up felt too personal and embarrassing to say out loud so you had no plans on disclosing it to him.

"Yep.... that's pretty much all," you replied to him lying while you shrugged your shoulders. Joshua stared at you for a moment longer before walking over to the side of the bed that you were on.

"That's funny 'cause that's not what I saw." He stated as he sat down near you.  His words caused your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach but you had to keep your composure.

"And what did you see?" you asked him already feeling like you knew the answer but needing the confirmation before you started freaking out. Without immediately responding Joshua just looked into your eyes with a smirk and it all started making sense. You felt like you were being interrogated earlier because you were. Joshua already knew the answer to everything he was asking you because he already knew what you had been up to.

You wondered how in the hell did he know though ....

After a few seconds of shuffling things around in your brain, you put two and two together and figured Joshua must've come into your apartment a whole lot earlier than he made known. You were so consumed with pleasuring yourself that your apartment could've been on fire and you wouldn't have moved a muscle. So you damn sure didn't hear him entering your apartment or coming near your door. You noted to yourself that you needed to be more attentive the next time or at least tackle the basics like closing and locking your damn bedroom door. But you weren't expecting Joshua tonight so you didn't think you needed to be that cautious.

"I didn't even know you had one of those things," Joshua said bringing you out of your thoughts as he reached beside you and started running his hand over your comforter. When he didn't find what he was looking for there he then moved towards your pillows.

"Okay." you quickly said while grabbing his hand before it made contact with your rose. It clicked in your mind that that's what he was feeling around for.

"If you already knew what I was doing .... why you come in here like Inspector Gadget?" you asked him.

The thought of him seeing you in that intimate moment was sending waves of crippling embarrassment through you. Joshua was your boyfriend and had seen you in way more compromising positions but this whole ordeal was still awkward as hell to you. Discovering that something you thought you were doing in private wasn’t as hidden as you thought is a deeply embarrassing feeling.

But you still wanted to be mature about everything.

"I just wanted to see what you would say. No wonder you in here acting like you didn't miss me. You got me replaced." he said.

You searched his face for more amusement because he was clearly getting a kick out of all of this but to your surprise, he actually looked rather serious.

"Wait ... you accusing me of replacing you with an object?" You asked him after you two silently stared at each other for a few minutes. This realization overshadowed any embarrassment you felt about the situation. Now you understood why he seemed to have had an attitude with you when he first entered your room. He saw you with your rose and got jealous. It was taking everything in you not to laugh in his face.

"It's okay for you to enjoy yourself when I'm not here. I understand it. But I'm just saying you were enjoying yourself a little too much." He stated still serious as a heart attack which made it a lot harder to contain your laughter.

"Josh you're not being replaced." You chuckled as you placed your hand on his shoulder to reassure him not believing you actually had to do so. You couldn't believe that this was a conversation you two were actually having.

"I only pull it out when I miss you and I can't stand it anymore," you told him.

"I don't think you understand how badly I want you when you're not here Josh" you added with honesty as your eyes locked on each other's. Yeah, there were certain things you could do to try to pacify your desire for Joshua but nothing compared. So for him to feel a way about an object was bonkers to you. But at the same time, you found it kind of cute.

"I'm here now." Joshua responded to you.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" you asked him playfully as the atmosphere in the room shifted.

"Let me show you," he stated as he reached down grabbed your leg, and pulled you closer to him on the bed.

"My bad for coming in here tripping but it was because I missed you, baby girl." He admitted before leaning over and placing a small kiss on your forehead. You smiled at him as he moved down and pecked your nose before moving to your mouth. You two then fell into a kiss that had the passion of two people who hadn't seen each other in years rather than a few days. You relished in the moment knowing you had to make the most of any time you got with him. That was the basics of your relationship. Every single moment counted because he would be on the road again in the blink of an eye.

As Joshua's hands roamed all over your body he tilted his head down and planted soft kisses on your neck. As he tossed your comforter aside he moved back up to slip his tongue into your mouth.

A couple of intoxicating minutes later, Joshua broke the kiss by standing up leaving you needing way more from him. He then posted up on the side of your bed and you giggled as he reached down and pulled you by your ankle to position you in front of him. You then had the pleasure of watching him as he pulled off his hoodie and shirt all in one swift motion. As you took in how absolutely fine he was your inner thighs throbbed needily. Sometimes all it took was just looking at him to leave you soaking.

"Lay back for me Y/N." He requested and you eagerly did as you were told without any hesitation. You scooted up on your bed and laid back in front of him as he positioned himself between your legs. Staring down at you while running his tongue across his lips, he placed one of his hands on your thigh. He slowly trailed his hand up glazing your clit with his thumb which made your legs involuntarily jolt because you were still sensitive from what you were doing earlier. He ran his thumb up and down your clit teasing you for what felt like ages. It made your wetness grow but it also frustrated you. Then he left you feeling desperate and depraved again as he took his attention off of you for a split second to rid himself of his pants and boxers.

He held his dick in one of his hands while he pushed your legs further apart with the other as he repositioned himself. You sucked in a sharp breath as he ran the tip of his dick up and down your entrance coating it in your wetness. Again, he did that for what felt like ages while you laid there desperately needing more.

"Josh" you breathed out his name as he lifted his dick and tapped it down on your swollen clit.

"Please" you urged him as he repeated the same motion with more pressure making you squirm and reach down to grab hold of his wrist.

"Please what?" He asked you while flicking his eyes up to yours. You knew that he knew full well what you wanted but he loved to play this game. He loved to get you a position where you were practically begging for his dick before he gave it to you. And each time you would feed into his ego.

"Fuck me, Josh .... please" you begged with a pout giving him what you knew he was seeking. He smiled down at you and before you could say another word or prepare your self he suddenly gripped you by your hip and sank his full length into you. But you soon found out that Joshua wasn't done with playing with you yet as he pulled out of you and went back to teasing and tapping your clit with the tip of his dick. You laid there beyond frustrated but felt satisfied when he slipped into your wetness again.

"Fuck" you muttered lowly as he eased in and out of you slowly making your body shudder with every stroke.

"Feels good baby?" He asked you as he kept that same deliberate speed while his dick continuously glazed against your g-spot. You nodded at him as you gently bit down on your bottom lip.

"Say it," he told you as he slipped in and out of your wetness.

"It f-feels good Josh. It feels so fucking good." You expressed to him as you felt pleasure filled knots building in the pit of your stomach. Closing your eyes you focused on trying to hold off climaxing as you grew wetter for Joshua as his speed quickened. Your eyes only flew open again when you heard the familiar buzzing of your rose. You looked up at Joshua wondering when and how he managed to reach over and locate it without your knowledge. But you were so drunk on feeling him inside of you that your mind was completely preoccupied.

"W-what are you doing?" you were barely able to ask him as he didn't miss a beat fucking you. His still plunged in and out of your entrance as he held your rose in the hand he wasn't using to hold your legs apart.

"I wanna try something." He responded.

"Try wh-" you began to ask but were completely cut off by Joshua bringing your rose down onto your clit. Now you could handle your rose on its own but combined with Joshua's dick rocking in and out of you, you almost started seeing stars at the sensation.

"J-Josh ... wait ....oooh fuck ..." you moaned out as you reached down and attempted to push his hand away not being able to handle the pleasure. Your attempt failed miserably as Joshua didn't budge. He continued to pound in and out of you as he used your rose on your clit.

"I c-can't J-Josh" you whined out to him as your toes curled and your legs violently shook. You felt tears welling up as your breathing became shallow and your heartbeat accelerated.

"Yes you can ... you got it baby"  Joshua encouraged you as he pounded deeper and deeper into your wetness. You tried to take it but the feeling was too powerful for you to comprehend causing your climax to hit you like a tidal wave out of nowhere. All kinds of profanities left your mouth as it felt like you were having an out of body experience.

Joshua was satisfied as he watched you lose yourself as you squirted cum all over his dick. That's when he knew he could use your rose to his advantage. 

[perfinn]

translate your vibration

rugby player!soap mactavish x reader

wc: 3.1k

summary: you're a fieldside medic for a rugby league team and you care a bit too deeply for one of the players. he cares right back

cw: NSFW, f!reader, medical inaccuracies, oral (m receiving), oral (f receiving), johnny's face is covered in blood, medical malpractice too probably, semi-public sex, johnny is lowkey concussed so dubcon just to be sure (but he wants this trust)

special thanks to @kitkatscabinet for helping this come to be!

read on ao3, divider by saradika

“Ye come here often?”

It takes everything in you not to laugh at Johnny’s obvious attempt at flirting. Not because he’s misguided or the advances are unwanted– truly, you wouldn't mind at all in any other circumstance. Only right now, you’re trying to assess him for a concussion. That, and he’s still got his mouthguard in so paired with the blood dribbling from his nose, his words are a garbled slur. 

“Stop moving, Johnny,” you tell him, handing him another cloth to press to his bleeding nose– broken again, you’d wager. You’ll get to that in a moment. 

“‘Am no,” he mumbles, lifting his head when you tilt up his chin and giving you a charming grin. Even with the mouthguard and a twisted nose, he’s still the most handsome man on the team. Which, given your own penchant for beefy rugby-type men, is saying something. “Just askin’.”

“It's not helping your case, then,” you say, gripping his jaw tighter when he tries to move again. “Because you know good and well I come here often. I’m your medic.”

“ Mine ?” Johnny echoes with a somewhat-delirious chuckle. “Och, I’m lucky then, have ye all to maself.” 

You want to correct him, to tell him that you're technically the whole team’s medic, but you don't. You let him be, and instead reach to grab a light to check his pupils. He does manage to hold still as you shine it into his eyes, though he’s helped along by your firm grip on his jaw. His pupils react normally, but you’re still concerned. 

“How are you feeling?” You ask, taking a seat across from him as he finally spits out his mouthguard and presses the cloth to his nose. “Head pounding?”

“Aye,” he says, and you frown as you watch the cloth steadily soak with blood. “But it has just been knocked off my shoulders. ‘Am not seeing  two of you, if that's what you mean. Wouldn't be complainin’ if I were, mind you.”

You hum in response, seeming dubious. You suppose that's good, all things considered. Flirting aside, if he is concussed, it's not deeply serious. Still, you’re concerned. But you know Johnny. He loves to play, loves the game. And he’s one of the best players in the club. You glance behind you at the screen that's playing footage of the game, biting your lip. You can see how desperately Johnny wants to get back out there, he’s practically buzzing in his seat. So somehow, you’re going to have to break it to him that you’re keeping him off the pitch for at least the remainder of this half. Naturally, he’ll be a nuisance about it. Whine, complain, probably beg you to reconsider. Part of you doesn't want to deal with the guilty feeling those puppy dog eyes envokes. 

So, you stall. 

“And the nose?”

“Fuckin’ kills,” he confirms, lowering the rag and grunting in satisfaction when no more blood drips free. “Broken.”

“Again,” you sigh, moving to stand up again. The fact his nose has stopped actively bleeding does loosen the vice-like grip of worry that’s wrapped around your ribcage. He’s breathing okay too, which loosens it again. Still, though, it’s suffocating. 

(You shouldn't worry so much about Johnny. He’s been knocked around far more than you could ever handle and played through much worse. But you’re a bit selfish when it comes to Johnny… you care about him more than you ought to as a professional.)

“Cannae complain when it means I get to see ye,” Johnny says with a cheeky grin as you put your fingers to his nose. “I like it when ye dote on me.”

“You won't like me in a second,” you say. He laughs shortly, and you suppose that he assumes you’re talking about setting his nose. In a way, you are. But that's not why he’ll actually be miffed with you. He’d probably never be miffed about setting his nose anyway, he knows it's a necessary pain. 

You give him a smile, gently prodding at his twisted nose to get your hands in the right position, and you don't bother giving him a countdown. Instead, you break the news to him as quickly as you can manage as you snap the bone back into place, “I’m keeping you off.”

“ Fuck ! Yer what?!” Johnny rears back in his seat with the combined impact of the pain and the sudden information. You step back, wringing your hands together as he blinks harshly. You’re sure there’s dots in his vision from the pain, and once his head clears enough he’ll process what you’ve said. 

“Bonnie,” he says slowly after a moment. The sweet name makes your stomach twist in a strange anxious delight. “Tell me yer joking.”

You give him a sheepish smile, unmoving– and he knows you won't budge. He also knows how much his coach trusts you, and if you say he’s out, he’s out. His coach won’t put him back in if you say not to. But you know he’ll argue anyway. “Until the next half, at least. I need to keep an eye on you.”

Johnny groans deeply, sinking down in the chair. He growls your name, and you’re a tad ashamed to say it goes right to your core. 

“We’re only 20 minutes in, I’ll miss half the game! You cannae-”

“You’re staying off, Johnny,” you say firmly. When you’d started on as the Eels’ medic, you’d been a bit shier. But you’d learned quickly that these men were hardheaded in more ways than one, and being shy and timid would get you nowhere in enforcing their safety. So you took note from their coach and got tough with them. It earned you the respect you needed, and also the trust from their coach in knowing that you could handle them. “And you know I won’t be changing my mind. Now if you want to go back on at all, you’ll behave.”

This earns you another groan, but the growly tone of it says something entirely different than the last one. You feel your cheeks warm, and hope to god he doesn't notice. 

“Talkin’ dirty won’t make me forgive you, you ken,” Johnny says, knuckles pressed against his closed eyes. “Ye really won’t budge?”

“You know me better than that.”

“Aye, I do,” he sighs, dropping his hands and lowering his lidded gaze to you. “Lucky yer sweet talking me, lass. Wouldn't be so forgiving otherwise.”

It's not a threat meant to be taken seriously, you know. It's a threat that does something else entirely, but you hurriedly stand and clear your throat. Professionalism, you tell yourself. It's the backbone of your career. To be surrounded by hot, burly, virile men all day and not do anything about it is a god damn superpower. 

