#but this is literally all i could draw back then

[tbaluver]

Santa Baby- The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader genre: smut + drabble summary: santa gives you the gift of pleasure the night before christmas a/n: hihi lovelies ! i'm trying out this new layout but literally just for the holidays bc i dunno if i can do this for each post lols ive seen so many of my fav writers do this on every fandom so this is inspo from them !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ rest of my a/n will be down below (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

‘twas the night before christmas, fruitcake, peppermint candy canes or any holiday food could never compare to the taste of your cunt debunked by santa xavier.

the warm glow of the fireplace casted both your shadows on the walls, yet the room was ridiculously hot. both of your bodies were sweating in a tangled mess. xavier situates your legs around his head, trapping him to the spot he thirsted so much for.

your limbs trembled as he rubs soothing circles on your thigh as he admires your leaking cunt. you felt like a mess under him, yet he wouldn’t have it any other way.

one arm pressed down on your hips while the other was used to pump his fingers into you. your mind was dizzy, not knowing which to focus on. his mouth and fingers were doing wonders that created butterflies in your stomach.

you tug against his hair, earning a soft groan that sends vibrations over your cunt. he licks a wide stripe from your entrance and up to your clit, collecting your sweet juices on his tongue while keeping his eyes on you.

he pushes his tongue inside of you, groaning from your taste. you buck your hips up into the air but his arm around your hip gently pushes you back down on the carpet. his thumb rubs on your clit, making sure to apply the right amount of pleasure that causes you to moan in pleasure.

there is nothing xavier wants more for the holidays other than giving you pleasure. he knows exactly what to do to get that reaction out of you.

his tongue consistently draws patterns on your wet slick while occasionally sucking on your clit. you yelp out a moan when he inserts two fingers inside of you, groaning softly when he feels how tight you are as you clench around his fingers.

his fingers pump in and out of you, curling to reach your favorite spot before his tongue dives back in, sucking on your clit. you were a moaning mess below him, tugging onto his hair as you kept bucking your hips up. you felt that familiar coil building up on your stomach, your walls squeezing around his fingers.

he watches you with half lidded eyes as you release your load around his fingers. after you ride out your high, he removes his fingers out, sucking the juices of your cunt.

nothing comes close to you all year long

Zayne:

‘twas the night before christmas, the mugs of hot cocoa were left abandoned, growing cold. the plate of cookies was surprisingly left half eaten. stockings that you wore were found on the floor along with zayne’s and the rest of your clothing trailing up to the floor of the fireplace. santa zayne has arrived but he is not finished just yet.

zayne swears he saw the most beautiful angel ever. no, not the one on top of the tree but the one on top of him. tits bounced joyfully that made him feel like he was dizzy. your pussy clenched around him, milking every drop of him and yet he couldn't get enough. his cock rock hard as you slide up and down his length, taking every inch inside of him in your belly like the good girl you are. 

he swears the way you were dripping for him and the countless orgasms you’ve given each other, he might as well just keep you on the good list for your entire life if you kept doing this. his mind completely forgot that the reason this all started was that you were a naughty girl for trying to shake around the boxes under the tree. 

a small lazy smirk curled on the corner of his lips as he held you, helping you bounce on his cock. his eyes half lidded as he admires the markings that littered all over your body, each and every one of them illuminating from the lights of the tree.

he isn’t that far behind from you. he watches your eyes roll back and your mouth open wide. with a breathless moan of his name, signals him that you reached your orgasm which makes him do so as well. the clenching and pulsing of your walls around him sends another bucket loads of his cum painting your insides milk white.

you looked absolutely breathtaking. your movements were slow as you continue to bring yourself down from your high as you both catch your breaths. he gently pulls you down to rest comfortably in the crook of his neck, keeping himself plugged in you.

you both were lost in your own world until the chime of the clock struck midnight, breaking the silence between you both. you tilt your head slightly, your cheek still resting on his broad chest as he tenderly brushes your hair. with a small smile, zayne whispers, “merry christmas my love.”

Rafayel:

‘twas the night before christmas, the tree was decked out and full of presents, big and small but one particular present caught your eye. a present that was too big to gift wrap.

there stood your boyfriend with a christmas hat and nothing on but wrapping paper wrapped around his sculpted body, specifically wrapped around his cock.

“well aren’t ya gonna unwrap me cutie?” he winks, tilting his head.

wrapping paper scattered across the floor and it didn’t take long for your present to be up and running. effortlessly, it didn’t take him long for him to peel off your clothes.

you sank to your knees on his carpet, positioning yourself in front of the tree where he laid out pillows for you to be comfortable. before you point your ass up to the sky, you take one last look at the ornament in front of you that reflects rafayel pumping his cock behind you.

he admires the sight laid out before him, a smirk curling on the corner of his lips. grabbing the base of his dick, he rubs himself between your ass cheeks, his pre-cum dripping on your skin. he spreads you slowly, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips when he sees you arch yourself more to press yourself onto him.

rafayel sinks slowly into you, letting you feel every inch of his length and vein going inside of you. he lets out a soft groan as he looks down at the way his cock disappears into your tight cunt as he pushes himself deeper, earning a whiney moan from you.

he starts off with a slow tempo, letting you get used to his length before his hips start slamming against yours. his hands roam around your back while occasionally squeezing the plush of your ass. he knows he’s fucking you good from the way your moans sound.

“yeah just keeping takin’ all of me cutie, just like that,”

the mix of your words slur together, “‘s good raf- so good!”, along with every sound that escapes your pretty mouth as he watches your ass bounce back rhythmically against his pelvis was sending him to overdrive.

your moans were muffled from the way you were face down into the pillow, drools spilling out of the corners of your mouth as each thrust sent you closer to climax.

he held you firmly in pace, his hands gripped on your hips, feeling your gushy walls constrict his massive cock. the familiar coil was winding in your stomach as you chased your high, rafayel wasn’t that far behind you either.

with a few hard thrusts in your walls you came around his length, rutting your hips more to milk out his cock before your legs buckled out. his pace slows as thick ropes of cum release into you, his hips roll against your ass to make sure no drop goes to waste. he keeps himself plugged into you as he plants a trail of soft kisses down your face and neck.

luckily for you, santa made sure you get an extra present that following night. a two for one if you will.

Sylus:

‘twas the night before christmas, and santa sylus’s little helper has been so good to him that she deserved her special treat early.

he removes himself in between your thighs, your arousal dripping down to his chin as he admires you. your pussy glistened in the warm glow of the christmas lights and from the flickering fire of the fireplace, your folds slick with arousal.

christmas was around the corner and this early present was meant for you but it seems like his also came a little too early as well. but it wasn’t finished just yet. santa sylus had planned a few more rides down.

once you were ready, you felt his swollen tip nudge at your pretty pussy, slipping in nice and slowly just for you. your back arched on his soft, fluffy luxurious carpet, pressing your chest against his firmer. inch by inch you felt his thick length enter deeper and deeper earning soft grunts fall from his lips.

you rock your hips under his, signalling him that you were ready for him to move more. you wrap your legs around his hips as he gently holds the back of your thigh to keep you in place and the other on the rug.

slowly, he rocks his hips with yours, keeping a steady pace. he captures his lips. picking up the pace slightly. sloppy thrusts and hungry lips, attempting to devour you, made your brain go dumb. between his heavy strokes and sweet kisses, you managed to catch your breath

his lips met your against, melting into your touch. the sounds of lip and skin smacking fill the room along with the fire crackling in the fireplace.

his hand tightens on your thigh while the other grips the carpet as he fastens his pace. grunts and small whispers that are cut off in pants, invade your ear. “so..so good..”

your velvety walls were so welcoming and warm. every inch and every vein of his length can be felt inside of you as it drags along your tight walls. beads of sweat drop down his skin as he focuses on making you finish first but the belly bulge he was watching go in and out of you was not helping him.

butterflies swarm in your stomach as pure ecstasy reaches deep down within you. your back arched when the constant thrusts of his cock became too much. sylus joins you, thick white ropes of cum spurted deep inside your walls.

he keeps you close, your foreheads connecting as you both catch your breath. his hips eventually come to a halt but he makes sure to keep his hips locked with yours so his seed wouldn’t leak out of you.

that’s one present off your christmas list and many more surprises he has for you.

a/n: hihi again lovelies ! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ i moved it down here bc my entire yap is gonna cover the post ( • ᴖ • ｡) and before ANYONE mentions that this isn't giving santa baby from the song that's bc some parts are and some parts are not (ᵕ—ᴗ—) i referenced a lot of songs like nonesense christmas by sabrina, rocking around the christmas tree and just tried to use things from the holidays to make it smut related <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> i wanted to get this in before christmas bc i know some of you guys are going into christmas eve rn ! i hope you guys have a merry christmas and a happy holidays !! ✧｡٩(ˊᗜˋ )✧*｡

special thanks to my beta readers again @ilovemitsuya @deusfoundry @justwinginglife ˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖ !! mwah mwah ily all !!

[bunni-v1]

Hnnghh christmas Lighter smut where reader is dressed in nothing but a long ribbon and bow bc he’s been a good boy this year

🍓Did u read my mind? Get outta there… jkjk, but seriously this is EXACLTY what I was thinking about. I really can’t dedicate the time to a full fic, which breaks my little gay heart, but imagine with me if you would… (this is a full fic btw i fucking lied to you and myself)

Tw: Nsfw; kinda rough (not too rough); UNEDITED ITS HORRENDOUS

Mdni

Christmas with the Sons of Calydon is pretty atypical. They have their own traditions that most New Eirduians would scoff at, but they’re rather important to those who live in these parts. Drinking, singing together (usually drunkenly and offkey), taking bike rides out to start a fire and literally burn away past regrets of the year, and of course fights — plenty of fights.

You weren’t exactly a fan of the fighting part, usually meant more work for you to do, but Lighter always seemed to have fun. Obviously he did, he never lost — he hardly broke a sweat for the most part. And he loved showing off, especially if you were there to watch him. Everything else was mostly normal, though… a little odd but custom made to your little ragtag group, and you loved it.

It felt warm, cozy, like family. They passed out gifts, most of them hand made or incredibly thoughtful since money was scarce for most of you. Lighter had gotten you a (rather expensive) bracelet with your and his initials engraved on it. It was sweet, and unexpected from the guy who pretended like the holiday was nothing for the months leading up to it.

It made you melt on the inside and feel nice and warm. However… his nonchalance about the holiday cause you one… teeny tiny, itty bitty problem. You had no clue what to get him, and you hadn’t gotten him anything — time had run out and no one would give you any good hints.

His insistence that you didn’t need to get him anything in return made your stomach ache. It was hard to focus on his fight when your head was rushing with ways to rectify the horrific mistake you’d made quickly. The red ribbon of the jewelry box wrapped around your fingers tightly, then unwound as you mulled over your options.

You could get him something for his bike, but you’d have to drive to the city and it’s unlikely he’d let you go without him — that’s if the stores were even open this late on a holiday. Maybe you could craft up something quick and easy, if you could get back to your place there surely would be something, but… that felt cheap. Especially compared to the bracelet.

“That ribbon’s pretty,” Caesar says next to you, drawing you from your thoughts, “Must’ve been one real fancy place he went to for ya.”

You sigh, leaning back against the wall a little, looking at the ribbon as you twisted it around, “I’m sure it was. He’s so hopeless sometimes.”

“Only because you’re so sweet on him,” She teases, nudging your shoulder lightly.

A laugh huffs out of your chest, then an idea strikes you. The ribbon is pretty. You actually had some like it back at your place, stored away from last years festivities. You twist the ribbon one last time, and then you grin, wide and wild. Lighter catches your eye as he socks his opponent in the jaw, smirking at you like he’d won a prize.

“Hey, Caesar,” You hum, turning to your friend who seemed a little uneasy at your expression, “How long do you think you can keep him distracted for me.”

She hums, watching him thoughtfully, “I’ll buy ya fifteen minutes — wait, why?”

“You’ll hear later~” You hum with a wink, and practically skip back to your place, leaving Caesar alone to deal with your very adrenaline filled boyfriend on her own.

It takes you half the time Caesar said she could get you to find the damn ribbon, and the other half is spent fighting for your life to get the thing on and look at least a little sexy. You tried to recall old articles you’d read on bondage and shibari, but it was hard to do without a guide. You’d managed to get all the good bits wrapped up and hidden, with a few extra crosses to make it look pretty.

You don’t get a chance to check because you hear Lighters heavy footsteps outside the door nearly as soon as you’ve tied the bow comfortably around your neck. Your able to sort’ve arrange yourself seductively on the bed for him just as the front door open and he calls out to you. You could tell he was annoyed from his voice alone. He never liked it when you left his shows early.

“Caesar told me you headed back here,” He called, boots thumping as he threw them off, “We’re you not enjoying the show?”

It’s a tease, you know it is, but there was an underlying annoyance in his voice that sent a tingle up your spine. He pushes the bedroom door open incredibly slowly, to the point you think he’s trying to surprise you with something. You have the gall to feel stupid for a moment right before his eyes land on you, and he stops at he takes in the sight.

There is an audible shudder as his eyebrows raise nearly to his hairline. He takes his sunglasses off, revealing those pretty green eyes that rake in every inch of you with hunger. Then, he smirks, shoving the bedroom door closed with his shoulder already working his gloves and jacket off to the floor. Forgotten without a second thought. The rest of his clothes follow quickly after.

“Merry Christmas!” You cheer, though you’re more nervous than happy. He clearly likes it, according to the quickly growing tent in his pants and how fast he is to strip himself, but he’s a little too quiet for your liking.

He sinks onto the mattress in front of you, hands ghosting around the bright red ribbon. Like if he touches it, it’ll all fall apart in his grasp. He traces each inch of it with careful practiced restraint, following the fabrics flow across your body until he remembers that you are under the fabric and he lands on your face.

His eyes soften when you smile nervously up at him, fingers tracing the apple of your cheek with such admiration it nearly makes you cry. “You like it?” You ask softly, unsure of yourself.

He scoffs like you’re stupid for wondering, “This might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

It draws a genuine laugh out of you, which he follows with his own as he comes down to nuzzle your cheek with his nose. Then a soft kiss that trails down to your lips, easing you into a slow careful dance of love and passion.

He readjusts your position so carefully, you almost don’t notice he’s doing it until he’s between your legs. Pressing them open then pressing his dick to the ribbons wrapping up your folds from him. You’re already dripping, the adrenaline from earlier enough to get you going, but the added friction just makes it worse. You’d never be able to reuse this stuff, that’s for sure.

His hands glide over your stomach, following the ribbon with lazy easy until he’s found the one covering you from him. His thumbs slide under the pieces, rubbing over the flesh of your abdomen gently. It’s then that he pulls away, a string of saliva keeping you connected as he presses his forehead to yours.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” He murmurs quietly, “You could’ve given me a smile and I would’ve been happy.”

You shy away, “Well… I almost didn’t have anything to get you, but your gift, mmm, inspired me.”

He chuckles at you, reaching down to run his dick against your still covered folds. The silky fabric oddly making everything feel more intense. “I can see that. Very cute, by the way.”

“I know, thank you,” You hum, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he presses the two of you back into a laying position, “Now are you gonna unwrap your present, or are you gonna keep teasing yourself.”

A roll of the eyes and another smirk, “Y’know, I’ve never been a fan of ruining the wrapping paper. Shits expensive… so how about we go nice and slow.”

As he says that, he slides his dick between the ribbon, right up against your throbbing clit. You let out a surprised sound, quickly melting into sighs of pleasure and he fucks into the ribbon. Each push and pull stimulates your aching pussy into gushing out more for him, clenching on nothing as he fucks himself against you at a leisurely pace.

You take the chance to look down, moaning out as he head of him touches your thigh. The sight is something you’d see in a porno. Lighter follows your eyes, smiling to himself when he catches you practically going cross eyed at the sight.

“We look good together, don’t we, sugar?” He purrs. A rare nickname, sweet and extra praiseworthy — just like he thinks you are.

You nod along with him, fluttering your eyes back to his with a dumb little smile. Each drag of his dick makes your toes curl and nails dig into his broad shoulders. He sighs at the sensation, pressing kisses into your skin to quiet himself up. He’d rather listen to you, after all, and this was a gift for him.

His fingers begin to crawl up your body, dancing along the ribbon excitedly. They make sure to stop and tweak your nipples through the fabric, humming when he feels they’re sufficiently hard and sensitive under his touch. Then, finally, they reach the neatly tied bow around your neck.

The tug at it, gently unwrapping it from your neck and pulling it away with ease. Replacing the red of it with his tongue, licking and sucking new marks into the flesh. Your hips stutter against his, and he lets out a groan, squeezing your tit as warning. You whine, but don’t fight him anymore. His hands returning to unraveling the ribbon, pressing into the skin revealed until he is the only thing keeping the ribbon and his dick pressed against you.

You pout a little when he pulls away, pussy aching for friction once his dick is gone. You feel it clench as it looks for him, and god it makes you feel like a whore. He takes your hands from his shoulder and leans over you to tie them to the bed board above your head. You can feel how wet your were at the wrists, especially when he kisses them reassuringly.

“I love you tied up,” He hums, “You’re so pretty when you can’t do anything.”

You pout up at him, but he doesn’t stay to admire the look long, leaning over to the bedside table to grab the condoms. It occurs to you, in a state of lust driven stupor, that he shouldn’t have to fuck his christmas gift with a condom on.

“Ah, wait—“ He raises an eyebrow at you, hand just inches away from the condoms, “Would you wanna do it raw?”

He blinks at you, again surprised in the same way he was when he first saw you. “Are you serious?”

“We don’t have to—“ You quickly try to rectify the situation, but he cuts you off.

“No, no, we definitely have to,” He shakes his head, closing the drawer with one swift motion, “You’re trying to kill me out here, aren’t you?”

You shake your head, but he’s not listening as he pulls you up into the position he likes most. Legs over his shoulders, body bent in half so he can fuck you hard and fast. He gives you a few seconds to adjust to the position, then he’s pressing his dick into you at a painfully slow pace.

It’s because he’s just so big, he always has to go slow, but you wish he’d just fuck you through the pain right now. The stretch is perfect as always, and you suck him in like it’s nothing with how wet you already were.

He cusses when he finally bottoms out, pressing his face into the side of your neck. You can feel his hot breath fan against your skin, tingling deliciously. “Fuck you’re always so tight. I’m never gonna get used to it, sugar.”

You hum, though you’re in no better shape. Shivering and shuddering every inch, and still quaking as he sits still inside you. You play with his hair to distract from how hot you are, and how you wish he’d make you hotter.

He gives himself a moment to calm down, then he presses a kiss you your cheek, readjusts you just a little so your muscles don’t tense up, and then he moves. The first three thrusts are slow and easy, then he starts to slam into you hard.

“Oh fuck—“ You cry out as the deafening smack of his hips into your ass rings out across the room.

The pace he sets is brutal and unrelenting, you were hoping for it all night. The unspent adrenaline from his earlier fights coming right back to fuck you so good you know you won’t be walking tomorrow. Each slap of his balls against your quickly reddening ass is accompanied by a stifled moan.

He watches you with an intensity you weren’t aware he was capable of, eyes drinking in every single inch of your expression. He looked crazed, but that’s what made it so hot. He was obsessed with every little look, every little sound that left you.

“Don’t be quiet, sugar,” He hums, pushing two of his fingers along your bottom row of teeth to force the sounds out.

“They’ll hear—“

“Let ‘em,” He dismisses, “They know you’re mine anyway, who cares.”

You really couldn’t argue with that, especially not when he shifts ever so slight to hit your g-spot head on. A salacious moan rips out of your throat, and your sure Caesar has figured out what you were up to earlier from that alone. He doesn’t stop ripping sounds out of you, though, continuing his brutal pace and hitting that spot so well you think you’re seeing stars.

The build up to your orgasm is so quick you hardly have time to realize it’s happening. One second you’re fine the next your throwing your head back and moaning like a whore.

“Lighter- Baby, I’m— fuck me- god I’m gonna cum, Lighter.” You admit, way too loud for your liking.

He hums, seeming to switch gears and fuck you faster somehow, “Go ahead, I’ve got you. Lemme feel you cum for me.”

You nod, chest rising and falling rapidly as start litter your vision. You think you nearly pass out, but Lighters hard thrusts fuck you through your orgasm. You squeeze him so tight, like you’re trying to milk his own out of him. You want him to fill you up, want to feel his warm cum deep in your belly. Want to see it drip down your thighs and pool onto the bed when he pulls out.

“Cum inside, please.” You beg.

“Fuuuck… ‘re you—“

You nod, “I need it, please cum in me. ‘S part of your present.”

He groans, fisting the sheets next to your head, “Suagr, you’re fuckin’ killin’ me.”

Always one to please, Lighter does exactly as you ask. Filling you to the brim with his thick hot cum. You revel in his moans, and only slightly wish you could curl your nails into his shoulders to leave another christmas gift for the morning.

He eases you into a more comfortable position before collapsing on top of you. His weight is welcome against your spent body, as are the wet kisses he presses into your sore skin. He unties your hand with one of his, and you quickly wrap them up into his hair.

“I love you,” He mumbles into your shoulder, “So much. You’re the best gift a guy can ask for.”

You giggle at the praise, “I love you too, Lighter.”