“Price will be as disappointed as you are, but he’ll let you watch from the bench-”

“‘Am no going out there,” he says, standing up with less hurry and far more care. Despite his protests, he is heeding your warnings and taking care with his head. “Can watch the game from in here. Got another way for us to pass the time.”

You stop as you’re turning toward the door, glancing back at him while he inches closer to you. “Johnny…”

You know exactly where he’s hoping to go with this. And as much as you want to – god, you want to – you truly can’t. You’d lose your job. Probably lose your licence if the powers that be were feeling extra annoyed by it, and absolutely shatter your reputation in the process. 

But then… that’s only if you get caught. There’s no security cameras in the locker rooms– there isn’t allowed to be. There’s 20 minutes left of the half, no one’s going to come in here until then. You could. You could do it, and be done with it before anyone notices.

(You’re obviously being intentionally naive in thinking you’d ever be satisfied with just one taste of Johnny, but for now it’s the only way you can rationalise it.)

“C’mon, bonnie.”

You turn back round to face him, bouncing a bit on your toes. “We’ll need to be quick.”

Johnny’s bloody and bruised face lights up with a toothy grin and he nods dutifully as he closes the distance between you both. He lifts his hand to place it on your cheek, his palm warm and rough against your skin. “Cannae tell ye how much I’ve thought about this.”

You laugh a bit, staring up at him. You don’t mind so much that he’s still a bit covered in his own blood. “This is so unprofessional.”

“Aye, it is.”

He doesn’t waste another second before he’s putting his mouth on yours, teeth clacking against yours with the desperation and intensity of his kiss. You hear yourself make a soft noise of surprise, or something akin to that. It’s hard to say, hard to organise your emotions when your brain only wants to focus on Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.  

He’s intoxicating. If being around him and simply being flirted with by him was as addictive as it was, actually kissing him, touching him beyond just treating his injuries, is heroin. He’s backing you up toward the lockers before you realise it, moving his hands from your cheeks down to your body. His hands explore you with no inhibitions, his rough hands squeezing at your tits. He groans into your mouth, pulling his lips away from yours to look down.

His forehead presses to yours as he takes in the sight of your body. Of course, you’re fully clothed and it’s nothing he’s never seen before, but it’s the fact that for this moment it’s his.

(Johnny is well aware that half his team wants you. Maybe more than half, but half of them had openly expressed it. While you’re gone, while they’re winding down in the locker room. But none of them could pull it off. None of them had seeped through the cracks in your professionalism and found their way into your pants. But Johnny had. He had barely even started with you, and he's already thinking about how he might gloat about it.)

“Fuckin’ gorgeous, bonnie,” he mumbles, pressing a short kiss to your lips. “Would love to take my time with ye.”

“Me too,” you breathe, arching into his touch as he gropes at your tits. “But we can’t.”

“Aye,” he says, a scowl creasing his bloodied face. “Bloody tragic. S’alright, lass, next time.”

Part of you wants to say there probably shouldn’t be a next time, which is true, but your brain is already surpassing its ability to form sentences– and the idea of denying yourself of more Johnny sounds like a nightmare right now. You can’t even entertain the thought, not while Johnny is pressing his bulge to your leg, groaning as he shamelessly ruts against your clothed thigh. 

“What d’you want, bonnie?” He asks, voice breathy, almost growling in your ear. “Tell me. I’ll give it to ye.”

You have to bite your tongue to prevent yourself from asking him to fuck you outright. You’re not entirely sure why you don’t say that, actually. Maybe it’s the time constraints, or maybe it’s his cock pressing against your thigh, but fuck, you want to taste it.

“Let me suck you off,” you demand unceremoniously. Johnny chuckles, likely at your commanding tone, but nods as he presses a kiss, then another, to your neck.

“Christ,” he says between heated kisses. He seems almost disappointed to let you sink to your knees, leaving his mouth unoccupied. He almost starts panting as he sees you stare up at him from your knees, reaching for the waistband of his shorts. “Yer fuckin’ perfect. Goan then, lass, then I’ll give that pretty pussy of yours the treatment it deserves after, yeah?”

Nodding along to his ramblings, you tug his shorts down and find yourself disappointed as you come face to face not with his cock, but with his compression shorts. The both of you groan, and Johnny almost tears them off in his desperation to remove them, cursing the shorts under his breath– you bite back the urge to remind him of the medical benefits of wearing them; besides, any thought you have is cut off by the sight of his cock, hard and leaky, springing free. 

It's beautiful, which is a strange thing to say about a cock, you know, but there's little else to describe such a pretty thing. You wrap your hand around the base, licking an appreciative stripe along the underside of it. 

“ Fuuuuck ,” Johnny groans, hand falling gently on the back of your head. Not pushing, but just resting there. “Good fucking girl.”

You take the head of him into your mouth, gazing up at him as you begin to take him deeper, bobbing your head along the length of him. Johnny’s head hits the wall as he moans freely, seemingly unashamed of the idea of being caught. He’s lost in the warmth of your mouth, and you can't much blame him, because you’re lost in the weight of his heavy cock on your tongue. 

Johnny’s eyes are lidded as he turns his gaze down to watch you, and you feel his thumb rub gently over the back of your head as you take him deeper, stopping about halfway down his length, and just stroking what you haven't fit. 

“S’alright, bonnie girl,” Johnny mumbles, voice low. “Dinnae have to take me all today, we’ll work at it, aye?”

His muttered promises make you moan, and that makes him moan. You go back to bobbing your head, the locker room filled with the lewd noises of your mouth. 

It doesn't take Johnny an exceptionally long time to start reaching his end, his hips twitching as he holds back on the urge to fuck right into your mouth. He has the self control to care for your comfort at least. 

“Gonna- fuck , lass, can I come in your mouth?”

Were it anyone else, or any other situation, you’d probably say no. But it's Johnny ; and right now the two of you can't exactly afford to deal with a mess. You hum your affirmative, and apparently the slight vibration of it is enough to have him coming. You see the muscles of his lower abdomen tense before you feel his hot release spill onto your tongue. You take every drop, even when it begins to feel a bit much. When his body relaxes and he leans back against the wall, you pull away and swallow, making Johnny groan lowly. 

“Perfect,” he praises, gently guiding you to stand before kissing you again. He licks into your mouth, tongue laving over your teeth like he’s trying to taste himself. Only as you lean to return the favour, he’s flipping the both of you around so your back is against the wall and he’s kneeling before you. 

“Promise is a promise,” he mumbles, tugging eagerly at your leggings. You can tell he’d love nothing more than to rip them from your body, but he exercises enough self control to just drag them down to your calves, your panties going along with them. 

The position isn't ideal, but Johnny’s enthusiasm isn't hindered. He spreads your legs as far as the leggings will allow, one thumb tugging your lips aside. He groans, leaning forward and inhaling deeply. His nose brushes against your clit and you whine, cheeks warming at the lewd gesture. 

“Johnny,” you urge, threading your fingers through his mohawk and tugging gently. Johnny moans. Then, he shuffles forward on his knees and presses his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue over your dripping pussy. 

One of his hands grabs at your thigh as he licks you, slurping desperately at your slickened cunt. Another tug at his mohawk draws his focus to your clit, which he sucks into his mouth with an appreciative groan. Even when he can't talk, Johnny is incredibly loud; there would be no hiding this from anyone listening outside the door. 

He sucks at your clit, hand moving from your thigh to slip a finger into your cunt, making you moan before you slap a hand over your mouth. Johnny’s eyes open, and his eyebrows furrow. 

He pulls away, despite your whined protest, and takes a short breath. “Lemme hear ye, lass,” he encourages. “Don't hide from me.”

“Johnny,” you begin to protest, cutting yourself off with a gasp when he eases another finger into you and curls them right against a spot that has a loud moan falling from your parted lips. 

“That’s my girl,” he praises, ducking right down to graze his teeth over your clit.

His mouth combined with his rough fingers is driving you mad, making you squirm in place as pleasure begins to sear the ends of your nerves. 

“ Johnny !” You cry, head banging against the wall as your orgasm hits you without warning or much buildup at all. It feels as though it's been punched out of you, making your body tense and tremble for a few good seconds, mind floating miles above your body. 

When you return to earth, Johnny has pulled his fingers from your pussy and has them in your mouth, his nose pressed against your clit as he ruts his hips against his hand. You're entranced watching him rub himself through the overstimulation, fingers in his mouth and bruising nose in your pussy. It's only a few more moments before Johnny spills into his fist, a guttural groan muffled by your cunt. 

He sighs, pressing a loving kiss to your pussy. Then, he pulls back, face shiny with your slick, and looks up at you, grinning lopsidedly. “Alright, bonnie?” He asks, like he hasn't just jerked himself to a second orgasm on his own. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, words like laughter. “Are you?”

He nods, shuffling awkwardly to his feet and looking at the mess on his hands. Pants still around his knees, he shuffles over to your medical supplies and gets himself a tissue, wiping his hand off before tugging up his shorts. 

He returns to you, who’s struggling to stand, and gently tugs your pants up for you. He kisses you, softer and sweeter than before, and smiles against your lips. “Ye were perfect, bonnie.”

You hum, shifting your legs so that your underwear doesn't press wrong against your oversensitive cunt. 

The door opens before you can respond, and the first person inside is Johnny’s coach, John Price. The two of you must have somehow missed the siren in the heat of your joint pleasure. The bearded man takes in the scene of the two of you standing so close, and the slick on Johnny’s flushed face, and a heavy sigh leaves his lungs. 

“Fucking hell, MacTavish.”

[plusvanity]

What’s your take on Pelle wanting a romantic relationship irl? Do you think it’s something he would’ve wanted? Or was he afraid that he was too odd for someone to accept him? (I don’t know if that sounds harsh). Since you think that he was sensitive.

Btw I love your analysis girl 🫶

I'm not so sure about relationships, but I firmly believe that he wanted to connect to someone, somehow.

In terms of friendships, I think Øystein was the closest friend he had (at least during his time in Norway), but even so, Pelle didn't open up much for various reasons that include the environment in which he was at that time and most probably trust issues. Talking at some point with Old Mayhem, she described an 'invisible wall' between Pelle and his friends/ the world and I couldn't agree more. It feels like Pelle would've wanted this meaningful connection with someone, anyone, but unfortunately, he didn't manage to form it. I genuinely think this had a massive contribution to why he took his own life.

I don't know if he would've wanted a relationship because a relationship comes with a lot of stress and pressure for being in a commitment, attending someone else's needs, etc, but he definitely felt alone and forgotten in this world. After all, he wrote in his last lyrics 'No one will ever miss you'. He longed to be seen, to be given attention and importance. There are a lot of signs of emotional neglect in how he developed, but I will try to keep it short. I consider him as being in the autism spectrum and a relationship would most likely feel overwhelming, especially since he would lack experience, confidence, etc. But if I have to imagine him in a relationship, I can only imagine him being with someone patient and calm.

People with strong trauma responses, PTSD and those who suffer from personality disorders need a partner who is a bit more mentally equipped to manage stressful situations than your average Joe. To see improvement in Pelle's mental health, he would need a very patient and mature partner.

Love can heal a broken heart. I am one of those people who believe that no matter how broken you are, if you find someone to love you for who you are, someone who is willing to accept you with all of your inner demons, with the the good and the ugly, you can start to heal. Currently, I'm following this process myself. The human brain can be programmed and re-programmed. We are very adaptable to our environments and if we make our senses realize we're not in danger anymore, we can finally allow ourselves inner peace. This is why I believe that Pelle could've been saved.

Hypothetically speaking, Pelle would have a hard time adjusting to a relationship. He was quite rigid, stubborn and unwilling to change for others. To make a relationship work, you need to make some compromises. Another aspect that I want to point out is that Pelle had outbursts or 'episodes' of impulsive behavior when he was living. That would be a serious problem. Øystein (and Metalion, if I remember correctly) had to literally hold Pelle down when he suddenly wanted to 'go to Transylvania'. The question is: Would someone be able (and willing) to deal with this again and again? He would definitely need psychiatric treatment, but would he accept that? There are so many factors that would make dating Pelle a real challenge. I also believe that he was suffering some sort of perceptual delusion. I won't call it Cotard's syndrome since it is not recognized in the DSM and since we have very little information about it, but my honest opinion is that he might have had something more that just depression and I'm kind of pointing towards Major Depression with Psychotic Features. If you believe something else, that's fine. Everyone does their own research and reaches their own conclusions.

I do think he was sensitive and there would've been room in him to grow positive feelings towards someone, to form a meaningful connection and learn to trust again. In the end, it doesn't matter if he would've had a romantic partner or a best friend, he would've liked to form a bond with another soul, someone who understands him, respects him and is there to stay.

I imagine him as being very honest, capable of showing tenderness, being mindful, quiet, contemplative and trustworthy in a meaningful relationship.

Sorry for my late response, I had an awful weekend.

[bananastarion]

Rambling headcanons about how Astarion's trauma could manifest in your relationship.

Disclaimer: I am not fetishizing trauma or PTSD here. I have C-PTSD myself, and have dated others with it as well. So some of this is (loosely) inspired by my own experiences. It's not pretty, it's not fun, but I'd say it's pretty realistic. So yeah, fair warning! Anyway, let's gooooo

Astarion isn't fazed by much, but he IS claustrophobic- having to claw your way out of your own coffin, being trapped in a mindflayer pod and being trapped in a tomb for a year straight would do that to anyone. If he is ever unfortunate enough to be stuck in a small space again, he'll go into a blind panic. He'll hyperventilate and try to force his way out any way he can, and if he can't get out in time he'll just completely mentally shut down for a bit. If you plan to pull him into a little broom closet for a sneaky fuck, just forget it ok? You will probably get your eyes accidentally clawed out.