[karaeilishh]

reader getting rlly horny when g!p billie is walking around in like some loose shorts and like she can see a dick print

a/n — okay, ik you all waited for it

𝜗𝜚 stress b. eilish. . .

your mouth almost watered, when billie finally came home from filming the interview, tired and a little angry. it was so weird because she didn't say a word to you, just walking into the living room and sitting down on the couch to turn on some show on tv. her shirt had ridden up a bit as she got more comfortable, and now you could clearly see the outline of her cock through her jeans.

it was too hard to look away when that bulge was literally beckoning you to come over to her and relieve all her stress. you bite your lip and slowly walk up to billie. as soon as she notices you, her gaze drops to your cleavage, then slides down your entire body. cheeky.

"rough day, baby?" in one step you are next to her, straddling her hips. you could see her cock getting harder after that. billie swallows hard, feeling like all the words are choked in her throat. you smile, accepting her reaction. your hands go to her belt, unbuckling it slowly as your gaze never leaves hers for a moment. "tell me what upset you today, my love.."

you finally free her cock from the grip of her baggy jeans, pushing them down to her ankles. your hand goes to her clothed length, stroking it softly, feeling her wetness beneath your fingertips. she throws her head back against the couch, sighing through clenched teeth. "i won't continue until you tell me."

you feel the indignation in every movement of her body and the sounds she makes. her hand grabs yours, forcing you to wrap your fingers around the thick cock, already pulsing beneath your grip. you squeeze it slowly, pressing your thumb against the head, making her tremble.

"this.. this girl. she was so disrespectful.." she tries to gather her thoughts, tries to explain why she would let herself come home and not even kiss her girlfriend, but it becomes impossible as you push the fabric of her boxers down, now feeling every vein under your hand. "baby.."

"keep talking" you lean down, wrapping your lips around her head, running your tongue down the length a few times, causing her hand to fall to your hair, trying to push you deeper onto her cock. you pull away, kissing her palm, eliciting the most pathetic whimpers from her lips. "is it really that hard?"

she moans, grabbing your hips, pushing you closer to her cock. her eyes are pleading as she looks at you. "fuck me, angel. i need you so badly." her whispers leave you with no choice but to get rid of your shorts and panties, lowering yourself onto her cock at an agonizingly slow speed.

it was at this point that the game was in her hands.

"i told you to go faster" her grip on your hair became painful as you bounced on her cock with a speed that almost made your legs go numb. your moans mixed together, the sounds of your bodies slapping against each other filled the room.

"i—i can't go faster.." you bury your face in her neck, your tongue drawing strange patterns on her pale skin. she almost growls, one hand grabbing your waist and holding you in place as she begins to raise her hips at an animalistic pace on her own, destroying you both with pleasure. "i wanna see your face while i fuck you"

her hand on your neck, forcing you to look into her lust-filled eyes as her cock filled your pussy so perfectly, like it was made for her.

"fuck, baby.." her dominance ended where the approaching orgasm began. the thrusts became messy and sloppy, her mouth parted, gulping air, eyes rolling back into the back of her head. a divine sight. "please, please, can i—please, i need to cum inside"

your hand falls to her face, your thumb wiping a few drops of sweat from her forehead.

"kiss me"

tags - @chrissv4mp, @hkkuugu, @sweet3nerrr, @krosep, @stonerfromlesbos, @loveyoumatthewbernard, @47lake @ohdoyoustillcry, @bilsdillldough, @n0vabug, @bxllxeb, @hopingforgoodblogs, @mybluebossanova

[nightxcreature]

Sore Loser

Summary: Team Freewill has a game night

Pairing: None

Warnings: None

A/N: I have had the worst week. We had the flu and once we got over it, one of our best friends suddenly passed this weekend, and it just does not feel like Christmas for me At. All. We used to have game nights all the time with our friend and Uno was one of our favorites, so I wanted to put out something silly and fun, and this is the best I could do. Not edited, Written in roughly 10 minutes. I’m so sorry for being MIA, I’m truly trying to get back into a healthy mindset. Writing always makes me feel better but motivation has obviously gone out the window. What I wouldn’t give to be playing Uno in the bunker with these guys instead of living this nightmare.

Please do not steal my work, you don’t have permission and that’s real uncool. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are always appreciated though, My Dudes. 🤙🏼

————————————————————————————————————————

“Kiss. My. Ass.” I bite across the table as I lay down one of the last cards in my hand. My eyes narrow in his direction and I send a sly smirk as I flip him off and say, “Uno.”

His green eyes narrow on my hand and the single card between my fingers. He glances worried down at his own hand and nods before steeling his features to rake his gaze back up to mine and take a slow sip from the bottle in front of him.

Castiel places a red 3 on top of mine, nervously glancing between myself and our friend. I can tell he’s unsure about playing another round with us when Sam lays a blue 3 on top of his red and Dean lets out a loud “Son of Bitch!”.

I send a vicious smile across the table, prematurely celebrating my win when Dean peeks over at Jacks hand. They lock eyes for a moment, seeming to be speaking telepathically when Dean’s own grin suddenly matches mine. He slowly pulls a single card out of his hand laying it down and giving Jack a solemn look, “Draw Four, Buddy.” Jack shakes his head, a pitying glance sent my way when pulls a ‘Draw Four’ card from his own hand, “I’m so sorry.” He mumbles as he lays it on the discard pile.

“You can’t stack cards!” I yell, “Since when do we stack cards?!”

Sam shrugs, a grimace crossing his face, “You stacked cards last round.”

“Yeah, well that was last round. We didn’t talk about it this round and-.”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Sweetheart.” Dean cuts me off, the smirk never leaving his lips as he nods toward the pile, “Draw Eight.”

I stare open-mouthed down at the cards on the table, red filling my vision. I barely hear Sam speaking when I yank the cards up from the table and sling them across the room. Dean’s loud cackle echoes through the library and Sam slips his hand over to pull my drink to his side of the table before I can throw it at the older Winchester.

“I think you misunderstood what to do,.” Castiel’s monotone breaks me from rage and I turn to face him, taking several deep breaths as I do, “Here, let me help.” He says quickly and suddenly the cards are back on the table exactly as they were and Cas is counting out eight cards to add to my hand, “Here.” He says, holding them out to me with the most innocent of expressions, “That should be right.”

I stare blank faced at the angel before deciding against squaring up with God’s literal shield. I jerk the cards from his grasp and slouch back down in my seat to glare at Dean, whose shit eating grin couldn’t grow any bigger, “Your move.” He calls across the table smugly.

The game goes on well into the night, ending tragically with my drink in Dean’s face, his chair across the room, the table flipped, and both of us banned from playing Uno in ‘Sam’s Library’ ever again.

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @lmhf1 @k-slla @whimsyfinny @aylacavebear @enigmalynne

@envysarchive @daisydark @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @manicjk

@suckitands33 @oceean @mxtansy @justwhisperingfantasies @mgchaser

@xinsonyax

[fruitcoops]

Do They Know It's Christmas?

Happy holidays, lovelies! And most importantly, happy noot fic exchange/ secret Santa to @itsaash --you're a legend, a sweetheart, and a friend I hold near and dear to my heart. I hope everyone is staying safe and sound! You've made it through the shortest day of the year; it's only up from here! Thanks to @veryspacecowboy for coordinating the exchange and @lumosinlove for the characters!

TW for implied smut and mild Vaincre spoilers

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus, right down Santa Claus Lane…

“Fourth line, take it left!”

…and all the fun we had last year…

“Good work, boys, remember we’re working clockwise.”

Run, run, Rudolph, Santa’s gotta make it to town…

“I know, I know, but we need to get that down before we break today.”

…come on, it’s lovely weather for a sleigh ride together with…

“Keep those crossovers clean in the corners, Sunny!”

…the very next day, you gave it away…

Arthur frowned at his clipboard. An ache had started up along the inner corner of his eye, and not even the steady working of his thumb brought relief. The song changed to something bright and tinny with silver bells; the things he would give for a nice, quiet O, Holy Night right about now. Something soft, with minimal jangling. A saxophone would be lovely.

They had a schedule. They always had a schedule. The boys were used to rotation exercises—he had even taken pity and not added anything new or complicated to the roundup. The whole damn thing was laminated and taped to the damn glass around the damn bench on both damn sides of the goddamn rink.

Arthur’s eyes ticked typewriter-smooth down the list, but his ears alone would have told him it was a lost cause. Messy crossovers. From Sunny. Crunchy, scratchy steps from skates of perfect sharpness. Low muttering, barks of laughter, rollercoaster-arcs of chatting when they were supposed to be focusing. Cap did his best, but Harzy looked about two laps from chewing his way out through the boards.

Well. It was almost Christmas. He could be kind.

The whistle broke through Brenda Lee’s second chorus; 20 heads popped up.

“Revision!” Arthur called across the ice, drawing a steady line through the end of his list. “Bring it in.”

Their rush to the bench was the cleanest they had sounded all day.

“We’re going to finish a little early today—”

A wave of cheers cut him off, then petered out at his unimpressed glance.

“We’re finishing a little early,” he repeated when the Christmas spirit had released their souls at last, leaving only a faint ringing in the upper levels of the bleachers. “Because I’m taking off the last rotation.”

Arthur slipped his pen back into the clipboard clamp. Olli raised a tentative hand. “So…we can go…?”

Arthur frowned. “What? No, we’re going ‘til noon, if you just—guys, the schedule is right there—”

“Nooo—”

“But Coach—”

“—Christmas!—”

“I haven’t even—”

“—been here so long—”

“—like you don’t even love us—”

“—mom’s gonna kill me if I don’t—”

Unbelievable. Simply beyond words. Arthur looked over Nado’s pleading hands, hoping for an ounce of solidarity from the one person besides himself who was literally appointed for this duty, and was met with only a beleaguered, whale-eyed stare in return.

Arthur raised his eyebrows.

Sirius gazed back.

For such a large person, he could really pull off ‘sickly Victorian child begging for gruel’ when he wanted to.

“Alright,” Arthur muttered. It was lost in the sea of writhing and wailing. “Alright!”

The team (finally) fell somewhat silent.

“I am very sorry,” he began, pausing to slide his clipboard onto the bench hook. Their anticipation was delicious. “That I assumed a group of grown men playing their favorite game for millions of dollars would be able to handle one morning practice for their last competition before a holiday break.”

Pots’ eyebrows pitched as if he had been stabbed. “But Coach, it’s Christmas.”

“It is December 22nd.”

“I haven’t even found something for my dad yet!” Walker piped in.

“Sounds like a personal problem with time management.”

Pascal—the traitor—shuffled on his skates. “I was going to make holiday cookies with my children,” he said sadly. “They grow up so fast. We might not have many years of it left.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “I’m letting you go at noon, not locking you in here overnight. And I know you make cookies on Christmas Eve, because you put them on my doorstep every year.”

Pascal tsked, but didn’t deny it.