There is a long period in your relationship where Astarion is gradually getting more comfortable with being vulnerable around you, but he's also very self-conscious about it. He doesn't want you to pity him or think he's weak. You will be tempted to give him lots of validation and praise to make up for all of the psychological abuse he endured, to reassure him that he's finally safe and free, and that you love him for more than just his body. That his problems won't ever drive you away, and that you don't judge him. He appreciates your words deeply, he wants and needs them more than he cares to admit. But at the same time, they completely overwhelm him. Finally being in a good place with a caring partner is such a stark contrast to what he's been through, that it forces him to see even deeper into the void inside him and recognize just how badly he was treated, how deprived he's been. They hit him hard in both good and bad ways, and sometimes he'll tell you to stop because he just can't handle feeling so much right now. It's best to stick to mostly surface level stuff and ease carefully into the deeper, more meaningful observations.

The sweeter your words, the more his mind races with fears that you are idealizing him and eventually you'll come to see him for what he really is- and then abandon him. Fears that he'll come to depend on your kindness only for it to be ripped away, whether by you or by circumstances beyond his control. Fears that you don't really mean it, that you're just manipulating him the way he did to others. Deep down he hopes and trusts you're sincere, but it's just so hard to accept when Cazador's voice is in his head, countering all of it. This is all so new to him, so unknown. And the unknown is terrifying. He gets frustrated that your kindness does this to him, he wants to be able to embrace your words, he's so impatient to heal and finally be over this shit already. He judges himself so harshly for still struggling with all this. Cazador's dead, he is free, he has someone who truly loves him- why isn't that enough?! Why can't he fully appreciate it, is he just going to feel broken forever? He worries he'll take too long to get over his past, and you'll get tired of it and leave. Expect to give him lots of reassurance about all of this.

He doesn't like to cry around you, but over time you will lower his guard enough that he'll stop fighting back the tears quite so much. Sometimes it's a bad dream, sometimes you say something that just hits him hard (even if it's in a good way), and sometimes he has no idea what triggered it. You tell him he can wake you up any time if he needs you, but often he chooses not to wake you and just suffers through it alone. When it happens while you're both awake, at first he would roll over and face away from you when the tears started flowing if he couldn't collect himself, and you'd just hug him from behind. But eventually he feels comfortable enough to bury his face in your chest and just let it all out. When it's really bad, he'll be trembling and hugging you so tightly as he sobs into your shirt that it's almost hard for you to breathe. The best thing you can do is just be there with him, stroke his hair, caress the tears off his cheeks. It can be dicey, but eventually you learn to read him well enough that sometimes stroking the scars on his back very gently can be healing for him. There are other times though, when this will be too much for him. Same goes for kissing. Also, don't even think about telling anyone you've seen him like this. But of course, why would you?

Don't go into therapist mode with him when he's that vulnerable, and if he decides to talk, just let him talk. Hold space for him and be there with him. Afterwards, help ground him in the present and reconnect him to his senses by pointing out things in the room, remind him that it's not all happening to him right now. Realize how special it is that he feels safe enough with you to be so vulnerable. There are times when he even breaks down during sex, and he'll say that he's fine and you can keep going, but it's for the best to stop what you're doing and check in instead. He often dissociates when he's triggered, and doesn't realize something is wrong until it's too late.

Trauma isn't always pretty, and there are times when it does strain your relationship. When he's really triggered, he might take it out on you. He'll try his best to push you away, and say terrible things he doesn't mean. Perhaps things Cazador said to him. His articulate manner of speech can be sharper than his blade when wielded against you in the heat of the moment. He doesn't believe you can love this side of him, that he is fundamentally broken and unlovable, so it's a test of sorts to prove his own fears. He doesn't necessarily realize what he's doing, he's just lashing out from a point of pure fear. Trauma is an explanation for this behavior, but not an excuse, so it's important you set very firm and consistent boundaries when he gets like this. He might not appreciate it in the moment, but he will once he calms down.

It takes some time for him to feel truly secure with you, but he's getting there. In the meantime, he's starting to get a little clingy and codependent. He's not used to having so much freedom, and doesn't always know what to do with himself when you're not around. Being in your presence is when he's closest to feeling safe and at ease, and being apart for too long can cause his mind to race, especially when he has nothing to distract himself with. It drives him crazy that it gets to him so much- he's never been dependent on anyone before, and this side of him surprises himself. He hates it, which only stresses him out more. He tries to play it off, but it's very obvious he is struggling with separation anxiety. You don't want to overindulge him, but to ease his fears you decide to get a pair of magical rings. You can make each other's rings glow whenever you want- so if Astarion is feeling lonely, he can make your ring glow and you can make his glow back. Sometimes, just that is enough to get him through a rough day without you. Once he has done some more healing, eventually he will come to enjoy his alone time in a way he's never gotten to before in his life, and as much as you enjoy spending time with him, you'll be so happy for him to finally have that.

[windmaedchen-oceanhorn]

I have found the strength to draw one (of two) OCs for AFK Journey. So let me record a few details about her here.

Lavinia

Close childhood friend of Valen. Her father was an Imperial Knight stationed there (Stoutstone Isle) but died on duty in her early childhood years. Since then she dreamed of stepping into her father's shoes, bravely (and angrily often) tagging behind Valen to prove she was no less than him, despite being nearly 3 years younger. Sometimes even managed to kick his butt!

Left for the capital at 11 with her mother. She hated the city and missed the island (and her friend), but then found the Heroic Order and saw that girls were allowed - and then didn't think of anything else.

She had agreed with Valen that they'd meet again as knights but he never showed up and so time passed. On occasion she'd discuss with her mother what he might have been up to, not knowing that he's been in Holistone the past few years.

Her design was influenced by the two other Imperial members Guywin and Joey. She isn't meant to have any special rank, but somehow the design looked bland without the touch of gold.

Her story would be experienced as some extended side quest. At that point she's been through stupid stuff and hit rock bottom. She hid in the Ashen Wastes for a few weeks, before Berial senses her despair. He grants her continued life in exchange of being entertained... so now Lavinia is returning to the capital to follow up on her dark thoughts and assassinate the current leader of the Heroic Order.

She would not actually be wearing her uniform, but some rags she got in Mauler territory a few weeks prior. Only after the side quest is over she'd be seen in uniform again.

Valen's got to attend an important meeting of the Solitaries in the capital, and Merlin joins for the opportunity to see more of the Lightbearer Empire (and refresh her memory). They run into Lavinia on the road and travel together for a bit.

"Who the heck gave you permission to grow into such a stud of a man?!" "The same entity that made you grow pretty beautiful curves. You actually look like a girl now!"

Then lots of things happen. xD Friendships rekindled and broken again. Attempted murder in broad daylight and witnesses.

Truths are being shared, faith and trust are lost. Futures put on line. Hypofiends and a Hypogean in the middle of the capital!

Valen nearly throws the towel on the Heroic Order.

Corrupted Lavinia versus Valen (and others)

Berial is causing chaos but escapes from Merlin and the celestials.

The leader of the Heroic Order ends up very dead. Lavinia lives, somewhat against her expectations and wishes.

Hogan saves the situation, at least he tries to.

The Happy End is not missing, though: while leaving behind the capital for good, Lavinia continues to serve under and among better men in Holistone. ;-)

Due to previous events, Lavinia's life is dependent on Berial's grace. She's also got some perks due to that but she'd much rather not have anything to do with a Hypogean. Thankfully, he forgets about her until I need more drama many years down the line. xD

And finally... she wouldn't be a playable character ever, her skills are boring and greatly overshadowed by Valen or even Guywin. I might think about her stats in the future but since that part of the game isn't what sparks my interest, I probably won't. *shrugs*

Thanks for reading. :-) Until next time! <3

[mikedfaist]

So, while being broken up I assume she wrote some songs bout the situation and one day, after a few weeks of being reconciled with Mike he asks her if she’s putting any of them in a probably future project and asks her to show him a bit. Any thoughts???

Oh, she for sure wrote some stuff. She probably tries to stay out of the studio in those first weeks of getting back together, so she can actually focus on reconciling, but she does spend some free time writing. He doesn't pry, but I also don't think he asks about it. Whenever she writes anything about him, even if it's not explicitly about him, she asks permission from him, and even lets him read the lyrics (if he wants).

He always said, "If the song paints me in a good light, I don't care what you do with it."

Now, it's a little different. They aren't rage anthems by any means, and she isn't trash talking him in the slightest, but there is obvious pain, and uncertainty, and questionable doubt. He knows what she's been writing about without having to say it.

When she's ready, she does approach him about it. At first, he declines to read any lyrics. He trusts her. She would also never say anything bad about him for the entire world to hear (or ever, for that matter).

For most -- if not all -- of her projects, nobody outside of the studio hears it until release day, which includes Mike. He experiences it alongside with the rest of the world.

But he does listen to the break up songs.

He didn't think he'd care, and quite frankly he didn't care for a few weeks, until she comes home late from a studio session, dragging her laptop into bed.

"For the sake of my conscious, please just listen. If you don't like it, I won't touch it again."

She really didn't plan on releasing any of the songs she wrote, but after a jam session in the studio that ended up getting sent to the label, the wheels were turning and now a potential single is on the table.

It hurts him hearing the song, and he tries to hide it, but it's inevitable. She was hurt, but the song was beautiful. It's not often he's cried in front of her, but fuck.

"You have to release it."

"Okay, but that doesn't answer me question--"

"You have my permission."

(Song in question is All I Want by Kodaline.)

[twigg96]

If u havent already done it,, hcs for dethklok w a very physically affectionate s/o ? Like one that is always down to cuddle n stuff

Hello my sweet Anon! No I haven’t written anything like that yet!! I hope you like these HCs

Nathan - While Nathan himself is a gigantic teddy bear who is touch starved beyond belief. He does find the act of being propositioned with cuddles and touches to be bloody vomit inducing for several reasons. The first being that cuddles and intimate touches took just that... intimacy. And truth be told Nathan wasn't the best when it came to that realm of being. Sure he could pretend. But he hated how nervous he became when his leg touched his partner's, uncertain if the tingles of excitement he felt were ever reciprocated. He hated how sweaty his palms became holding his SO's knowing full well that they could feel just how moist he was becoming just thinking of where that could lead. Marriage and kids of course... and he hated that his mind took him down a futuristic rabbit hole that got his heart broken more times than he ever realized. But his partner... never seemed to mind. Their head on his chest during movies they listened to his heart beat and breathed with him through the panic. Kissed his sweaty knuckles and eased a hand over his bouncing knee. They whispered that they were scared too. But that was an important part of intimacy no one ever talked about. The anxiety and the fear that came with every touch the one that eased with time and with every breath shared until it was hardly noticed anymore and soon two souls became one.

Pickles - The little drummer was not a man who was overly touchy to begin with. People could thank his abusive parents and sketchy past for his fear of intimate touches. He'd duck away from a hug faster than most at the beginning of a relationship. He wasn't repulsed by touches. He'd probably even pull his partner in for hugs and cuddles. But he had boundaries he expected his partner to understand and respect just as he knew his partner had their own he would respect over anything else. There were times that he would pull his partner into his embrace all day. Most of those times alcohol or other substances were involved, other times he or his loved ones were in a heightened emotional state. He hugged people the tightest then with all his heart and soul. He held them to tell them he was there. He wasn't going anywhere. Burying his face in the crook of their neck, his beard scratching against the skin of their neck he held them tight to help them relax. And when his asthma hit and his anxiety washed over him the most was when he needed his partner to step in and return the favor.

Murderface - William likes to pretend that he is as macho as they come. And sure he pretends for a while. He pretends that he's a sexual extraordinaire, has a 20 meter defeater, and lives without a single fear in the entire world. He pretends for a while when he first meets his partner... because he never expects to catch feelings. He ever expects to see them again. But the fact of the mater is... Murderface is entirely too scared... for much of anything when it comes to anything intimate with his partner especially when he starts a relationship with his partner. It takes a long time for him to open up to his partner. To let them touch him so intamatly and with so much trust that they won't hurt him. Because the truth of the matter was that was what he was scared of most. Getting close. Comfortable. Then being discarded and forgotten like yesterday's trash. He hated that feeling. He hated it more that he had grown used to it. So when the couple were watching one of his favorite movies... maybe a boring documentary and his partner's full attention was on the screen not on their phone, not talking to some other guy... he felt himself grow comfortable... wrapping his arm around their shoulder he pulled them close kissing their temple.

Skwisgaar - For the Swede cuddling and touching came in the form of sex so often that he became complacent to the idea that cuddling only came to those in the throws of passion. When his partner tried to hug or hold him in public it sprang to life a problem the blonde had to either excuse himself to the bathroom for. Although many times he simply would try to pull his partner into the alleys and closets to get some alone time. One night when his partner comes to bed they wear the most revealing clothes they could find, crawl into bed and cuddle up close to him, their fingers ghost his skin as they lay sweet kisses across his collar bone, neck, and jaw. Just when Skwisgaar is positive he's getting lucky, his partner pulls away. Touch therapy. That's what they call it. They want to retrain his brain into learning they can touch him without always getting laid. At first he fights the idea. Then his partner cuddles close once more telling him to close his eyes. He does, not because they said so of course... but because he was getting blue balls and it hurt... But... eventually he understood. The quietness, the sensuality without the sexuality... it was nice. Comfortable.

Toki - This boy is just as touchy feely as his partner. It makes other people uncomfortable how clingy they are to each other. Stage 5 clingers would not be a stretch to describe either of them. Velcro Partners. If they're seen apart it's not because either of them want to be alone.

[totheseok]

seunghan thoughts because I miss him

so we've all seen that video where they were playing the huge jenga

and when it fell he reached to kind of break its fall so that it wouldn't hurt shotaro

so I'm imagining that like

it's really common that he gets hurt a bit in the process of helping others and then brushes it off

imagine he comes home after filming that episode, maybe he's staying at your place for the night, and u see a small bruise, scratch or cut on his hand and ask about it

and he's probably just like "oh it's nothing the jenga tower fell and I got hurt a bit"

btw if you've ever had even the normal sized tumbling tower fall on your hand that shit HURTS ok the amount of times I've gotten bruises and cuts from them *shivers*

point is he tends to put other people before him

he's definitely the type of person to start picking up the larger pieces of a broken glass while waiting for someone to get a broom, just so no one else gets hurt

even if he gets hurt in the process

:(((((((((((((

imagine his s/o, you, then taking care of him cus he always does it for others

side note I just KNOW he loves hand kisses

but he wants to take care of you :(

it's just a big adorable wholesome mess with both of you babying each other

he's also SO attentive

he'd definitely keep small things about you in mind

like maybe you mentioned a snack you liked growing up and this man goes out of his way to find it and mass purchase it (like an Asian dad)

or you mentioned a book that seemed interesting when u visited a bookshop while out with your friends

Trust he's bought every book in that series for you the next day

maybe u said u ran out of catfood

when he comes over the next day, he's got a bag of the catfood

and it's tye one you use cus he checked

10000% has a period tracker for you on his phone

stocks up on snacks, pads and heating pads a week beforehand in case it shows up early

definitely the type of person who doesn't want you to consume too many painkillers because of the side effects but he won't stop you when you need them

he definitely try to look for natural pain killer recipes (as someone with horrible cramps, boiling black seed in water and drinking the water while it's warm is a VERY effective pain killer)

he strikes me as the type to pay attention to what you don't like doing and tackles those things before you

like maybe you hate doing the dishes and so when sees dirty dishes he gets to cleaning them before you can even think about it so that you wont have to

he definitely listens to you rant about your favorite book or show

even if he hasnt watched or read it

he will always listen and he loves it

he'll listen to your theories about what will happen next

and listen to you rant about how the second lead shouldve been end game

he also knows all of the tea

like omg your friend's ex is texting her again

is it pineapple or orange?

its GRAPE?!?! no way

i could honestly go on about this for hours but i'll stop here for now

[petrichor-idyllic]

Hi Petri <3, so this request is a bit longer than the other's so bear with me (and my broken English lol). I was thinking about a Minho x fem!reader where she's from maze B and is close friends with Aris, so she's with him in the whole cafeteria scene where he gets introduced (while the boys are excited about the food, beds, girls and etc. and Thomas is having a bad feeling about that place). She's more positive about being there than Aris cause they been through a lot and she just want a little rest, but when she sees what that place really is she's terrified and is willing to do everything to get out, so Minho sees this fire in her and kinda likes it. (I don't know if it made any sense 😬, but I trust you to make a good fic out of it)

Oo, I do like more plot-driven requests like this, they give me more to work with :))

DECEPTION IN LIBERATION

MASTERLIST | MINHO MASTERLIST

SUMMARY: See above. Movie based fic.

WARNINGS: Inappropriate language, violence, teenage boys still not knowing how to act in the presence of a girl, WICKED spelt WCKD because movies, Rat Man aka Janson, probably innacurate Group B slang thanks to Wikipedia.

Just 'cause you wouldn't know the characters' names doesn't mean I don't, so the Gladers' names are used before you meet them. Because there is no way this would work if I couldn't use their names.

You'd escaped the Maze.

Finally, after all this time, you'd escaped, and now you were safe. The years of torture and stress are now behind you and you can finally start to heal.

Your friends are safe. You're safe. And so are an entire group of teenagers who apparently went through the same things you did. WCKD definitely had big plans, but that doesn't matter anymore.

It's over.

At least that's what you think.

You playfully nudge Aris. The measly boy sits next to you, hoodie hiding his face as he stares at the table in front of you. You guys escaped the Maze first, meaning that you were the first to arrive. They keep taking people away; Aris' best friend Rachel was one of the first.

And he's been distant ever since.

You've been keeping an eye on him. Though, it is hard trying to spend time with the boy when he barely speaks nowadays.

You nudge him again. "C'mon, Aris, you've been avoiding us for-finching-ever." He scoffs, shaking his head. "What's goin' on?"

"You won't listen to me, so what does it matter?" You sigh, shuffling slightly and swinging your leg over one side of the bench to look him at him straight.

"Of course I'll listen to you. What's going on?"

From a few feet away, the Gladers have started talking to boys from other groups, and have taken note of Aris.

And therefore, you too.

"Who's the girl he's with?" Minho ask the unknown boy, eyes fixation on you.

The boys shrugs. "Just some chick he was in the Maze with."

"Lucky shank," Frypan chuckles.

Thomas, however, takes note of Aris. He's not like the other people that are sitting around and chatting. He's reserved, sunk low into the table and not even looking at you as his hood hides him.

"Aris," his eyes flicker to you, "I'm always gonna listen to you- talk to me."

He hesitates but takes a deep breath. "There's something wrong here," he mumbles, his voice barely a whisper.

"What do you mean?"

"Something is going on- the Guard's are armed, our friends keep getting taken away, and..."

"And?" You push him to continue and he shuffles closer.

"Don't tell anyone, please."

You start to feel anxious. This is getting weird. "Okay."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"At night, I've been sneaking through the vent tunnels-"

"What?" You hiss. "That's so dangerous."

"I know, I know- but they go all over the building, a-and they take people into this... room that I can't get into. There's something weird going on. I know it sounds weird and you won't believe me, but-"

"I believe you," you trust Aris, and he's smart, so if he thinks something isn't quite right, then chances are something isn't quite right. "But what do we do?"

"Teresa!" Both of you perk up as you watch Thomas, who you're yet to know, stand up from his table, marching over to the doors to try and follow a girl behind some windows.

He's quickly stopped by some guards, but he's clearly agitated.

"Maybe he could help?" You blink at Aris. "We need all the help we can get. I'll show him what I mean- you too."

○ ○ ○

If you knew when you'd escaped the Maze that you'd end up stuck in another round of twisting and confusing corridors in the form of the vent system, you might've actually killed someone.

Aris, on the other hand, seems happily at home as he crawls around the tight spaces.

You're awkwardly crouching around the corner whilst Aris goes to get this Thomas kid.

After a few seconds, your friend reemerges, with the boy hot on his heels. He blinks at you and you give an awkward peace sign before Aris hurries him along.

"Come on."

You both follow him through the vent system, Thomas in front of you.

"Hey, wait a second." Thomas grumbles, clearly questioning how he gets himself on these situations. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Come on, we're gonna miss it," Aris says.

"Sorry," you answer instead, "he thinks you might be able to help- he reckons something weird's goin' on here. I don't really know."

You crawl into a more open area- even you don't really know what's going on.

"What are we doing?" Thomas asks again and it's kind of funny that he even came in the first place.

"Shh. Come here," Aris waves you both over. You both hover over an open-ish vent that looks down over a corridor.

One of the doctors appears, following by a strange trolley that seems to have a person in a body bag with a screen over the face. The screen shows vitals and other medical information, making you and Thomas exchange concerned glances.

"What the hell was that?" Thomas asks for the both of you.

"They bring in new ones every night like clockwork." Aris answers.

"What do they do with them?" You ask, even though you probably already know the answer.

"I don't know. This is as far as I've ever gotten. The vents don't even go into that section. But once they go through that door, they don't come back out." Aris pauses, visibly shaken. "I don't think anyone ever really leaves this place."

"C'mon," you say, "we gotta go before someone notices we're gone."

"Why'd you show me this?" Thomas asks, stopping you both.

"Because maybe the others will listen to you. There's something weird going on here- I know you think so too."

"Hey, wait," you stop again, "what's your names?"

"Aris," your friend answers, "and this is (Y/N)."

And with that, your friend crawls ahead.

"You're Thomas, right?" He blinks at you. "I heard some of your friends say it in the cafeteria."

He nods, and you offer him a reassuring smile. "It's nice to meet you, Thomas."

○ ○ ○

Janson reads out more names of people as you sit in the dining area. Apparently, Aris and Thomas spoke briefly earlier- they have some kind of plan regarding a key card.

You're, quite frankly, scared to watch.

Thomas has told the members from Group A what he saw, they seem skeptical at best. But, they seem to be a strong group and with most of Group B gone, you have little choice but to hope Thomas can convince them.

Thomas suddenly stands up, storming towards the doors and trying to blend in with the people's whose names were called.

He's stopped fairly quickly.

You can't quite make out what's going on, but when a guard sharply points into Thomas' chest, you're already on your feet.

"(Y/N)-" Aris hisses, but the plan isn't going to work if Thomas gets himself in trouble. You can't let this go south.

Thomas pretends to walk away, before turning and diving into the guard. All of the Gladers are on their feet in seconds, jumping to Thomas' defence.

"What the hell's your problem, man?" Thomas shouts as he gets shoved again and you dive in.

Pushing the guy back, you stand protectively in front of the boy. "Back the fuck off, man- you think shoving a kid around makes you tough?"

The boys exchange glances.

Who is this girl? Where did she come from? How come she's helping Thomas? Why does Thomas get all the girls? What is happening?"

"Control your friend!" The guard yells just as Janson bursts through them.

"What's happening here?" Janson seems lost for a second as he looks at the boy. "Thomas? I thought we could trust each other." He touches the boys shoulder and you go to step forward again, only for Thomas to slightly put his arm out, stopping you from intervening.

"You know we're all on the same team here."

"Are we?" Thomas asks.

Janson seems irritated by this and you ball your fists. You could punch this guy and give the Gladers an easy distraction- it would give them and Aris time.

You think about it until a hand grabs your wrist. You look up and meet the eyes of an Asian boy. He's tall, tanned skin and dark, swept up hair. He's handsome, but something in his dark eyes is telling you to stop.

And for some reason, you do. Relaxing your muscles, but returning your attention to Janson- Minho doesn't let go.

"Get them to their bunks."

In a matter of seconds, you're all separated. You just about manage to get to Aris before going to your separate rooms- agreeing to meet at Thomas' vent.

You can hear bickering as you approach, just catching Aris before he knocks down the vent.

"Hey, Thomas," he says casually.

"What the...?" You catch from one of the boys.

"You got it, didn't you?"

"Yeah, yeah, let's go. Where's your friend?"

"Right here!" Your voice echos on the metal from behind Aris. "Getting real finchin' sick of crawlin' around, though."

"Alright, maybe you guys are right," Thomas says to his friends, "maybe I'm just paranoid. But I gotta find out for sure. Just cover for me, I'll be back as soon as I can."

Making the same trip as last time, Aris and Thomas jump down out of the vent, with you staying up there to help them get back up again and keep watch.

You anxiously crouch, watching as you wait for the boys to return.

"C'mon, guys," you mumble to yourself, fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

What feels like hours passes, but it couldn't have been more than five minutes, when Thomas and Aris burst out of the room. Both of them are clearly worked up.

You open the vent. "C'mon!" Offering a hand, they struggle back up, but eventually they join you again. "What happened?"

"We gotta go," is all Thomas says, "we gotta go!"

The boys are rapid at getting through the vents, Thomas bursting into his friends room. He, quite literally, throws the vent cover across the room.

"Thomas!" Someone shouts as he frantically scrambles into the room.

"We gotta go! We gotta go right now!" Thomas says as you and Aris both struggle out of the vent, still yet to have an explanation from either of them.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Minho, whose name you're yet to learn, asks.

"What do you mean 'we gotta go'?" Newt adds on, all of the boys in a frenzy.

"They're coming! Come on! We gotta go!"

"Thomas! What's going on?" You try to grab him but he brushes past you, grabbing things and starting to try and block the door.

You look at Aris, who is completely shook to the core so there's no getting anything out of him.

"What happened?" Frypan yells. "Aris, what happened?" He shouts at the timid boy, getting too close.

"Don't shout at him!" You pull him away. "He's terrified! He ain't gonna tell you klank!"

"Thomas! Can you just calm down and talk to us!" Newt begs, the whole room in a frenzy.

"She's still alive!" Thomas says.

That's ominous.

"Who's she? Teresa?" Frypan asks.

"Who the finch is Teresa?" You ask.

"Ava." Thomas is blunt now.

"Ava?" Newt repeats, watching his friend desperately try and tie the door shut. "Will you just turn around and talk to us?"

"It's WCKD!" Thomas snaps, turning around to face you all. The group freezes. "It's still WCKD. It's always been WCKD."

"Shit," scrambling to help, Thomas seems almost relieved that someone else is doing something as you help him move a mattress to block the door.

"Thomas," Newt stops him. "What did you see?"

Thomas gives a very vague explantion- a video call with Ava Paige and bodies strung up and being tested on.

That's all you guys need to start your escape.

"Come on, let's go!" You usher all the boys towards the vent, letting them go before you.

The Asian boy from before is last, hesitating for a second.

"Ladies first?" He says.

"Minho!" Someone from inside the vent shouts. "Not the shuckin' time, man!"

"Go," you tell him and he obeys. At least you know his name now.

Thomas somehow ends up leading the way as you all try to fight through the crawl space.

He breaks out into a corridor you don't recognise, the rest of you hot on his heels.

"Come on! Come on!" He ushers you towards him. "Okay, okay, let's go!"

"You guys go ahead, there's something I gotta do," Aris states and you look at him.

"What are you talking about?" Thomas steps towards him.

"Trust me, it's important. You guys wanna get outta here, right? Just go."

"I'll go with him," one boy offers.

"Okay, Winston, go! Go!" Thomas takes charge, and you learn another boy's name. "Come on!"

You hesitate, watching Aris start to take off, you go to follow him but Thomas grabs you. "You're with us, okay? Stay close."