“You get cookies?” O’Hara perked up, craning his neck to look at Pacal. “How come we don’t get cookies?”

“Because I don’t need you to like me,” Pascal said with a smile.

“What if we need to catch flights?” Knut interrupted.

Arthur squinted at him. “Knut, we have a game tomorrow. You better not be going anywhere.”

“Well, no, but the sentiment stands.”

“No, it does n—you know what, fine, if you make it through…” Arthur leaned around the glass to squint at his beautiful, crisp schedule. “Your next two—TWO, I don’t wanna hear it—rotations before 11:30, I will let you out then.”

“And no lift tonight?” Kuny asked hopefully.

“Don’t push it.”

“Veto.”

Budding protests froze over in one collective puff of breath.

…the stars are brightly shining…

“What?” Arthur asked at last.

A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices…

Sirius licked his lips, shifting from one foot to the other. “Veto.”

Arthur opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Every eye in the room was fixed on their captain. He rested his chin on top of his hands, folded on his stick. Lupin’s gaze flickered back and forth.

“But I…” Arthur faltered, gesturing at the schedule.

“I get three.”

“It’s not even 9:30.”

“No questions asked.”

“We have a game.”

“It’s snowing outside.”

“How do you know that?” Arthur asked despairingly.

A grin skipped across his face. “I’m Canadian. I can smell it a mile off.”

“Also, Tremzy texted everyone right before practice,” O’Hara added.

“It’s snowing, have fun at practice, you fucking losers, ha-ha,” Knut recited with a grave nod.

“No, no,” Sirius corrected. “My bones are made of snow and I was born with hockey skates in one hand and a thermometer in the other.”

“That, I believe.”

Arthur waved his hands between them before the already-unbearable situation could get any worse. “Let me just…” His headache was coming back. Going home early was starting to sound less terrible by the minute. “You, as captain, get three vetoes across the span of your contract.”

“Ouais.”

“Which you can use to veto any practice you want, for any reason, with no questions asked by me or other staff.”

“That’s what I signed, yes.”

“And you’re using it on a snow day? With barely two hours left of practice? Before a game and a week off?”

Sirius smiled. “Veto.”

“Lupin.” A last-ditch effort. Perhaps a dirty play, but it was warranted. “Lupin, don’t you have anniversary plans? Birthdays? Anything else he can use this on?”

The captain’s barely-contained mischief was bad enough. Lupin’s mild bemusement was worse. “I’m sorry, Coach, but I can’t question a veto from my captain.”

Arthur scanned the crowd of hopeful faces. Sometime in the last minute and a half, Knut had slipped his phone off the bench and was doing his best to text under Winter’s elbow. Kelly Clarkson sang along to his imminent defeat. He sighed, shook his head, and opened the gate. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Nobody moved.

Arthur blinked. “Merry Christmas?”

Not a twitch.

“Ho-ho-ho, get out.”

The dispersal was the most active they had been all day, surging forward in one mass of whooping red and gold. Out of the corner of his eye, Arthur saw Moody turn the music up a notch before hustling back into his office.

The herd had vanished down the tunnel in a matter of seconds. Arthur shook his head, turned his smile toward the empty rink, and pulled out his phone.

--

The locker room was a disaster.

“Don’t pull so hard!” Leo grunted as he fought to wriggle out of his jersey, hopping on one socked foot while Finn tried to help him out of his remaining skate. “I’m gonna fall, I’m gonna fall, Kasey—”

An elbow to the ribs righted him. “Yeah, no, I’m on my way out,” Kasey called over the ruckus, sandwiching his phone between his ear and shoulder. “Yeah, lemme get my shoes on. Al’s driving? Jesus, maybe I’ll just walk.”

“A tie is bad, right? That’s a bad gift?”

“T, I’m sure your dad will love anything you get him.”

“But I got him one for his birthday.”

Remus grimaced for just a moment, but it was enough. Thomas dropped his head into his hands with a groan.

“No, hey, it’s a good gift!” Remus tried, patting his shoulder. “Does he have a lot of ties?”

“He’s more of a sweater guy.”

“T.”

“I know, I know, I know.” Thomas sighed. His head fell back against his stall, then rolled toward Remus as his lip slid out in a pout. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Did Remus have to give him a minute with this one? He was a little afraid he did. “T,” he started. “Your dad likes sweaters.”

“Yeah.”

“So get him sweaters.”

“But what if he doesn’t like them?”

Remus took him by the shoulders and gave him a gentle shake. “He likes you.”

Thomas made a desperate sound and rolled his head the other way, then heaved himself upright. “I need to go outside. The cold clears my mind.”

“Way ahead of you!” Finn shouted over his shoulder, one hand clasped in Leo’s and the other on the doorknob with his skates teetering dangerously over his shoulder.

Leo hoisted their duffel bags, shuffling through the narrow doorframe with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. He gave them one last clumsy wave with a glove half-on. “Lo sends his love, even if he’ll never say it!”

“Yes, I’m coming,” Kasey laughed, presumably still to Natalie. He caught the door with his foot just as it was beginning to close; Remus grabbed the edge of it from him and waved off both his grateful look and mouthed thank you. “Yes, baby,” Kasey repeated. “Usual spot. On my way.”

It was a disaster, and then as fast as they had all tumbled in, everyone flooded out. A few of the newer guys remained, muffled by the hum of the showers. Dumo ruffled up Sirius’ hair as he passed, preoccupied by Celeste’s rapid-fire French on the phone and the hustle of his light jog. Remus was pretty sure he caught some mention of the park; there was one near their house with a pond that froze around this time of year. He was a little surprised Logan wasn’t already staking his claim on it.

Sirius’ arm was around him before he even started to sit. It made for the perfect guide and counterbalance, settling him firmly on a denim-clad thigh with a kiss to seal it in seconds. “Hey,” Sirius mumbled against his shoulder blade.

“Hi, trouble,” Remus laughed.

Sirius hummed, obviously pleased, and gave him a squeeze around the waist. “That felt good.”

“Using your powers for evil?”

“Mhm.” Another pulse, this time with a cheeky pinch to his hip. “And you.”

Remus scoffed, swatting at him, but couldn’t help leaning back into his warmth all the same. He was lucky Sirius couldn’t see the heat of his face, too preoccupied with nuzzling his way across the span of Remus’ back to leave a kiss at the top notch of his spine before burying his nose in the divot below. Odd creature, that one. Remus liked him far too much. “What are you doing?”

“You smell good.”

“I haven’t showered.”

“I noticed.”

Remus bit the inside of his cheek for a moment. He gave the room a cursory glance—the stragglers were just finishing up, too engrossed in whatever wisdom James was bestowing on them to notice the graze of Sirius’ teeth over the arch of his shoulder. “I was thinking,” Remus started, then lowered his voice. “Was thinking we could do it at home instead.”

Sirius’ smile pressed bright and devious to his skin. “Yeah?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Am I invited?”

“Unless I’ve started using the royal ‘we’,” Remus teased, digging his elbow lightly back into the curve of Sirius’ rib.

His laugh was soft, but the pat to Remus’ outer thigh was perfectly heavy with promise. “Get your bag.”

News of their early departure had obviously reached the ears of the rest of the training staff, because the halls were stark in their emptiness on the way out, after many goodbyes to James and promises of dinner tonight. Remus had been dying for some actual holiday time—he had planned gifts months in advance, dedicated an entire Monday to wrapping, agonized over delivery times and game schedules and delays.

But he was craving the substance of it, the literal meat and potatoes of people coming over to ooh and aah at the ornaments over dinner by the fire. Most of all, he wanted some time that was theirs. A brief moment to enjoy the lights and the smell of fir with just himself, Sirius, and the dog. It had been…three weeks? More? Since they put the wreaths and boughs up around the house. He was pretty sure that was the last time they had been able to do holiday things that didn’t involve obviously sneaking off to get gifts for each other.

Sirius seemed to feel the same. They had hardly made it past the PT room before he was pulled into an empty hallway for a kiss that melted in his mouth like butterscotch. He hummed, pushing into it, but Sirius just took him by the hips and pressed him back against the wall. Okayokayokayokayokay came the giddy whirl of the end of his thoughts.

“This.” Sirius’ mouth moved against his jaw, threatening a mark above his pulse point. “This is what I was after.”

“Cancelling practice just to kiss me,” Remus said, breathless already. His throat caught at a flash of teeth under his ear. “So irresponsible.”

Sirius’ eyes were bright and playful. “And I’d do it again.”

They got away with another minute—or five—before footsteps sounded down the other hall. Remus took him by the hand and pulled him toward the parking lot at a brisk, tumbling clip, sneakers pattering on the floors Filch was waiting to wax until they were all gone for the break. Hooligans, he called them. It echoed in Remus’ head as he kissed Sirius stupid in the hall beside the display cases. If only he could see them now.

The air bit his face as soon as they stepped outside, hot and kiss-fresh. Remus could hear voices around the corner but Sirius’ hand was sliding ever-lower and he just—“There’s people!” he hissed, fighting his grin with a blind bat backwards.

Sirius was too fast. A firm grab made him hoot, startling a laugh from both of them. “The entire world has seen us making out in a car, loup,” he snorted. “I think that’s worse.”

It was only the Cubs, after all, and half a snowman wearing a disjointed collection of gear. Leo’s oh-so-subtle text must have done the trick to summon Logan out of his holiday relaxation. He had only flown in that morning after the Rangers’ last game, but he seemed plenty awake despite the journey.

“You’re making me cold just looking at you,” he argued, adjusting his beanie over Leo’s ears while Finn finished rolling the head beside them. “You’ve lived here for years, and still you forget a hat?”

“Merci, baby.” Leo tried to sound begrudging while he obediently bent to let Logan work, but it only came off as fond. Remus could relate.

“And Fish just lets you walk out of the house like this. Unbelievable. It’s snowing.”

“It wasn’t snowing when we left,” Leo pointed out. “I seem to remember a ha-ha, losers text informing us of the change.”

Logan’s tsk was sharp as black ice while he tenderly tucked Leo’s curls under the hat’s knitted edge and kissed each of his cheeks. “Completely frozen over,” he informed Leo. “You’re welcome.”

“Now you’re going to get cold.”

Whatever disbelieving expression Logan made was lost to Remus as Sirius ushered him around the back of the car, but his scoff was plenty audible. “I’m Canadian. I don’t get cold.”

Sirius’ forehead hit the steering wheel the moment their doors closed. “I want to be home,” he complained.

“You’re in the right place to get there.”

“I don’t want to drive.”

“I can do it.”

A pathetic sigh heaved his back and shoulders. “I don’t want to wait fifteen minutes.”

Remus tugged on the back of his hat. “Not that I’ll ever say no to a little New Year’s action, but I feel like we just covered why that’s not a great idea in broad daylight.”

Sirius groaned, grumbled, and turned the car on.