You're reluctant, but you nod.

"You sure we can trust this kid?" Minho asks.

"You don't wanna know where we'd be without him," you're glad to hear that Thomas has faith in your friend.

You turn a corner, immediately bumping into the same doctor you saw earlier. You all freeze.

"What are you kids doing out?" She asks.

Then the sirens start blaring.

Which is enough of a hint, I suppose.

"Move," you demand, stepping forward and grabbing the doctor. She struggles, but you grab her wrist, twisting it behind her back and pushing her in front of you. "You're gonna show us how to get outta here."

The boys exchange looks once again. But, Minho smirks- he almost impressed at this point.

"Let's move."

The group starts the make their way down the halls.

"We gotta get Teresa." Thomas states.

"Who?" You question him. "Who is that?"

"A friend."

"A friend? Seriously? We- oh, finch it, I don't know who any of you guys are either."

"I'm Newt, if that helps." The blond says.

"Frypan."

You look at him. "You're called Frypan?"

"I'm-"

"Yes, I know who you are, Minho."

Rounding another corner, you're almost immediately met by gunshot. You're quick to retreat, letting go of Dr Crawford as she also ducks for cover.

"They're shooting at us!"

"No shit!"

You back away, running in the other direction when Minho suddenly stops.

"Minho!" Thomas yells. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Minho!" You yell as the boy starts charging in the direction of the shooter.

Just as he rounds the corner, Minho jumps, kneeing the guy in the chest and causing him to crash into the wall, knocking him out cold.

All of you, including Crawford, run over, staring at the guy on the floor in some kind of awe.

"Shit, Minho," Newt says and you snort.

"Not bad, stick," you grin at him, watching as he smiles himself, "not bad at all."

Thomas grabs the Launcher, using it to direct the doctor as you make your way to this girl you don't know.

"Dr. Crawford," a scientist says as you force her to pretend to open the door, only for Thomas to follow her and everyone go into a panic.

"Where is she? Where is she!" Thomas is pointing the gun at anyone and everyone as they put their hands on their heads.

He passes the gun to Minho as he rips away a curtain, revealing a girl.

"Get down!" Minho yells. "Get down, now!"

The scientists and doctors all get on the ground as Newt starts tying their hands together to deem them less of a threat.

"You're never gonna get away with this!" Doctor Crawford threatens.

"Yeah?" You scoff. "Watch us."

"Guys!" Frypan, who's watching the door shouts. "They're coming! Where do we go?!"

"Frypan! Move!" Newt pushes over a medical table, shoving it in front of the door just as it's nearly forced open.

"Get back!" Minho grabs your wrist, pulling you behind him along with his friends. "Get back!" He points the gun at the door, keeping you all protected. "Okay! We gotta get outta here! Where do we go?"

"Everybody stand back!" Thomas yells, picking up a chair and slamming it against the glass window, only for it to bounce off. "Newt! Help! Help!"

The boy grabs another chair. "Ready?"

At the same time, they smash the glass, sending shards scattering everywhere as you use your hand to shield your face.

"Go! Go! Go!"

It's a blur of action and yelling as you all try to climb out of the window.

"Hurry! Go!" Minho yells, lingering back before tossing the Launcher to Thomas and jumping over himself.

"Stay behind me," Thomas instructs you all as he opens the door, revealing another Guard.

Which he immediately shoots.

In a burst of sparks and electricity, the man hits the floor, his body seizing and twitching uncontrollably.

You're stunned for a second, but you recollect fairly quickly. Running past the guy, all of you break into a sprint, eager to escape as you near the exit.

"There it is!" Reaching the door, Thomas tries the key card, which denies access.

"Shit! Come on!" Thomas begs. "No, no, no!"

"Thomas!" You spin to see Janson making his way down the corridor. Handing you the key card, he raises his weapon, walking towards them.

"Open the door, Janson!" He yells.

"You really don't want me to."

"Open the damn door!"

"Listen to me!" The Rat Man snaps. "I'm trying to save your life. The Maze is one thing, but you kids won't last a day out in the Scorch. If the elements don't kill you, the Cranks will. Thomas, you have to believe me. I only want what's best for you."

"Yeah, let me guess, WCKD is good?"

Whilst this exchange is going down, you're desperately trying to open the door. Both Newt and Minho stand by your sides, pushing and grabbing at the door to see if that does anything.

"You're not getting through that door, Thomas."

As if the Gods themselves were listening, the key pan suddenly lights up green. Whirring as it rises, it reveals Aris and Winston standing there.

"Hey, guys," Aris says and relief washes over you.

"You crazy bastard," you laugh. "Come on!"

"Thomas! Come on! Let's go!" Newt yells.

Thomas starts shooting, the amo quickly running out, so he launches the weapon towards them.

Janson barks orders down his radio and the door starts to quick close.

You all start to yell words of encouragement, pushing Thomas as he starts to bolt towards the door. He hits the floor, sliding aross the mouth surface as he slips under it.

"Move! Move!" Aris slams a pipe into the pad, breaking it as the rest of you grab as many supplies from nearby as possible.

You're in some kind of warehouse area, all of you sprinting towards another set of giant doors; WCKD personnel flooding from all areas.

You reach them first, pulling on a handle and having to cover your face from flying sand as they open.

Running out into the desert, all you can do is tell each other to keep moving, and that you'll lose them in the storm. It's dark and windy and hard to run.

Following the girl, she finds a building buried in the sand, and you're the first to following as you slip into the shelter.

Eventually, you all have a moment to catch your breaths, using a flashlight to illuminate your new surroundings.

You're too busy examining to listen to Thomas' full explanation and the Gladers' arguing.

Eventually, they come up with some plan to find the Right Arm and you find footsteps.

You start moving, deciding to stay close to Minho because he has the best light source.

"You were pretty good back there," you attempt to make some light-hearted conversation since you just risked your life with this kid.

"Yeah? You weren't so bad yourself." You chuckle, accepting his compliment. "I, uh, I never caught your name."

"What? Tommy-boy didn't tell you?" You raise an eyebrow and Minho shakes his head.

Even in the dark, it's easy to see how attractive the boy is. He's well built and effortlessly charming. And impressive from the stunts he pulled before.

You might just develop a crush on this kid.

"(Y/N)."

He hums in response. "I like it; (Y/N), really rolls off the tongue."

You roll your eyes, but hearing him say your name does make you feel a typa way.

The feeling is mutual, too. Bold and quick-thinking, but also caring and easy to talk to. Not to mention you're easily the most attractive girl Minho has seen (which isn't many but that's not the point.)

"Minho! Quit flirting with the new girl and give us a hand!" Newt shouts, making you try to repress a smirk.

"I wasn't flirting!" Even in the dim light, you can see Minho's reddened expression.

"Sure, you weren't!"

Confident and smooth, but easily flustered.

Good to know.

He turns to you. "I wasn't flirting."

You grin. "Uh-huh."

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out and he ends up looking like a fish out of water.

You snort. "Yanno, you can flirt with me, if ya want to. I don't mind." You playfully wink at him, unsure if he can even see it before you jog off, catching up to your friend.

He watches as you throw an arm over Aris' shoulder before he puts an arm around your back.

Minho stands there, grinning like the Cheshire Cat before dropping his head and shaking it to himself.

"Okay, lover boy, c'mon," Thomas says, having watched the whole exchange, "you're with me."

"Shut up, shank," Minho playfully pushes his friend, "don't you wanna be with your girlfriend, anyway?"

"I should be asking you that." Minho rolls his eyes.

But he smirks.

Okay, so, not quite as good as some of my other pieces and there's barely any romance, but that tends to happen with my pieces that I have to pull the movie up for lol.

Yeah, okay, maybe he likes you. After all, you can't really nearly die with a hot girl without catching feelings, can you?

Maybe a part 2 is in order again? Well, you guys will have to let me know about that.

I hope you enjoyed :))

[call-sign-shark]

The Gentle Art of Terror

summary: Jack and Eva Nelson have an unpleasant encounter during a posh party. Her name? Tina Cacciatore, Luca Changretta's right hand. || Based on the "ask about your OC and mine to receive a one-shot + small moodboard". Also exploring Eva being scared is super cool. (@evita-shelby)

Words: 1.5k

“What are we doing here?” Eva asked, her sly and perfectly manicured hands tightly wrapped around the American’s muscular arm as they navigated in the dim light of the damp wine cellar. Warm but feeble lamps were hanging from the concrete ceiling, softly swinging from left and right at each gust of wind, casting their yellowish hue on the walls. The sumptuous witch’s voice was underlined with a palpable annoyance for she didn’t understand why they should waste their time in this shit hole while one of the most expensive parties ever held in Boston was taking place two stories above them. Jack Nelson‘s only reply was a little “shhh” before he walled himself in silence again, his green eyes surveyed his hostile surroundings with great attention. Even though the letter stipulated that their encounter would be peaceful, only aimed at discussing the terms of territory limits, Jack didn’t trust the man for his life of his. While merciless as an enraged bull and sly as a fox, he knew far too well that Luca Changretta, the most efficient soldier of the Spinetta’s family and the one rapidly climbing the Mafia’s highest ranks, wouldn’t shy away at the idea of slicing his throat at the slightest moment of inattention and Jack couldn’t have that. Even less when his mesmerizing wife, as powerful as him but embodying his only weakness, was with him at this moment.

“Jack.” She called him, her tone firmer as to remind him she wasn’t some kind of docile trophy wife but a Queen who could have almost everyone eating from her cursed hand. The sole power of her voice made him oblige — Nelson pinched his scarred lips in a thin line before replying.

“Remember when I told you Changretta wanted to talk? Well, here we are,” His gaze, usually hard and unyielding, softened at the sight of his wife’s expression, which was a combination of surprise and discontent, “I told you to stay at the party.” 

“And I told you I’m not some meek girl. If you are in trouble so I am, and I won't hesitate to make the fucker atone for the sin of thinking about harming you.” She stated, unbreakable and with the fury of a harpy. To this, Jack couldn’t help but grin: if the situation wasn’t so dangerous he would probably have fucked her right here, right now. With every day passing by, Eva’s reactions comforted him in the decision of belonging to her and only her. 

“Let’s stay careful. I don’t know where Changretta is… Might be as well looming in the dark and waiting to attack—“

“Oh. He’s here.”  She cut him off, one brow raised, her face composed but her gift of Clairvoyance unpleasantly rattling against her bones at the unpleasant sight. In a profound, almost animal instinct, She dug her nails into Jack’s thick sleeve as she felt her husband’s entire body tense when his eyes met with what she saw.

Luca Changretta stood against the wall like he belonged there, a tall and slender figure made of shadows. The swinging lamps of the ceiling threw their warm light at his face, bringing out his sharp traits, accentuating the hard line of his jaw, the predatory gleam in his eye, and the charisma he effortlessly exuded. With an air of casual indifference, the Capo was leaning back, his arms loosely crossed — Surprisingly, his posture was rather relaxed, while still bearing something threatening, like a panther that could spring to action in a blink the moment it smelt blood. A toothpick rolled lazily between his teeth as he carefully watched a third man across him, a man tied to a chair, his form broken and pathetic for he had been reduced to little more than a shell of fear and trembling flesh. 

Eva froze, an imaginary alarm ringing relentlessly in her brain as her genius mind quickly put two and two together —no blood on his face or on his ridiculously pricey tailored suit, a rather long distance from the victim: There was someone else. And that someone was responsible for this twisted scene, probably under Luca’s commands, but if so where was that monster?  Jack should have had the same thought for he quickly checked his surroundings to make sure no one had trapped them but, hopefully, there was no one. However, the echoing footsteps of the powerful couple had drawn the mafioso’s attention for a fleeting second. His piercing green gaze, shining in the dim light, flicked to them and paused just long enough to make sure they understood that he saw them—really saw them. Then, a grin slowly spread across his face in a chilling, knowing smile that curled his lips and reached his eyes in a way that was anything but friendly.

“Good evening, Mr.Nelson. I didn’t expect you to come to our little meeting in such a good company.” He finally said, his smooth voice slightly resounding in the cellar as he nodded at Eva’s direction to acknowledge her presence. Enemy but still a gentleman. As unexpected as it was, Luca wasn’t particularly surprised considering how skillfully manipulative and equally dangerous the new Mrs.Nelson was. Another shiver ran down the Mexican beauty, who couldn’t help but shift their focus from Luca to the tied-up victim, sobbing in muffled and exhausted squeals through the cloth that gagged him. She felt it — this presence, this fourth person hidden somewhere with a stare so burning she almost nervously scratched herself to get rid of the sensation. 

“Luca Changretta.” Jack simply said, spitting the name with so much disgust and disdain it seemed he had just taken a bite of a rotten apple, “I didn’t know you would put on a show in a pathetic attempt to scare me.” Jack stated with a raised brow — if his enemy had the slightest idea about who he was, he would surely know that cruelty didn’t impress Jack Nelson for he himself used to inflect it for business purpose. Ironically, what he loved the most was the Italian way.

“If you think all of this is to impress you let me tell you that you’re wrong,” The mafioso waved off the cutting remark with a elegant movement of the hand, “This unfortunate soul betrayed me so I had to make an example out of him. Nothing to do with you.”

That was how the men started to talk and while Eva was aware of it, the rest of their conversation blurred into unintelligible background when she noticed the tied-up man’s sudden agitation. The latter jolted and his breath hitched, muffled behind the ragged and saliva-coated cloth gag stuffed in his mouth. The air suddenly became heavy with a primal, animal fear that suffocated Eva. As her clairvoyant senses urged her to flee, her dark eyes still followed the panicking victim’s gaze until they fell on the slim and rather short frame of a woman. 