Between salt and the morning commute, the roads were mostly clear. The familiar crunch of snow under tires pulled half of Remus’ brain from the rink; the other half followed at a sluggish pace, coaxed away by radio carols and the mindless chatter the two of them somehow managed in spite of spending eighty percent of their time together. The window was cold on the side of his head. Remus never liked freezing, but there was something about a snow day that always felt like home.

The house lights cast red and green glimmers over Sirius when they pulled in. They were working on getting decorations he liked; things he actually wanted, not just what Instagram said he should use. It wasn’t a lot yet, but it was a start. The icicle lights above the door had been a particularly good find.

They were greeted by a loud bark and the scrabble of paws. Hattie careened around the corner from the living room (she had taken to dozing under the tree) and spun herself at their feet in a few tight circles for maximum petting efficiency.

“We’re home so early!” Sirius cooed, gathering her wiggly body up in his lap like she was still tiny. “Oh, you’re so excited. Did we surprise you?”

“We were so mean to poor Coach,” Remus agreed as he dodged her lolling tongue. “Yes, baby, so mean, but now we’ll be home all day.”

Hattie keened and whined and nibbled on everything in reach for a tolerable thirty seconds, then launched herself out of Sirius’ lap and made a beeline for her toy box. She had hardly made it halfway to them when a cardinal flitted past outside—her ears spiked up, body puffing on a low bwoof. Remus barely got the screen door open before she was off like a bird-seeking missile, cutting through the snow in leaps and bounds.

They dumped their gear in the mudroom, made a snack, planned lunch, played with the dog, dried the dog, cleaned her paws, and finally—finally—they were standing in the same room, with nothing to do for another hour at least.

“Hi,” Remus said, heart kicking.

Sirius smiled. “Hello.”

Hattie’s teeth squealed on her peanut-butter-filled toy.

They wasted no time for foolishness on the stairs. A sweater on the ribbon-wrapped banister; socks in the hall. Sirius’ pants didn’t even make it across the bathroom threshold, belt clattering on the floor. Remus turned the shower on with his eyes closed because he quite simply could not be bothered to spare more than one hand.

“C’mere,” he murmured into Sirius’ mouth, even as he stepped backward under the spray. “C’mere, don’t move.”

Sirius’ response was wordless and perfect.

Steam built around them, chasing off the chill. The house was decorated. The presents were wrapped. Meals were planned, the dog was busy, and Remus was tired but he was so, so awake now, with ink-black hair wound around his fingers and a boy that held him so the hot water never left him.

Sirius rested his head on Remus’ shoulder and went lax at the drag of a soapy hand over his back. “So good.” His mouth rested at the curve of Remus’ jaw. Every word cooled his skin. “So good to me.”

“Doing my best,” Remus joked with a scritch to his nape.

Sirius raised his head, blinking sleepily around the water that spilled down his face. “I don’t remember the last time I wasn’t scrambling for gifts this time of year.”

“I do.”

“Mm?”

“Last year.” Remus smudged a few soap bubbles down the bridge of his nose. “Shopping for you.”

Sirius’ forehead wrinkled. “Me?”

“I was being cranky,” Remus assured him, running his thumbs over Sirius’ collarbones. He didn’t have a lot of soap left, but he would be shameless and greedy about touching like this. “Lily knocked some sense into me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“The best.”

“And she’s lucky to have you.” A kiss pushed the side of his hair into a cowlick; Sirius grinned as he smoothed it down with one hand. “Trop mignon.”

Hot hot hot hot hot. Remus wrapped both arms around his waist and sank his teeth into the knot of soft muscle above Sirius’ heart. Sirius’ laugh jostled him, but that was fine. He was used to it. “I love the holidays with you.” One last little kiss to his neck, to the spot he had bitten the other night and made Sirius’ leg tremble. “I love you.”

“I’m going to veto every single practice forever.”

“No,” Remus laughed, swaying them back and forth. He covered Sirius’ wicked smile with his hand and kissed the back of it. “No, non, not allowed.”

“But I get kisses and showers and I love you���s and dinner—” His hands skimmed up and down Remus’ sides, running over wet skin with the expertise of someone who knew all his soft spots. “—and you bite me and our dog loves us and we get to see James and Lily tonight—”

Remus cut him off with his lips this time. “Your perfect day,” he whispered, though it was just them in the house. “Sounds pretty close to mine.”

“Copycat.”

“Maybe we should just stick together,” Remus offered. Sirius’ fingertips found his own, lacing together all too easily. “For maximum perfect-day concentration, you know.”

“Nothing else, of course,” Sirius agreed.

“Oh, nothing.”

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“I put mistletoe above our bedroom door when we were decorating.”

“Amateur. I put it on the ceiling above our bed.”

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Secret Santa

I did this last Christmas as well, but this one will be different, as I'm once again using a randomizer to choose characters. For the record, I didn't fix the results except to omit anyone who appeared in last year's list and to nix any repeats in this one. Let's see what gifts they choose!

Thanks to @imtheseventh for requesting that I do this again! :)

1. Marsh gives Spook...a book

Spook: Oh, thank you, but I think Kelsier already got me this book? Marsh: Look more closely. Spook: [holds up two books side by side] Spook: See? Kelsier got me Hemalurgy for Dummies and you got me...oh. Hemalurgy Not For Dummies. Marsh: [taps eye spike knowingly]

2. Spook gives Fort...a coupon

Fort: "Fifty percent off women's slippers"? Spook: I heard you like deals--that was the best one I found! Fort: [pats him on the shoulder] Every bargain hunter has to start somewhere...

3. Fort gives Allrianne...a bracelet

Allrianne: Wow! It's actually pretty nice--thank you! Fort: You're so welcome! Fort: After a lot of hard work, I got it basically for free! Allrianne: You...didn't spend any money on it? Fort: Practically none! You're welcome! Allrianne: ... Fort: What?

4. Allrianne gives Raboniel...a pink dressing gown

Allrianne: What I see when I look at you is a woman who needs to relax and feel beautiful. Raboniel: [carefully examining the robe] Raboniel: No safehand sleeve, I see. Raboniel: Are you trying to seduce me? Allriane: EXCUSE me?! Raboniel: Listen, I get that from human woman more than you'd think..

5. Raboniel gives Elegy...a book of Sudoku puzzles

Elegy: ...I don't understand. Raboniel: I can see that you're trying to fight off the insanity that threatens to consume you. Raboniel: I know...something about that. Raboniel: It is helpful to keep the mind focused, occupied. Elegy: ...with number puzzles? Raboniel: Well, it's either that or going into weapon manufacturing, but Navani gave me a dirty look when I tried to buy you a bomb kit.

6. Elegy gives Marasi...a book

Elegy: My people do not have much, but I collected a book of our native stories for you. Elegy: Since your people seem to want to know about us so badly. Marasi: ...I don't know what that last part means, but thank you! Marasi: Aww, it's a book of stores for kids? How cute! Marasi: ... Marasi: Do they ALL end with children being consumed by ghosts? Elegy: Shades. And yes. Marasi: Thanks anyway? Elegy: What do you mean "anyway"?

7. Marasi gives Vin...a nice pen

Marasi: I-I mean, what do you give the woman who has everything?? Marasi: You did EVERYTHING in your life and set the bar so amazingly high with all of your powerful exploits! Marasi: S-Seriously I couldn't even FATHOM what do get the Ascendent Warrior for Christmas! Marasi: A-Anyway, since you have that nice pen anyway, I-I thought maybe you could sign something for me... Vin: ... Vin: What exactly happens in the future?

8. Vin gives Syl...the design for a mistcloak

Vin: You're sort of wind, right? Vin: Back home, the mists loved to play with the tassels on my mistcloak. I thought wind might be similar. Syl: [has already changed her form so that she appears to be wearing a mistcloak] Syl: Why do I feel so unbelievably cool?? Vin: It has that effect.

9. Syl gives Nale...coal

Nale: ...Are you telling me that I should build a nice fire and relax? Syl (arms crossed, glaring at Nale): I'm telling you that trying to KILL children means you get COAL Nale: The child in question gave me a hug when she confronted me. Syl: Yeah, well, I'm an Honorspren, not an Edgedancer.

10. Nale gives Denth...jail

Denth: ... Denth: It is literally Christmas. Nale: The law cares not for holidays.

11. Denth gives Charlie...a cat plushie

Charlie: [eying the cat plushie nervously] Charlie: Y-You're a bit of a bastard, huh? Denth: I don't know what you're talking about.

12. Charlie gives Marsh...a really nice bottle of rum

Marsh: This looks...expensive. Charlie: W-Well, you know. Charlie: When you draw the literal personification of death out of a hat for Secret Santa, you, uh...don't blow it off. Marsh: ... Marsh: I'm actually quite pleased.

[confettix]

Uhhh hi, Confetti here (duh). So, yesterday after the whole thing with the Weirdos in the kg fandom, sweetlittlelurker and a few of her other friends had spam reported my account and posts for harassment despite me not harassing anybody involved. I didn't wanna risk my account getting banned, so I deactivated it along with my other blog (all seems no well.) This is my new account now, but I won't be posting as much as I used to for mental health purposes. This whole situation has really affected me, especially because sweetlittlelurker had come to me in requests and dms on her THIRD account just to "apologize and explain" herself. Through the messages she sent me, I learned a few things about lenny (sweetlittlelurker) and her supporters.

Number 1: inkiinkichan not only liked one of her posts and actively supports her. But ink also FOLLOWS lenny, showing that they really could not care less about interacting with a creep.

2: Lenny is a ragebait account. But that still does not justify ANY of their actions. Seriously, drawing literal c₽, even as a joke, doesn't make you any less of a terrible person.

And 3: Lenny is NOT a minor. They are 20 years old, and pretended to be younger to "reel in" p3d0philes.

The fact that this is my first post on my new account makes me feel sick, but I had to say it. I don't care if this account gets spam reported again, because i'll just be back with a new one. Lenny had also planned on reporting a bunch of other people's accounts as well, so please keep that in mind and be safe!!! I would advise turning off anon asks (or asks in general), and making sure dms can't be sent by unknown people!

Be safe, and if you come into contact with these people, please PLEASE block and report them!!! I know some people have been Saying they already blocked and reported Lenny, but Lenny themselves confirmed that a lot of those people did infact *not* block them. So please make sure you do that. Same goes for lowkeyloli and starrybabesstuff (I don't know if they are involved in the harassment spam, but they are still associated with Lenny and should not be interacted with.)

[mikashisus]

KID & LEVERET

SYNOPSIS: "i was the leveret in hiding," "kid among beasts of metal and malice." the years in which you and kinich found each other, lost each other, and found each other again in a world riddled with conflict that was intent on keeping you apart.