“Amore,” Luca called, interrupting his conversation with Jack Nelson due to the annoying noise he heard in the background, “Silence him.” He just ordered in a Sicilian — as a polyglot, Eva understood it — with as many emotions as if he had asked her to close the door, before focusing on his business talk again.  Two words, one command, and the girl moved closer, her steps light, almost graceful, as she entered his line of vision. She was rather small, standing no taller than 5”5, and harmless at first glance with her slender frame and radiant, ever-present smile. But Eva knew more than to trust a smile, especially this one who was nothing but deceptive - a mask to hide the hideous. She had long dark hair that cascaded down her shoulders, framing a cute but bratty face with mismatched eyes — one as dark as night, the other a brilliant, unsettling golden sun — and blood splatters.

“What…” Eva breathed. 

The man’s breathing quickened as she approached, his chest rising and falling in sharp, panicked heaves. He pulled harder at his restraints in a desperate, useless struggle but it only seemed to amuse her. The broken doll-faced woman tilted her head, her smile widening and a look of near delight crossing her face as she took in his terror.  “That’s okay.” She simply said with a fake soothing tone before pulling a sharp knife out and slicing his throat before Eva had the time to bat her eyes. The strong metallic smell of blood came in a wave so strong that Eva took a few steps back with her expensive heels clicking, eyes wide open, and nausea hitting. Jack must have borne witness to the same thing judging by the instant and worried glance he gave to his wife.

“Hm?”  The killer girl said as if she suddenly remembered that other people were in the room. She finally raised her bicolor eyes towards the Mexican beauty and paused, quietly observing Eva’s face whose exquisite color had turned two shades paler with lips parted in shock. The grotesque scene in front of her didn’t make sense — even with blood on her own hands, she could never understand such unleashed cruelty. Such a bright glimmer of pleasure when inflicting pain.  Eva was frozen, but Tina’s reaction to her presence was instant: her bloodied face lit up with gleeful recognition and her wicked grin turned into an innocent smile. She lifted her hand; still dripping with blood, and waved cheerfully.

“Oh, hey!”  She exclaimed in a light and musical voice, as though she'd just bumped into an old friend on the street. There was no malice in her tone, no hint of the brutality she had just shown.

Eva’s heart missed a beat for the first time in a while at the dissonance between her casual, innocent demeanor and the horrors she had just witnessed. It was wrong. Wrong. So fucking wrong, even for her. After all, she wasn’t a good person but she wasn’t…That. 

And “that”  was a whole other level. “That” was the kind of monster who could not be bribed, not be stopped. An abomination that no money nor power could restraint. 

And “that”?

That was Tina. 

tag: @runnning-outof-time, @evita-shelby, @peakyswritings

[gleamingtempest]

DRDT - Final Murderer Predictions

Please share your final murderer prediction on this post. : ) Feel free to share theories as well. Below will be a list of potential murder motive for every remaining student. There are spoilers.

CW: Suicide, Derealization

It is an equal failing to trust everybody, and to trust no one at all.

Distrust is Teruko's folly. Teruko killed to protect herself from danger.

If you forgot it, then it probably wasn’t important to begin with. None of those memories should ever be kept, anyway.

Charles forgot. Charles killed so that he could learn the truth behind his secret & the trauma of the event caused him to forget the truth.

You can’t go back, no matter how hard you try.

Regret. Eden clings to a regret she has in the outside world, so tightly that she seeks release from the pressure of the Killing Game. She killed out of desperation.

Why should I own up for the mistakes that someone else made?

Nico hated the victim. Their resentment boiled over and they compulsively organized a murder for the victim.

I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

Ace was terrified of dying so he killed in order to escape. Having seen his life flash before his eyes, he now clings to life more desperately than before.

I want to pay for what I’ve done. But even then, I still want to live.

Hu killed for the sake of living itself. A desperation to cling to something which has been fleeting for her entire life. She was given a reason to live by the killing game itself and she won't let go of it now that she finally has it.

Once something is broken, it can never be pieced together in quite the same way again. The same goes for people.

Veronika was bored. The killing game wasn't up to her entertainment standards, so she wanted to spice things up.

In the end, the only thing I can do is watch my wretched life go on.

Rose was exhausted. Her nightmares, memories, the present and the future all blended into one and Rose lost her sense of reality. Without even realizing what she was doing, Rose killed the victim.

Please don’t call me your daughter ever again.

J killed the victim for the sake of vengeance. This group threw & disregarded her problems, so why should she give a crap about them? She clearly doesn't matter to them.

You hated them, but even that doesn’t justify what you did.

Arturo killed the victim for personal vengeance. The victim slighted him so he wanted them to pay for what they'd done. That day should never have been remembered.

I always believed that a person is defined by their actions alone. But maybe that’s just a poor excuse for my heartlessness.

Levi killed for self preservation. Not bothered by the result one way or another, Levi saw killing to escape as the most practical solution to the Killing Game scenario. It was nothing personal.

We tend to idolize the dead.

Whit killed the victim. (???)

I hate you, I hate you, I hate you. I wish you could just die.

David killed the victim for his ideal. There's something which matters more than all of your lives; now - die for it.

[writing-frenzy]

Beautiful Disaster AU- 2:

:P so the gremlins for this AU won't let go it seems; fitting as I eat noodles I get the author man himself, along with his favorite hater.

:3

Edit: I almost forgor to put a link for part one

Here is another poem/quote thing :3

I'm beautifully broken,

perfectly imperfect,

beautiful in my flaws.

All together I am a Beautiful Disaster.

By Unknown

Again, this fits both SQH and SJ so much :3 This will be set kinda after the Moshang extras, just without the ship happening so far (because rebuilding trust and care, and loyalty takes time, Mobei being patient enough because SQH is worth it, with SQH learning he is indeed worth it, more than worthy.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Despite what most think of the An Ding Peak Lord, the glorified immortal secretary/janitor of the Cang Qiong Mountains never misses any time. He has more months, years plotted way in advance then anyone would dream, dates and times printed into his mind with an ever ticking constantly echoing his steps. He plans weeks ahead of anything he can afford to, considering people and patterns he has noticed, procuring orders before they were ever thought to be sent, knowing his martial siblings won't noticed the needed thing until it is too late.

But even he is not all knowing, author god he may be, so when things run out faster than he expected (Ah, embezzlement or incompetence, take your pick of what it could be! Maybe even both, it could be one of those days.) He takes days at a time to get these 'urgent' orders filled, replaced, fixed, or cared for to the best of his ability.

And he can assure you, that you will find no better than him when it comes to time and logistics; he has it down to the minutes it takes him to eat a bowl of noodles, to the seconds it takes to wipe the blood from his hands from yet another sad little assassination.

His days, like any An Ding Disciple, are numbered and ruled by the water, sand, and hands of a clock.

(Needless to say, Airplane sometimes thanks himself for his lazy writing, for example; that regular clocks do exist here, even if they are usually only for the holier-than-thou nobles/too rich to ever think types. It had been one of the first ever things he bought with his hefty Peak Lord allowance, and one of the few expenses he never regrets.)

No, Shang Qinghua never misses any time; he just chooses to skip inconveniences so that he could be spending his valuable time on things that actually do need his attention.

Of course, not like he'll ever let anyone know the difference.

"Liu-Shidi, there shouldn't be any meeting today? I'm pretty sure the next Peak Lord Meeting is when Peak Lord Shen comes to his Peak Next week?" Shang Qinghua whines, feeling the drag on his pale blue An Ding robes as the Ban Zhan War God drags him to the meeting that was in fact today, but knowing his transmigrator bro, will usually put off to next week because Yue Qingyuan is a fucking pushover.

(The man literally let Shang Qinghua back; sure yeah, probably until he at least trains a successor, but the pale blue robed Peak Lord would bet money it was partly because his head disciple terrifies all the other Peak Lords. Not that he can blame them, seeing as Bai Weizhe has finally forgiven him for leaving him behind; the young man's talent and temper is a legendary thing to witness, almost seems a shame he's wasting away at An Ding.)

"There's been a development; Mount Tonglu has settled." was the grim reply Liu Qingge gave, voice tense as his body was, never letting up his grip on his clothes, getting firmer in fact, as if ready for a runner.

"... oh... oh.. OH FUCK!" Shang Qinghua lets himself curse in English, digging through his sleeves for a paper-ah, the good talisman paper, good, good, and his lucky specialized pen he had made just so he could write everywhere, "We're gonna have to hold a conference with the other sects, aren't we? We'll-fuck, have to prepare relief efforts for the common folk, patrols will have to be bolstered and increased-Damnit! We'll have to get offerings ready for the Heavenly Officials just in case..." mumbling to himself, he sends his hastily written note to his Head Disciple as a paper plane, still muttering to himself as Liu Qingge continues to drag him forward to the meeting room, only dropping him once they get inside, knocking him from his stressed filled muttering.

Just to see all Peak Lords are in attendance, with a bonus Luo Binghe even right next to Cucumber bro all grim faced.

AH! Why is there so much work?! Mountain, why now of all times and places do you have to settle? Couldn't have done until Shang Qinghua died or somehow fucking ascended? But Shang Qinghua says nothing, just letting out a pathetic whimper to the disgust of a few of his fellow Peak Lords, though a few do give a sympathetic glance.

Heck, Fan Qingxue of the Alchemy Peak Shoushan and Yao Qingli of the farmers peak Dong Ye look like they want to join him in it; Ah yeah, those two ladies were the ones deathly afraid of ghosts. Since they've always been pretty cool and the ones who gave him the least shit to worry about besides Mu Qingfang, Shang Qinghua thinks he can spare some of his good calming teas and drinks...

Or they can just go straight for Zui Xian's harder spirits (ha).

"As I'm sure everyone knows why we are here, let us get down to business." After Zhangmen-shixiong cuts through his usual bullshit with that simple opening(surprise, surprise), the immortal carries on, "After all these centuries, Mount Tonglu settling bodes ill omens, with it's last settling the precursor to a plague and famine that almost wiped the mortal plane from existence." with those grim words spoken, the atmosphere gets chilling.

"If I recall Zhangmen-Shixiong, it took thousands of desperate prayers and many more offerings before the Heavens answered the call of the people, putting down the cause of it all; a Ghostly Calamity." Yi Qingyao, Peak Lord of the beast taming peak Yanlin, says as her pale, scarred hands reaching up to sooth the twittering little bird on her shoulder. "Will we have to once more rely on their power?" Will they answer us goes unsaid in her words.

While the Heavenly Officials have been quiet for a long time, it is obvious that they are still there, what with prayers still being answered and merits still being met; just more undercover, detective style really. At least, that's how Airplane had wrote it out in PIDW; had to get a few goddesses in the harem some way after all, and having the Heavens be like secret agents in his mind had been funny at the time.

(Though it does put into a new perspective the harem overthrow and everything; hmmm, feels like he should do another house cleaning around now, just in case...)

"As nothing has happened so far, it wouldn't due to try and summon those from higher plane when we don't even know what we will be up against; with no intel about the threat, we don't know if we will need a Martial or Spiritual God." Liu Qingge states, the war strategist coming out in full swing. "It would just be a waste of resources and manpower to offer without any knowledge, especially since we do not know how long the Calamity has had time to settle into their power."

"What do you mean time to settle?!" Fan Qingxue asks, alarm coloring her face even paler than before, hands clenched into her handkerchief; like this, she really does look like a dainty little princess, all big eyes and perfect brown hair, no one would think she would be a treasure hunter the like of Indiana Jones.

"From what is known, Mount Tonglu can be open for years, centuries at a time before the gates of the City of Gu Close, the true regulators of the mountain; it never settles, only until years after a Calamity is reborn does it finally rest, all its energy spent on the new, cruel rebirth." Sun Qingfu, Peak Lord of Ku Xing, answers her with a frown, his regular smile lines stressed from it as he does. "If I may ask, does anyone know just when the Gu City gates last opened?"

By the quiet that happens, the grim face of those who do know, it is not going to be an answer they like.

"... From what was found, it was almost eight years ago." was spoken ever so softly, Shang Qinghua feeling his own eyes widen as his mind does the math;

Almost eight years ago? When Cucumber-bro...

Here, the Ban Zhan War God seems to twitch, jaw clenching for a minute before it smooths away, all emotion erased as he turns to the resident Demon Lord.

Ah, while Shang Qinghua has an idea of just why Luo Binghe is here, sitting at the table with no one bothering to comment on it; considering the Demon Emperor's vast influence, and still in control over a certain, foretelling/divination talented sect, he inwardly pleads with his Shidi, hoping it will get through.

Please do not get into a fight here with the protagonist son! (May his Protag also not start anything please!)

"Has Huan Hua Palace managed to gleam any information about the upcoming Ghostly Calamity at all." Liu Qingge asks Luo Binghe, Acting Grand Disciple of Hua Hua Palace still, even being a Demon Lord as he is. (Though, his son is more of a figurehead then anything, what with Huan Hua needing all the help they can get, at least until they restore their reputation just enough to 'promote' another.)

"... From what the Divinators have said, not much has been managed to be gathered, something seemingly blocking their sights and tools." Luo Binghe says, before looking to the sect leader, a question seemingly in his eye, to which he gets a short nod.

"It seems that both Huan Hua Palace and our own Divination Division have been trying to qualify the Calamity coming to little ends; very few details have been gathered, but I'm sure you have received details of the same city?"

That gets a stark frown on his Protagonist's face, dark eyes flashing a gloomy red before he says those damming words. "Jinlan City."

Eight Years.

Jinlan City.

... Oh Fuck his life with a rusty spoon; this is not the fucking time for a god dammed plague/famine thing!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You two bit, sell-out hack of an author! How in the fuck could you leave out such important world building! Just for fucking sex plots!" is ranted when they're alone in the bamboo house on Qing Jing Peak, Luo Binghe being in high demand to work with the other sects as the current head of the golden cultivators. Damn, but is Shang Qinghua glad that's not his problem anymore, even if he feels a bit sorry for the Hua disciples he revived just to take over his paperwork duties.

(What, it's not like he could have used that plot device for himself, considering that the Sweet Dream Seven Petal Rose could only be used on righteous, young souls, both of which he is not. Gongyi Xiao and his little bunch are doing great last he checked, even if they now have a newfound hunger for spiritually dense rocks and plants; still a surprise to have that many good nuggets in such a gilded, slimy place like Huan Hua.)

"Hmmm, more focused on what could get me my rent money at the time, you know, like an adult." Shang Qinghua sasses back, looking over all the reports constantly being sent to him, signing something there, double checking there, burning that paper here. "And considering how Calamities need actual, real deal gods to handle their fucking business, I made the executive decision to just not include them into the story."

"Binghe wouldn't lose!"

"..."

"... No, he wouldn't! He the- He's your protagonist..." here Shang Qinghua looks over to his bro, being hit once more just how young the other actually is, green eyes wide as they take him in.

"Calamities were not named lightly bro; they earn that title through pain, agony, and a resentment that refuses to ever fucking die." Here, Airplane comes into full swing, rambles of a favored topic only an author can understand dumping out, "It was one of my favorite things to plot out in my original draft, I did so much research and writing for what I was going to have as a neutral recurring character for an arc or two here or there, someone who could make the Luo Binghe bow in respect. Calamities were a part of the whole for the reason pure blooded Heavenly Demons were wiped out." he explains, only for Shen Qingqiu to interrupt.

"Because very few Demons or Spiritual Creatures can affect ghosts, so that the protagonist could show off fancy cultivation tricks with his companions or wives." his green clad bro finishes, a death grip on his fan.

"Yeah, had to justify at times why my protag would bother leveling his human side, considering how op his demonic blood was. I figured ghost would be an even playground, while not effecting demons much, couldn't actually be effected that much in turn." Shang Qinghua shrugs, wincing at the pops and cracks as he does, before going right back to his paperwork; he really should have went back to his peak, he really would get more done, but with his favorite hater's memory, it would be worth the cutting into his time if it could jog his own memory of his story.

From what he wrote in Proud Immortal Demon Way, Mount Tonglu was only in one arc of his story, his son having to find the ghost of one of his favored wives to revive her, who ended up being sucked up into the mountain. Luo Binghe had to struggle hard, getting the aid of a sexy Ghostly Cultivator and a Demonic one to help him along the path to find the ghost of his wife. It was a race against time and enemies, ghosts who would rip anyone to shreds, and to ensure his ghostly wife wouldn't gather too much energy from the place so that she couldn't leave.

Thanks to his Sexy helpers, plot amor, and general bullshit plot devices, Luo Binghe saves his dear wife's ghost, revives her, and has some sexy papapa times with all three ladies from the adventure. (Though the two don't actually end up wifed to Luo Binghe from what he remembers.) But despite all the bullshit, Airplane remembers at the time he only wrote the group going as far as the second level, just in the mountain proper, and sure as hell nowhere near the really important parts; the ancient city of Wukong, and the Kiln that attracted all the ghosts in the first place. Otherwise, he would have had to write a fight scene that Luo Binghe could not win.

And couldn't pay his bills; so thus, Mount Tonglu and all its possibilities got shafted, just another plot thread left dangling among the many others he had in the wind, taunting his readers as it were.

One that gives context, but no longer any help with their situation.

After that bit of thoughtful silence, Cucumber bro begins to say something, only for a knock at the door to interrupt them.

"Shizun, apologies for interruption, but the Head Disciple from An Ding Peak is here." that sweet voice can only be from one of his sweetest characters, one Ning Yingying.

"Ah, you can just come on in Bai Weizhe, I don't think-ah!" Shang Qinghua calls, before sputtering as his bro proceeds to spit take all over him, "Gross, seriously gross bro."

All that gets is the stunned, incredulous gaze from his friend, before his rather stunning Head Disciple comes in, looking like he should be the Peak Lord honestly. Really, he makes the light blue and grey of the HD Uniform look like the highest fashion, with those highly noble features and crystal grey eyes. The young man is just missing a crown in that silky black hair, and bam, he'd look the part.

Well, then he'll get that look in those usually gentle eyes and then he'll look more like he should be the Ban Zhan or Qing Jing Peak Lord; just like now, a storm brewing clouds as he takes in the two Peak Lords before him, darkening as they look to his dripping Shizun.

"This disciple hopes he was not interrupting anything? There is unfortunately much work for Shizun to do, and so little time to do it." His disciple says, face perfectly bland even as he ignores any of the custom greetings one should do before their elders, especially those way above in seniority. Raising an eyebrow at his disciple, as while Shang Qinghua could let him get away with murder, decorum and manners are not something his disciples skip on, a tool he has trained them to practically weaponize.

But Bai Weizhe merely smiles like sugar won't melt in his mouth, completely transforming that handsome face into a truly devastating attack, his raging eyes the only give away. Hearing Cucumber bro choke beside him, Shang Qinghua makes to stand up, sighing once more.

"Ah well, just another storm to weather through, maybe if I'm lucky I can just hide away on my Peak or the Northern- I'm not lucky am I?" Shang starts hopefully, only to see the darkening of his disciple's eyes.

"...When the Divinatiors were divining into the future, they managed to find out one more thing." Here Weizhe's eyes flicker, looking down for a minute before back to him, the only sign he gives off he is worried, "When looking to see who would go to investigate, Long-Shigu only kept getting omens of death, no matter who was drawn from the lots..." Here, his disciple takes a deep breath, Shang Qinghua himself now worried for his student, putting a hand on their shoulder to ground them, calm them however he could (along with himself).

"It's only when Shizun's name was drawn to go that the omens lightened at all."

... Fuck, if Long Qingyu, the Zui Xian Peak Lord, the best Divination Master this side of the Jianghu that wasn't part of Huan Hua said so, then it was so...

Damn it to planes and noddles, but he's already missing his bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I look at you, and I just love you, and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you."

By Alexandra Bracken

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shen Yuan can fully admit, if only to himself, that he might just be, slightly, just ever so slightly, terrified.

Of course, he'll admit this too no one; despite how OOC the System has let him become, how it stays in 'standby mode', some habits have just become too ingrained at this point to change, forged as they were into his shield. It has been both a boon and a bane as it were in his day to day, keeping him together through most storms in his life, even if it's left him sopping wet afterwards.

But in the end, at least he still has someone to warm him up, a calm within that storm to rest his weary body for a time... Even if they truly aren't an actual escape from said storm.

"Shizun, is there anything you need? Anything I can do?" His Binghe fusses, those clear dark eyes of his not able to hide the tightening worry scrunching them, face still beautiful even as full of negativity as it is.

"Just be as ready as possible; we do not know what to expect, with assumptions being a foe that could blind us when we least expect them." Shen Qingqiu speaks, truly trying not to think about it, about just what kind of situation they are about to be walking into, the ruins of Jinlan City just a bit before them damningly, the Base Camp the Cultivation Sects pulled together to create rest less then a mile away in the distance.

'Oh, but how hard it is to not make any...' the transmigrator can't help but think, grimacing behind his fan as he can just notice the stares from others around them, some judgmental, other pitying, but all still obviously looking at them.

After all, eight years ago was the day he first 'died' in this world. Combined with the issues with the Sowers, then the resulting destruction of said city... it didn't paint the best of pictures.

As expected of a protagonist; even after the 'happy ever after', there was still no rest from possible story lines. (Shen Yuan honestly at times was just... tired of them. Didn't he and Binghe, especially his Binghe, deserve a rest?...

He'd rather be caught in a wife plot even at this point.)

"... A-Yuan?" was whispered rather lowly, right into his ear and behind his fan, so no one with advanced cultivation could hear or see what he was saying, "Is this some sort of... event?" His disciple asked, making his Shizun pause in his fanning for a moment, before returning, not even so much of a twitch on his face.

"...That has not made any signs of movement beyond what it has told me and your Shang-Shishu." Shen Yuan answers carefully, ignoring the brief twitch of disgust on his husband's face at the mention of the other man, "It has been quiet since a year ago." At least, from what Shang Qinghua has told him about his months long misadventure.

"... I see." there, just slightly, is a bit of relief in Luo Binghe's face, Shen Qingqiu unable to stop his own weary smile at the sight.

Despite everything, despite how he will never, ever tell his fellow transmigrator, he is grateful the man convinced him to tell Binghe as much as he could about their transmigration.

Even if it felt like a kick in the teeth at the time.

("... Bro." Shang Qinghua has a look in his eyes that makes Shen Yuan freeze, fully reminded, in that moment, in that time, that for all his fellow transmigrator plays around and whines, the man has earned his Peak Lord title, and all that it entails. "You know the tropes, the clinches, the story; what part of keeping all those secrets to yourself seems like a good idea?"

Here he couldn't help but bristle, "And in what story do you see a character actually talk about being from another world, hmm? What can I even say?!" He stops himself from going to hit the other with his fan, the urge stifled as he sees those brown eyes darken as they narrow.

"I've found that as long as I kept it vague, I can get the general idea of what happened across. I've experimented with My King and my Head Disciple, and the only time I was stopped was when I was about to mention the System directly. Otherwise I was good to go..." here the older man pauses, before he sighs even as Shen Yuan gaps, honestly stunned the other man actually tried something like that.

"Look, Shen Yuan, do you want your relationship with Binghe to work out?"

"!! Of course!"

"Then tell him; tell him before it is too late and you really become a foil for Yue Qi and his Shen Jiu." here, hearing his name and the mention of those two, Shen Yuan cannot help but pale, seeming to stop and stare at the bitter author god before him.

"Wha-"

"... Cucumber-bro, for all you remember about my stallion protagonist webnovel, you seem to always forget it's a tradegy at its core..." here the other man just looks so tired, staring into his teacup instead of directing those all too knowing earth colored eyes to him.

"And the promis of love was always meant to be Binghe's greatest weakness.")

"Ah, greeting from this Disciple to Shen-Shishu, Lord Luo." was greeted, Shen Qingqiu nearly jumping if he hadn't already noticed his husband was looking over, even if he did look stiffly over to the voice.

One Bai Weizhe stood there before them, not a hair out of place, his face neutral, calm and as if he probably wasn't plotting how to slit your throat in your sleep. Like he isn't secretly some powerhouse that could probably go toe-toe with Yue Qingyuan and even toy with the man if he felt like it.

"Ah, good day Bai-Shizhi, has everything been completed and set up?" Shen Qingqiu asks, fanning himself lightly, doing his best to pretend that this is just a regular disciple, that their is nothing wrong with them, that he is just a wrong word from breaking out into a cold sweat.

"Yes, this disciple was sent to gather all the participating Peak Lords coming from Cang Qiong Mountains; all preparations have been made, Long-Shigu and Huan Hua Palace saying soon will be the best time to enter the city. I'm sure that these Lords can find the way their themselves?" Shen Qingqiu nearly frowns at this subtle though pointed disrespect, having to gently tap his fan on his husband's shoulder before he can say anything.

"These Lords are capable of it, though it would do Shizhi well to remember their manners; I'm sure your Shifu has taught you better than that?" The Peak Lord comments, knowing if he doesn't say something, then Binghe will-

And while that face is still as calm as before, those eyes giving nothing away, there is something about that pause that says Shen Qingqiu has said the wrong thing.

"This disciple will keep it in mind, Shen-Shishu. Please pardon me, I must go and find the other Peak Lords joining the scouting force." With that, and a shallow boy just respectful enough, the young man hurries along, the pale blue and grey of his robes fluttering in the wind as he goes.

Outwardly, the Qing Jing Peak Lord seems as calm as can be, soothing his fussy husband as they walk over to the main tend of the Camp, not even flustered a bit by the altercation.

Inside on the other hand, Peerless Cucumber is just 'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa, Airplane of all villains you picked up, why him!? Why him as your HD?!'

Now, while Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had made plenty of low IQ and forgettable villains in the story, it just meant that when he actually pulled out the good ones, he made them unforgettable. From the beloved 'Big Brother' Pan Shan, a villain only in protection of his family, to the literal 'Calamitous Beauty' Tan Xifeng, a woman so proud and strong she rather turn to ashes forever then be trapped in the Harem, Bai Weizhe was just as up there, the calm 'True Mastermind' in the name of revenge in PIDW.

In the set up, The Bai Family is a very high ranking Cultivation Family, just as high if not more so than the Liu family, said to be descended from heavenly beings, granted power and weapons of that level because of it. But over the years, with less and less powerful Cultivators coming from the family, the Bai Family head got desperate, making his son marry multiple women to try and birth a hopefully powerful heir. And seeing how much of a playboy the man was, with plenty of bastards beforehand, it wasn't too hard for the man to put out it seem. Of his many spawn, two ended up as wives to Bingge and of course a few becoming villains for the arc.

But Bai Weizhe, when first introduced, it shows one of his half-sisters, a future wife, trying to defend him from another of their siblings who were attempting to torture him. All throughout the arc's mystery, one learns more of the future wives alongside this weak bastard son of a maid and the Family Head's son, learning they were little more than a slave to the Family Head and his Son's whims.

Bai Weizhe had seemed like a helpful, if slightly talented npc, being more of an awkward emotional support then any seeming threat, even if things seemed ever so slightly off about him, most of which could probably be excused by just how abused he had been. In fact, many thought the man would become a little brother character, Binghe taking in the poor bastard son as a future assistant or something because of how intelligent he was (with rotten girls going even farther and saying he would become part of the harem.)

But when the plot twist was revealed, with it turning out the murders and almost complete alienation of the Bai Family was all his doing, daringly using the protagonist to do his dirty work for him... it had been as shocking as it was satisfying to the readers, some actually rereading the entire arc with eyes wide open to take in all those little clues and cues to the real monster hiding behind the mask.