PAIRING: kinich x gn!reader

TAGLIST ! @wystiix @pneumosia @kazuinvocation @pixelcafe-network

warnings: angst, conflict, implied alcoholism, implied abuse

word count: 4.5k

notes: im so glad i was able to get this done in time, i was rlly scared i wouldn't be able to :') im not rlly happy with the first part of this, but it's fine. this is my secret santa gift for @knnichs !! i hope u like it zira!! <33 i put in a ton of effort to make it as enjoyable as possible despite my less than satisfactory writing 🤕

also, this was loosely based off yaelokre's song "kid and leveret" which i will literally sell my soul for. gonna loop that song for forever when it finally releases, mark my words

The first time you decided to run away from the castle had been when you were seven years old. At the time, your parents had sent every general they could out into the vast fields and forests to search for you.

A lost, small child would be extremely hard to find, but they were confident they would be able to find you. You couldn’t have gone far— after all, you had always been afraid to go outside the royal city’s gates by yourself. 

General Capitano, one of the most elite soldiers in Eirene’s military and one of your father’s most loyal men, had been the one to bring you back within the castle walls. You had kicked and screamed when he found you quite far from the kingdom’s gates. However, your tantrum did not phase him in the slightest. He simply placed you upon his horse and made haste back to the castle to return you to your parents. 

Your mother— bless her soul —had been weeping tears of joy upon your return, and immediately had the maids draw you a bath to rid your skin of the dirt and grime, and your hair of the leaves and twigs. She hadn’t left your side for days after that, for fear of her baby once again slipping through her fingers. 

The second time you attempted to run away from home had been when you were thirteen years old— seven years after your first attempt. It lasted longer than the last. You managed to get to the far outskirts of the kingdom’s vast land before your personal guard (and babysitter), General Capitano, once again found you. You kicked and screamed again, reminding him of the first time you both had gone through this scenario. 

However, just like the last time, he was not phased. He picked you up with ease and perched you on his black horse, taking you back to the castle. 

Your mother paced back and forth in front of the bathtub, her hands on her hips as she bit her lip. The two maids who were washing you eyed her nervously out of the corner of their eyes. One of them even shared an uneasy glance with you. You simply shrugged and stared at your mother, waiting for another one of her long lectures. 

A few tense moments passed, the only sound being the sloshing of the water in the tub and a soap-filled sponge making contact with your skin. Finally, the excruciating silence was broken as your mother turned to face you, her visage riddled with resignation. 

“Leave us.” She addressed the maids quietly, and without a word, the two of them stepped back and fled the room, most likely sensing the oncoming lecture. 

Your mother pulled up a chair next to the tub and sat down, folding her hands neatly into her lap. She nervously fiddled with her fingers as she took a deep sigh. “I’m not angry with you for sneaking out,” she told you softly, “I just want to know why you are so intent on leaving the castle without a guard. You could be hurt, or— or worse, you could die out there! Do you know how many times your brother had left? And what it did to him in the end!?” 

You resisted an eyeroll and a groan of frustration. You heard that story many times. The story of how your older brother, now long gone, had snuck out of the castle in his youth and wound up dead in a river a few weeks later. When your parents had you, they were insistent on never letting you leave the castle under any circumstances— unless you were heavily guarded. 

Understanding their worry, you put up with it for a while. That was until it got to a point where you felt claustrophobic. Being watched at all times was draining, and you felt as if you couldn’t even go to the bathroom without a guard breathing down your neck. You had enough— so you attempted to leave your unhappy life, only to be dragged back. 

“Yes, Mother. I know. You’ve told me this story many times.” You told her, avoiding her worried gaze. 

She grabbed onto one of your hands and held it tightly. “You understand why we worry, yes? You nearly terrified us half to death the last time you slipped away from us.” 

The previous attempt had been because you were curious of the world outside the city’s walls.

“I know, Mother. I’m sorry for worrying you.” You felt a little bad for the anguish you caused her, but deep down, you still had a desire to leave the life your parents were planning out for you. That, and you wished to wander freely without the daunting stone walls caging you in and without an annoying guard to watch over you as if you were a baby. 

You promised your mother that night that you would be reasonable in the future, yet, that was also the last night you ever talked to her. Because that night, you escaped for good. You left the royal city, posing as a guard, and finally, finally tasted the sweetness of freedom that you had been dreaming of for what felt like forever.

Life outside the royal city was harsh, and the weather was even harsher, yet you weren’t completely useless. General Capitano had taught you enough so that you could successfully survive on your own and protect yourself against foes. 

The first village you stumbled upon for solace was a riverside village— one with a number of fishermen and lumberjacks. They welcomed you with open arms, happy to have a new addition to their cozy little home. You didn’t stay long, but their hospitality had always stuck with you. 

One person that always stuck with you was a boy a year younger than you who went by the name Kinich. 

Kinich had been taken in by the others in the village when he was very young, shortly after his parents had passed away. At the time, he had been living in a small hut on the outskirts of the village. When he came stumbling over after all food in his home had run out, the elders of the village took him in with open arms and raised him. 

Kneeling by the riverbed and gathering water into a flask, you spotted something laying in the sand just underneath the shallow water. Your curiosity took over, and you reached forward to pick it up. Your fingers smoothed over its surface as you turned it this way and that, trying to make out what it was in the dying sunlight.

“It’s a seashell.” A voice behind you said.

You jumped and turned, almost falling into the river as you did so. The boy acted quickly, pulling on your arm to prevent you from falling in. As soon as you were safely back onto the riverbed, he let go of you and pointed to the object in your palm. 

“That’s a seashell.”  He repeated.

Your eye twitched and you sent him a look. “I heard you the first time,” you quipped, glancing down at the shell in your palm, “what’s this doing here, anyway? I thought the closest oceanside town was on the other side of the region near Seameet Port?” 

He wasn’t phased by your nasty tone. “It’s from Augustbury. By the shore.” 

Your eyes widened at the name of the desert-side town. “Augustbury is far South… How did you get this? Are you from there?” 

He wordlessly shook his head. “Another nation.” Well, that explained his foreign name. “Came here when I was young. What about you?” 

Looking away from his striking green and yellow eyes, you looked back down at the shell laying in your palm. You turned it over, silently admiring it. You always wanted to see the ocean. Instead, you had been forced to live in a castle in the mountains far up north. But now… you could do whatever you pleased, whenever you pleased. 

You didn’t have a guard breathing down your neck, and no parents to lecture you anymore. You were free. You could roam the continent and see the wonders the world had to offer. You could go to Augustbury. 

Realizing you hadn’t answered his question, you stood up and met his gaze head on, a determined look in your eyes. You made up a lie, claiming you were from Northpass— a small village located on the outskirts of Eirene’s land and a bit north of this one. It was a renowned hunting village, but considerably poor. 

Kinich, who’s expression hadn’t changed from one of stoicism this entire time, took in your words. Whether or not he believed your lie, you didn’t know. But he never asked any further questions, and instead leaned down to pick up another shell laying in the sand. 

“This is a conch. If you put it up to your ear, you can hear the sound of ocean waves.” 

The following two months, you met Kinich at the riverbank, and he told you stories of all kinds of relics he had found in Augustbury by the shore. Each one he picked from his collection had a story behind it. You listened attentively as he entranced you with his voice, and he’d look away from you nervously, not used to such attention being directed his way.

It was only when a herd of royal guards had raided the village that you decided it was time for you to leave. The screaming of the townsfolk as the guards ransacked their houses and threatened to kill anyone who was incompetent rang in your ears for days to come. The sight of blazing fire was burned into the back of your eyelids and the smell of smoke lingered heavily in your nose for weeks. 

The once lively village that Kinich had called his home ever since he was a child had been ransacked and torn, burned completely to ashes by knights who you had once sworn oaths to protect your family. A bitter hatred settled deep in your gut as you witnessed their destruction. 

The last time you set your sights on Kinich had been amidst your escape. His figure was aglow with the light of orange flames, and tears had been streaming down his tan cheeks. The look of utter despair had been one you never saw on him until that moment, and the guilt eating away at your heart never ceased. You had to leave without him, lest the guards find you. 

You never saw him again. The hope you held in your heart for years to see him once more had been snuffed out. 

“Thanks for yer help, Sir!” A sailor saluted Kinich firmly, stumbling on his own feet as he set the barrel of goods down onto the musty deck of the ship. “Without another pair of hands, we might not’ve been able ta load this here ship by sunset!” 

Kinich nodded curtly, taking a glance at the rather old and decrepit ship. “It was no trouble. I’m sworn to help those in need.” 

The sailor waved him off. “Whateva ya say, kid. Hey, ya need a ride back to Eirene?” The sailor wiped off his forehead with a dirty cloth and set it down on the barrel. “We’re headin’ tha’ direction on our way back to Alryne.” 

Kinich mulled over the offer. He wasn’t in a hurry to get back to Eirene by all means. He wasn’t expected back for a few weeks, as he was still on the quest the King had sent him on a month prior. 

The quest had sent him on a wild goose chase to find an ancient relic stolen from the King’s vault by a master thief with no fixed appearance. How he was supposed to find and capture the criminal when he had nothing to go off of regarding their appearance eluded him. 

All the information he was given was that they were last seen here, in Augustbury, and bought a treasure map off a merchant. Kinich had searched the town high and low, asking all around and even finding the merchant who sold the map, only to come up empty handed. 

No one could give him any details. Strange. 

On top of that, the lost royal highness, the King and Queen’s only child, had been spotted in Aeris— right outside the royal capital —just a week ago. Because of that, the kingdom had been bustling with activity and uproar. If someone located and found the missing royal, they would be paid handsomely by the royal family for their efforts. 

Kinich didn’t care much for a rumor, but he did care about the reward. Whatever it was. He’d gladly take the money and flee the continent to the piece of land bordering this region by sea— the northern, barren lands of a mountainous kingdom called Cairnfelle. 

He’d leave the guard and live out the rest of his life there, free of stress or worry. Knowing him, he’d still take up mercenary work. He couldn’t stay still for one moment, after all. 

“I’m not expected back to my post for a while,” he finally answered, “but there is someplace I’d like you to drop me off. It should be on the way.” 

Without another word, he handed a small pouch of mora to the sailor and hopped aboard the ship. 

The Island of Kairos was once said to be home to a magnificent goddess who ruled over time and wind. The legend stated that once, long long ago, the ancient people of Cairnfelle had erected a glorious temple to honor her and sing her praises. 

As the years passed, the temple deteriorated and the people slowly forgot their goddess, leaving the island in a state of disarray. It slowly became a place unwelcoming to outsiders, draped in a thick fog and drawing many ships to shipwreck ashore from the storms raging just on the outskirts of the fog. 

The island was said to have been in a perpetual state of early morning. Whether or not that was true, Kinich was about to find out. 

Many adventurers in their lifetimes had attempted to reach this island, only to get caught in the swirling protecting storms and meet their untimely demise. 