But of course, Luo Binghe being Luo Binghe in Proud Immortal Demon Way, Th Bai Bastard meets his end and Bingge gets the Bai Family twins and some family treasure as a bonus... (Though, from debates and such, it actually has been argued that his death may have either been faked or the man had a back up prepared.

Knowing PIDW and all it's bullshit plot devices... he can see it, especially after meeting him.)

But coming to the tent, Shen Qingqiu pushes all thoughts aside, face grim as he looks over his fellow gathered Peak Lords.

Yue Qingyuan. Shang Qinghua. Mu Qingfang. Liu Qingge. Qi Qingqi. Himself and his husband.

"Both the best and worst team to send." Long Qingyu's bitter words spoken broke through the tents atmosphere, making everyone tense as she did. The Zui Xian Peak Lord took a gulp from her bottle, truly stressed if she was drinking in front of them, "I cannot say much, or do anything else but offer this one last advice; make sure you actually listen." she stresses, golden hair slipping from her messily made bun as she pushes it back even as she takes another swing of her drink, mismatched brown and green eyes closed as she does.

"Listen to what?" Liu Qingge asks, eyeing the woman as she finishes her drink with a mournful look.

"Just as I said; listen. Do not assume, do not judge, do think before you damn well speak-" Here she stops herself, teeth gritted as she breaths through them, before opening her eyes once more, "I can say no more, not unless I want the omens to darken even further. Just get ready to go." with that, the woman is gone as fast as she came in, closing the tent behind her with a loud snap.

Staring at everyone, meeting eyes with a few before looking to his Binghe, Shen Qingqiu starts to prepare himself, checking just in case for anything that could have been missed.

Come what may, he and the others will be as ready as they can be, going against the Calamity as they are.

It'll have to be enough.

(Oh, but they will never be ready, unknowing of the poisonous green eyes watching, waiting for them all this time.

They've waited long enough.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note:

And here we have our favorite disaster bi's, Airplane and Cucumber-bro! Man, both are great characters, my bias being Airplane, but Shen Yuan is also such an interesting character to delve into, being one of the favs I both want to hug and just smack over the head :>

The second quote I found I feel can really seem to resonate with Shen Yuan, when our boy stops repressing and actually lets himself feel.

Also, while I like BingQiu... boi, does that relationship have issues, ones I really hope they did indeed talk through when they could (They have a fuck ton of time to do so, so here I had Airplane help and kick them into gear; nothing like be reminded of tropes and the fact that your hubby is a fucking Tragedy Protag. :> )

Anyways~

Airplane: *Revives a bunch of disciples because he does not want to deal with the paperwork* ... why are you looking at me like that, stop that, go back to your sect.

So many OCs this chapter, I'll just do a spot light for one because then this chapter will just be author's note. (not too mention how he kept worming his way everywhere, just smiling at me as he did.)

Bai Weizhe: Means Outgoing, great sage because I like it; little fun fact, how I have my OC Bai Weizhe: he was actually a high IQ Villain in PIDW, (think if Lan Zhan and Jin Guangyao had a baby, he'd be that baby :3 ) the bastard son of a great cultivation family where Luo Binghe was doing the 'acting like a pig to get the tiger' sort of deal. He was actually a genuine, hidden boss level threat for at least one-two arcs before he had to get fridged for papapa plot (tho.. more like a faked death, Airplane always had a soft spot for his villains after all :3). In fact, it was mentioned in Villainous monologue that he had went to join CQM sect, but due to sabotage by his family, never got the chance in PIDW.

In SVSSS, Airplane was still in the process of working on his 'applying by application' process to An Ding (because I love this headcannon, it gives me fucking life, I am still mad for losing the bookmark to the story that inspired it.) so he still picked disciples by the digging test for a while. He sees this one poor little guy digging despite looking like he's gonna pass out any minute, powering through it with sheer determination and spite, the other Peaks Lords and Disciples already dismissing them, thinking he has low cultivation/poor prospect.

Shang Qinghua though doesn't care about all that; he very much wants that determination (and spite, gotta respect it) He can use all he can get! *After the kid cleans up and gets the drugs out of his system, Shang Qinghua blinks, double takes* WTF when did I have a talent on my peak??

Bai Weizhe: *Smiles like butter won't melt in his mouth* I've always been here Shizun.

(Does Airplane remember him? lol nope, but Shen Yuan sure does :D)

Also, none of the An Ding disciples really 'care' about Shang Qinghua's betrayal (Anyone on An Ding? Oh, they've dreamed of much worse; so much worse~) :) They Just :) Are a bit Upset :) about being Left Behind. :) But its all good; their Shizun came back :)

(And if the sect knows whats good for it, he'll stay where he fucking belongs.)

[mari-lair]

Good point, but he also made friends with the ants before he knew Kite was dead. But geez, Gon desperately trying to get Killua to remember him mixed with Killua's now very skittish personality...although I do wonder when this would have happened? I guess the first thought that comes to mind would be when Killua almost bleeds to death, but there's several places in the arc you could potentially make it. No matter what though, this is so heartbreaking. Trying to get Kite AND Killua back and feeling so alone...part of me wants to explore it further and the other part wants it as far away from me as possible.

As for the Zoldycks, Alluka was locked up when she was pretty young and they were scared of her because they couldn't control her. They spent years with Killua, and although I don't like the Zoldycks, they would be absolutely heartbroken to realize that Killua was dead. Illumi is rather obsessive about Killua so I think that would seriously affect him (he'd still probably try to control Killua), but I don't see them casting him out. But Gon would fight like hell so they wouldn't take him away. He's not letting them hurt him again, not ever.

What hurts more is that while I imagine Killua does his best in the Ant Gon AU to accept him as a new person (Apo), I feel like Gon wouldn't be able to handle that. His name IS Killua, they used to be best friends, why can't he remember?! He tries to be patient, but he's just so hurt and overwhelmed by everything that's happened. No matter what though, he's not leaving Killua's side again. He won't fail him again, and he'll get his memories back at any cost. There has to be a way, and he won't stop until he's whole again. Or maybe if he changes like Killua did, they can be together again...(oh god, imagining them both as ants together...)

...damn, this hurts. Why would you do this to us? XD

Gon did befriend Meleon before learning Kite is dead but I still can't personally see him targeting ants as a whole cause he always treated them as individuals, being angry when they treated their friends as trash even before Kite's death and choosing to trust Meleon when he was already full of rage from seeing Kite's broken body. I think (?) Melon even mentioned that when he saw Gon, he saw a 'beast' in him.

He also never blames the king/queen or another ant when Kite did die, it's just Pitou, (which split to himself too since Pitou shows compassion and stop being an 'easy' target for gon's hate) from start to finish (sorry for the side track I know it was a minimal thing of your ask but I get too excited when I talk about CA Gon, I will yap about my boy!! yufgytfdyt)

I'll admit I didn't have a specific timeline in mind of when Killua was turned (again the lore is not in my hands) but your idea of him being transformed during the cave breaks my heart. It would have to be an au where the queen somehow didn't die (maybe the king wasn't born prematurily? idk), since only she can birth chimera ants from what I remember, but AUs are all about bending canon and the mental image of Gon never getting the phone call from Killua and slowly realizing people are acting as if he is already dead so he explodes and goes to search for him make me sad... (So i am sharing cause i must spread my pain)

man... I don't even want to think about Gon's mental state, it makes me too sad... I will lose my whimsy and get too focused on this au..

Yes, I agree about the zoldycks! I don't think they would lock up, disown, or ignore ant!killua, they are very tuned to family and indeed love him lots (twisted as said love is), I just don't think they would still want to make him the heir, cause even outside the whole 'non human' thing, Killua is irreparably anxious now. This is not a ploy to try to control him and make him leave Gon to die and become an assassin, is just who he is, and someone that get anxious in the face of power/the unknown is a weakness even to an assassin in big doses. But mentioning Illumi and the family heartbreak does make me realize something! The zolfyck would also want to bring his memory back, and considering the needle, if anyone would be able to get his memories back it would be Illumi. Gon love can make him remember flashes and vague memories (I adore how love make nen do incredible feats in this manga) but getting his whole life forcefully and violently back from start to finish? Illumi is the answer. And he will try to control him too, likely better since he now have both manipulation nen and Killua's memories to use against Ant!Killua.

I really like the idea Gon can't adapt to 'Killua' no longer being Killua. Cause for as sweet as he can be Gon is self-centered as hell so is very on brand, and to make things even worse than the Killua with Apo scenario, ant!Killua (who I don't have a name for so you can come up with one Edit: his name is Lua) is quick to give up, he doesn't want to get into a big argument and make Gon upset and Gon is already very sad (note: Ant!Killua just assumed saying gon is wrong about this would lead to an argument, so in practice they barely reach the talking stage, which just make gon fully confident Killua also wants to be Killua again, so he is more reckless about it and make killua hate it more but gon is doing it for him, and is an endless circle someone pls help them-)

[apollos-boyfriend]

cellbit's books to the ones he cares for: translations

forever

page 1: forever, i don't even know how you must be thinking of me now. if everything has gone to plan, things must have been so weird that you've already started to suspect my infiltration plans. i believe that you're very intelligent.

page 2: the past few days have been a torture greater than i could ever imagine. what the census bureau did to me with that chainsaw couldn't compare to the pain to having to fight and lie every day to the people closest to me. feeling the deception hurts.

page 3: but it was the only way. the initial plan as to surprise you and the census bureau during the trial, but the vivo meme gave me the perfect opportunity to make a scene and make it look like i had some sort of motive to argue.

page 4: the census bureau doesn't understand feelings and wants too well, so this would be sufficient for it to believe my motives. it worked. i've never been so alone, but seeing you take up leadership and fighting so ferociously left me-

page 5: proud. everything is so much more difficult than i thought, but this was the only way for us to get any type of real information. after all this effort, all this fighting, all these enigmas, we still haven't found ANYTHING out about the federation. nothing.

page 6: i hope to be able to be there with you to explain this in person, but if you're reading this book, something probably went wrong. i was made to do things that i never would've done, and made to say things i never would've said.

page 7: and even trying to be apparent about my lies, even trying to make you guys suspect me, in the end, my plan . . . still went bad. and i know that probably no one on this island would trust me again. i burned all my bridges. but it was the only way.

page 8: i left a book to richarlyson in the beginning of it all, i didn't want him to have his heart broken, and maybe that was my biggest failure. but i was willing to sacrifice EVERYTHING to get this egg off this island. everything. and that's what i did.

page 9: tell bad i'm sorry for the things i said about dapper, to max about sofia, and to the french for the suspicion. i'm sorry for what i did to your XP farm, i know how long you and richas worked on it and every spawner that i broke was a-

page 10: stab to my heart. honestly, i think that they were already going to break it because it was SUPER broken [op] . . . but they made ME break it . . . to test if i was really willing to do anything for the federation.

page 11: tomorrow is the day that i'll officially become a part of the federation. it's my "initiation process". we'll finally going to have new information. i'm VERY anxious . . . and nervous.

page 12: i did all of this for richarlyson. i did all of this for felps. i did all of this for the ordem. i did all of this for you guys. i hope that it'll have been worth it.

page 13: explain to bad, to max and to quackity. and tell foolish that he's a gem of a person. sofia's new password is "Regret". and if those federation sons of bitches make the error of letting me live . . .

page 14: i will come back. keep your eyes open, forever.

tazercraft

page 1: gentlemen, i know that our past isn't the best one. i know that you guys must believe that i've turned into that monster again. but that man is no longer me. cell died on that island. i'm not him.

page 2: i missed you two dearly, and wanted to be able to play more rounds of hide-and-seek, and trying to organize an EGG GYMKHANA with you guys in chume labs. i'm sorry for not having been able to. i love you both, and you're amazing parents for richas, too.

page 3: he loves spending time with you both, even if the two of you are stupid*, i think that no one enternains him more than tazer and craft. at least i won't have to take the red wool again.

*used endearingly

page 4: take care of yourselves, guys. and explode this census bureau bitch. yuo guys already took down herobrine, this shitty bear is nothing.

richarlyson

page 1: richas, i tried my best. i'm sorry, son. i just wanted to get you away from this island. this place isn't safe, and the federation won't let us leave here. when i arrived in this place, i never-

page 2: thought that i would have to take care of someone . . . but what you've become was so much bigger than this. i'm sorry for not being able to be there all the time. every neuron that i burned with those cursed enigmas, all those hours that i spend locked up in that office . . .

page 3: it was all for you, richarlyson.

page 4: continue to trust in your daddies forever, pac, and mike . . . and if in any way i've managed to bring him back, in daddy felps, too. nevertheless, your dad quackity really toes love you and wants to protect you. i suspected him at the start, but i've heard the truth in your voice.

page 5: if i'm no longer here . . . daddy quackity now has my 20%, okay? i'm sorry if i've ever made you feel alone in any way. remember when i told you of a moment in my life that i felt completely alone?

page 6: solitude is worse than any prison. worse than what i went through with daddies pac and mike, and worse than this island. i'm sorry for having you suffer this, too. it's my biggest regret.

page 7: i love you, you big-headed* egg. see if you can learn to catch something that's not crabs. immortalyson forever.

*term of endearment, tends to equate to "stubbornly stupid"

bonus:

the book cellbit gave to richarlyson before being attacked by the codes

page 1: i need for[the federation] to trust me. it's the only way. i love you. i love dad forever. i need that [the players] believe the contrary. it's going to hurt, and i'm going to do terrible things. but i will-

page 2: destroy [the federation] from the inside. all of them.

additionally, he left a book for roier, however forever did not open it/read it out to respect their privacy. cellbit titled it "guapito"