Kinich was risking his life to reach this island. All for a wild goose chase that he was sure was futile. But he had to do this. He was indebted to the royal family, after all. 

The captain of the ship stepped up next to him, a wary look in his eyes. “Are ya sure ya wanna brave that storm, kid?” 

“Yes.”

That was all he said on the matter, and the captain left him alone for the remainder of the trip. 

“We’re nearing the storm, Cap!” A sailor shouted. “What should we do? We’ll get caught up in it!” 

Kinich turned to the crew. “Do you have a rowboat? I’ll go through it on my own.” 

“What!?” One of them cried incredulously. “You’ll die! It’s too risky!” 

He simply shrugged. “I’ve been through worse. Ever fight monsters from the Abyss head on? A dragon, by chance? A god?” 

The crew was silent. He clicked his tongue. “A simple storm is nothing compared to the foes I’ve faced. Now, do you have a rowboat?” 

Bracing the storm was a feat of skill. But he had spent long enough with Eirene’s Naval fleet to get by just fine. 

It was as if the storm was alive. As if it was trying to push him back and prevent him from reaching the shore. But he persisted, despite the amount of saltwater he swallowed and the coldness of the water drenching his hair and armor. 

Finally, in a last ditch effort as he steadily approached the sand, he stood and launched himself off the rowboat and into the shallow water, paving his way to the shore with heavy arms. He coughed, choking up the saltwater that had gotten in his mouth from the swim, and took a few moments to catch his breath. 

He looked up, meeting the sight of looming pillars and the presence of an eerie wind. He had made it. Successfully. 

He laid on the sand for a short while, staring up at the foggy sky with half lidded eyes. All of a sudden, he felt tired. His whole body felt heavy, as if it was being pulled into the earth. His eyes, struggling to stay open, fell closed unwillingly, and he slipped into a deep sleep. 

The image of his parents filled his head, both of them working in tandem in the same one-room house. Confused, he looked around, taking in the sight of the house he had lived in as a child back in Seameet. 

His mother was cutting up their last stash of grainfruits in the kitchen, her hands working diligently as she absentmindedly hummed a tune he hadn’t heard in many years. 

His father stumbled through the doorway, a beer bottle clutched tightly in his hand. His eyes were glazed over with drunkenness, his words slurring together in a mix of something incoherent. 

Kinich felt his stomach drop. His mother’s eyes sharpened as she set down the cutting knife and rounded on her husband. The two began yelling, and he couldn’t hear a word of it over the ringing in his ears. He went rigid, watching the scene play out before him, his lip trembling at the sight of his mother. 

He remembered now. This was the day his mother left and never returned, leaving him alone with his father. 

He knew how this would play out. His father, in a fit of drunken rage, would raise his hand on Kinich’s mother, and leave her sobbing on the floor. She’d continue making dinner, only to stop midway and retreat to the backyard. His father would leave the house to take his anger out elsewhere, and Kinich would be left to cry alone. 

Then, when his father came back, they’d look for his mother, only to find her gone. 

He jolted awake in a panic, clutching his chest as he heaved and tried to make sense of his surroundings. He was still on the Island of Kairos, right in the sand where he had been when he arrived. 

He sighed heavily, his body shaking ever so slightly as he calmed himself down from the memory he relived. Scrunching his brows together, he turned to look up at the gargantuan, deteriorated temple behind him. 

Had that been a lingering effect of the island? 

He stood, his legs a little wobbly, and began his trek into the ancient temple. He searched the place high and low, but it was no use. There was nothing here— no relics, no treasures from a bygone era, just dust and rubble and the lingering scent of dandelions. 

Strange. Dandelions were Cairnfelle’s trademark…

Had someone been here recently? He decided to do one more check of the perimeter, just to be safe. He scanned the walls, looking for anything out of place that could give away a hidden room of sorts. He pressed along the stone, his patience running thin the more he searched and came up empty handed. 

There had to be something here. He could feel it. 

He slammed his fist against the wall in frustration, only to hear an eerie creaking of stone. He looked up, his eyes widening as the wall opened and revealed some sort of ritual room. It was filled with incense, freshly picked cecilia flowers, and dandelion seeds laying on an ornate plate on the altar in the center. 

He took one step forward, only for his vision to go dark. 

“Are you sure about this?” Leena questioned, glancing over at you as she leaned over the unconscious body of the man you knocked out in the temple. 

You shrugged. “Not really, but this sword’s incredible!” You gently ran your fingers over the blade. “This’ll sell nicely! Imagine the reward they’ll pay for a captain of the royal guard’s weapon! Lady Kairos is smiling upon us today!” 

Leena sent you a deadpan look and sighed heavily. She stood up straight and placed her hands on her hips. “You’re insufferable, you know that?” 

Despite the insult, there was a fond smile on her lips. She took the sword from your hands and slid it back into its scabbard. “And stop touching it with your grubby hands! If you really want it to sell, then you can’t smudge the metal!” 

You raised your hands in surrender and took a step back. “Alright alright!” You snatched the sword from her hands and smirked as you gazed down at the man laying on the deck of your ship. 

Leena glanced at you. “What are we gonna do with him?” 

“He came all the way out here for our heads. I’d love to return the favor by cutting off his, but he’s useless as a dead man. We’ll send a ransom note to their royal shitasses.” 

She winced. “Will that even work? The King and Queen of Eirene don’t really care about their captains. The only thing they’ve ever cared about is finding their lost child.” 

“It’ll work.” You said confidently, gazing out at the pristine sea. 

The island was far from view now, only a speck on the horizon. A small part of you felt empty upon leaving. You had done your utmost to start rebuilding the temple to its former glory, starting with that ritual room. Ever since, you’ve received nothing but good luck. 

Fate, and Lady Kairos, was surely smiling upon you for your good natured efforts. 

“It’ll work because this man’s no ordinary captain,” you turned to glance at him again, his face ringing a bell in your mind, “he holds a beast within him. One that could destroy everything we hold dear. He’s Eirene’s ace in the hole— the one thing they care about.” 

Leena searched your face, a look of uneasiness in her verdant eyes. She bit her lip. Her orange-brown skin glowed under the dying sunlight.

With a huff, she let out a hesitant, “Fine. I trust you, Captain.” 

Your well thought out plan was in full swing, and it was only a matter of time before your prisoner awoke from his beauty sleep. Tasking your best friend and trusted right hand to look after him, you tended to that stubborn cannon down below the deck with another one of your crew. 

Leena sat next to the prisoner, tying knots into ropes and occasionally tossing a grape into her mouth from the bowl sitting to her left. 

The man next to her stirred, and she jumped as he began to struggle against his binds. His striking eyes met hers, and a chill ran down her spine. He clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at her. 

“Release me.” 

“I’m sorry. I cannot.” 

They stared at each other for a few long and tense moments, before a small voice called out. “Auntie Leena!” 

She panicked, her eyes widening as she spotted her nephew running towards her with a full plate of food in his hands. He dodged past the other crew members, the food almost slipping off the plate. 

“Yanqing! Stay away from here, you’re supposed to be in the Captain’s quarters!” She jumped forward, stopping the little boy from getting any closer to the prisoner. 

He held the plate up, sending her a wide-toothed smile. “Look! Momma and I made you food! Well, I made it all by myself and she watched!” 

She took the plate from him and ruffled his blonde hair. “Very good! I’m proud of you.” She sent him a warm smile. 

He basked in her praise, before his golden eyes landed on the prisoner behind her. His eyes sparkled as he saw the intricate gold armor, the same shade of his very own eyes. He stared at the man in awe. 

You swung down from one of the masts, skidding onto the deck with practiced ease and waltzing over to the prisoner with a confident stride. 

The man’s eyes widened upon seeing you, his mouth falling open in utter shock. As you opened your mouth, he interrupted, your name falling from his lips. 

The smirk on your lips vanished, replaced with a tight-lipped frown. Leena glanced between the two of you, her eyes calculating as her brows furrowed. 

“Do you know him, Cap?” 

You didn’t  answer, staring the man you once knew directly in the eyes. He had changed. He was no longer the scrawny kid with an air of despair around him. He wasn’t the same kid that collected seashells and could talk for hours about the stories behind each one. 

There was no fire in his eyes. Not anymore, at least. 

He was firmly built, with defined muscles and a set jaw, and a bandanna wrapped around his forehead. He was cloaked head to toe in Eirene’s standard Sunfleet armor. He had joined the very people who tore down the village he once called home. 

You had nothing left in you but disgust. How could he join them when they took everything from him? 

If there was a deeper reason why, you wouldn’t hear it. You wouldn’t listen to reason, not when Eirene had taken everything from you. Well, almost everything. 

Yanqing gripped your leg, and you placed a comforting hand on his head. “Go with Auntie Leena. Momma has work to do, okay?” 

The small boy of eight nodded and took Leena’s hand. The woman next to you sent you a look that screamed ‘we’re going to talk about this later’, and followed the little boy to the other end of the ship. 

“Long time no see, Kinich.” 

Kinich nodded ever so slightly. “Where have you been all these years?” 

You gestured to the ship. “Saving up enough for this. I see you’ve joined Eirene.” You crossed your arms over your chest, the scowl on your lips a sharp sight. 

His expression softened. “You still hate Eirene…” 

“They took everything from me. And they did the same to you.” You spat. “Why on Kairos’ green earth did you join up with the enemy!?” 

A small silence passed as he glanced around the ship, avoiding your gaze. “After Eastlily fell, the Captain of the Guard showed up. He slaughtered the remaining men who burned down our village and offered us a safe haven within Eirene’s royal capital. I’m indebted to not only him, but the King and Queen who showed their kindness to us.” 

The mention of the King and Queen ruffled your feathers, and you slammed your fist into the wall above his head. His eyes wandered back to you, and he shuffled in his binds. 

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the rising anger. You stepped back. “You’re not going back to Eirene. Not unless I get what I want.” 

“And that is?” 

You leaned down, your face inches from his. His striking eyes took in your features, lingering a little too long on your lips. 

With a smirk, you giggled softly. “Revenge.”

notes: i procrastinated so hard with this piece, but im happy with the ending at least!! i'll definitely write a part 2 in the future since we haven't even scratched the surface of the mc and kinich's relationship in this au 😭 i might make it a bunch of small oneshots and turn it into a series that way! idk we'll see (mc is around 27-28 in the last timeskip, and kinich is 26. at the age of 19, mc fell in love with someone from cairnfelle and they had a child together. a few years later, that person was killed in the war between eirene and cairnfelle.) yes, yanqing is the same yanqing from hsr!! he'll be showing up as the mc's son in my neuvi fic as well bc the mc from this fic and the one from my neuvi fic r almost the same person! the only difference between them is that THIS mc is royalty and also gn, while the mc from "abandon ship" is the daughter of a sailor and specifically said to be a woman. and YES, our lovely leni made an appearance!! <33 it'll be mentioned later on in "abandon ship," but leni's real name is leena! she switched it after people in fontaine kept mispronouncing her name as "leni". tired of correcting them, she decided to go by the name leni instead. it's kind of a nickname now :))

© 2024 mikashisus. do not plagiarize, copy, repost, feed to ai, or translate my works to any other platforms.

[toadletthefirst]

Rant about prisoner-cage

While talking with a friend, I suddenly came up with this artistic monologue about why I relate to the cage so much. And they said I should write it down. So here it is! Might be helpful for writing characters with similar mindsets or to anyone in a similar situation.

TW for mentions of self-harm, medical issues, and violence 

Prisoner-Cage narrative as an allegory of self-harm and its consequences

At the core, there was always a dynamic in you. Your legs were ready to run, your arms were raised in an attempt to defend yourself, your eyesight was sharp and widespread to see the danger. But there was no movement to use it. There never was a place to flee. There was no one you could fight. And all you could do was watch.

Trapped in solitude, your mind raced in search of salvation, while the body kept screaming in need of escape. Here it is: suddenly, there was no you. It's you and It, together. And It can't survive since it can't flee. It was being destroyed by its own irrelevance: legs got weaker, arms became fragile, eyes were blackened by tears, and jaw was broken by pleading, but there was no mercy from the danger. The hazard looks back. It doesn't know the language of the pitiful. 

[the construct influences the princess, which makes her a threat even before TLQ sees her. Since he took the knife, there is no point in showing sorrow—the world is already unempathetic to you]

So the mind takes control over the body. You observe the pattern, you learn the language of the threat, you speak in an unknown manner to please any visitor in hope they would become your savior. Cries, and rage, and everything that was alive in you never helped, so you turn it off. And sometimes, the public listens. 

[how prisoner appears after talking to the base princess: she only uses her voice, knowing that any physical action can trigger change in TLQ's attitude]

 You draw the conclusion: if restraint of your physic helped you to survive, then the physic itself was the root of the problem. Your mind can be at peace in any conditions, and in the perseverance find a path to escape - but your body never could. It never came up with answers, only with constant longing in the tight cell.  It was the prison. You'll do your best to make it fit your requirements.

[This idea is confirmed even more by the narrator taking advantage of TLQ, whose perception builds upon this revelation, strengthening it even more in the next chapter]

In this moment of realization, you become the vanquisher of the body. All these years, It was the one who caused the pain. It might not have been the reason, but it surely was the beginning. It was the obstacle keeping you from the escape. With this knowledge, you thwart any attempts at rebellion. You are not your body, and you are not with your body, but you are against it. 

One might say you literally cut your head off. You clear your mind of any presence of the body. And you do it by harming yourself directly. 

In this power you find the freedom you wished for. Now you're the one to punish, and does it really matter who is the target if you are the one holding the strings? So you do all it takes to stay in control of this weak changeable substance, to achieve the goal of salvation. And you find your resolve. And you finally break free.  

But the freedom it gives is temporary.

And at one moment, It strikes back. That's when the cage starts.

Suddenly, you can't make it do anything anymore. No matter how much you push, it declines to work. You can't think clearly anymore. You can't decide anymore. You are not in control anymore—the body is. And It is relentless. Not because of the hate or the vengeance, but out of the simple deterioration. You can't ignore it anymore. Because it starts to act without you. It decides when to faint, indifferently to your wish to stand, and when to panic, no matter how you're sure of the safety, and, the worst one, when to ache. Desperate, prolonged pain throughout all your nerves, making it impossible to think.

How can you outsmart It now, when It dictates all your course of thoughts?

You always knew how weak your body was, but you could always compensate for it with your sheer will. Now you can't. Now it's far stronger than your mind. And you are getting weaker.

You start changing for It. You give up on fighting. You start caring—something you should've started a long time ago. But who are you, if not this will encroaching for the sake of freedom? You've become something littler. You are the routine your body dictates to keep it alive. You are once again that trapped victim you were before. And at this time, not because of the circumstances, but because of yourself. The only path to escape you knew was ruined, because even in your mind there is no peace anymore.

That was basically the state I was in when seeing the cage for the first time.

That's why seeing the "no escape" ending was so therapeutic for me. Of course there is no exit from the cycle. There is no harm without continuation, and no action of my own could be outside of the paradigm since no deed could be outside of the self I'm linked to. Once hurt, it hurts back and gets hurt again. But maybe there is a peace in that. Maybe I can never stop the swinging of the metronome, but at least I can find peace in its rhythm. After trying to be the winner, I came only to a tie, so I might as well agree on it before putting more effort into violence. I'll never be as ingenuous as I was, and I don't want to be as imperious as I tried to be, and it's fine. I'll make my peace by being patient. It can ache, and I'll ache with it, but it's fine. I won't try to be something bigger. I'll love some littler things. It's finally time to rest.

***

So, just to make myself clear, a quick recap of how self-harming behavior falls under the narrative of this story: Your natural reactions failed to provide safety, so you silence them and develop a strategic voice of reason—[the hero and the princess pre-prisoner]. Then you start seeing your body as another obstacle to freedom, and in trying to deny its impact on you, you hurt it— [the prisoner cuts her head off]. And once you've reached the point of destruction that is too great, you finally start seeing consequences of what you've done, and now the sick body starts to dictate its rules of how to stay alive. And you are in a trap once again— [the cage].

Of course it's not the only way to view this route, and it's not the only theme it covers. But this reading is very important to me, so I'll be glad if you enjoyed it just as much

So let me know if you read it till the end! Any discussion is appreciated

[skyfallart]

On the night of November 6th, 1983, twelve year old Jimmy Kern* heads back home from a night out with his friend. However… he never arrives. Now, Craig, Clyde, and Token must band together to find out what happened -- while getting entangled with supernatural forces... and a supernatural kid.

^Fan S1 Poster - S1 Redrawn Scenes

A/N: I don't what possessed me to write/draw this, but here it is. Since this an AU there has and will be changes. For now I just listened below the characters in the poster, and who their Stranger Things counter part is. I'm finishing up some scenes I redrawn, so hopefully I can get those up too (And introduce you to more people in the universe).

So, first up, we got the boys. We got...

° Craig Tucker - 12 - Dungeon Master/Thief - Middle Child - "Leader" of the group. Basically, I saw fan art of Creek being Mileven and I just had to try doing it on my own. Craig, just like in SP, is like the leader of his own group in this AU. I also made his D&D counterpart the same as TSoT, a thief instead of a paladin. But despite being a thief, he's still the heart of the group. Just like in Stranger Things, he's the one to find and allow Tweek to stay in his home. ° Token "Tolkien" Black || 12 || Ranger || Only Child || "Brawns over Brains" of the group. Still a bit of a rich kid in this AU, and lives with his two parents. He tends to butt heads with the others when Tweek comes into the story, feeling a bit left out and untrusting of the kid with superpowers; But eventually that all gets cleared up. In this AU, he's the one that goes to camp in S3, and has a long distance relationship with his GF, `Nicole, whom he met at camp. ° Clyde Donovan || 12 || Elf Cleric || Only Child || The "Voice of Reason" of the group. Lives with his single mother, Betsy, and their cat: Mr. Kitty (Stealing Cartman's cat here for this). I see him sharing a lot of traits with Dustin, but he's also a bit like Lucas too in this AU (He's more of the sporty one, and his GF, Bebe appears in S2 taking the place of Max). ° 011 - AKA: "Tweek" (Later: Tweek Marsh) - 12 - Mage - Superpowered Lab Rat Same kind of origin, stripped away from his mother and placed inside South Park Lab. After escaping he's found by the boys and ends up staying at Craig's house. He has the 011 tattoo on his wrist, but instead of being given the name "El", Craig gives him the name "Tweek" because of his fidgety moments (I see him being spazzy in this AU from the stress he felt from the lab, rather than the drug-induced coffee).

Then, we got the Kerns, which replaces the Byers. Seeing that Sharon has multiple last name's in SP, I chose Kern 'cause it sounded better than the others.

° Jimmy Valmer Kern - 12 - Bard - Youngest Child - "Ride or Die" Comedy until he's very last breath. May or may not have punched Vecna in the face while in the upside down. I unfortunately have to make our poor boy Jimmy as Will. I promise he won't be as neglected once he returns like his ST counterpart. He's D&D character is a bard like in TSoT, and for now, I have to romance planned for him. Just good old family love.

° Sharon Kern - 40s - Single Mother - Will do anything for her children. I thought she was the perfect choice for Joyce after seeing the "Spooky Fish" episode. Sharon literally was burying bodies for her son Stan, and making sure he wouldn't end up in jail (For something he didn't do). I could definitely see this woman communicating with X-Mas lights to find her son. ° Older! Stanley Kern - 16 - Oldest Child - Excellent Photographer - Can actually talk to girls without vomiting. And yes, we're getting Blond Stan in this AU because I said so. I made him Jonathan in this AU after deciding who was going to be playing Nancy. Stan's kind of an outcast until he meets Wendy, who's trying to look for his lost friend, while he looks for his brother. Together, with their determination combined, they'll make anything work.

Other Characters. We've got...

° Older! Wendy Testaburger Tucker - 16 - Older Child - Total Badass in the second half of the 1st season. Typical sibling love-hate relationship w/Craig. After realizing her friend has gone missing under mysterious circumstances, typical "All-American" girl Wendy transforms into someone better, as she will do anything to find out what happen. She teams up with Stan... giving her boyfriend the wrong idea (Not spoiling who the BF is just yet). ° Randy Marsh - 40s - Town Sheriff - Has the hots for local single mother, Sharon (If it isn't obvious). Randy, just like Hopper, in this AU had an ex-wife and a daughter who passed (Sorry, Shelley). He lives a sad life of donuts and alcohol, until the search for Jimmy sparks something inside of him, and spirals his life into the supernatural forces caused by the lab. He eventually has to get Sharon involved to solve this crime. ° Dr. Alphonse Mephesto - 50s - Genetic Engineer/Crazed Local Scientist - "Papa" to a lot of children that ain't even his (I mean, he named his kids after numbers. Can we call CPS now?). I didn't know who else to pick, but for some reason Mephesto might actually be a good choice for Brenner. You'll learn more about him later on.

For now, that's all I got. I'll try to finish those screencaps soon! (And if anyone's interested, maybe I'll write a fanfic? Or a fan-comic?)

[helluverse-rewrites]

kind of random but ! viv desperately needs to try smth other than animal motifs for her symbolism. I know animals are an easy choice for things like that, but her dependence on it is a (small) part of what makes her designs so ass.

It gets to the point to where characters have the same motif and for what? They're not connected. The least she could do is make them connected. (for example in my hazbin hotel redesigns i made all the angels have bird motifs. vaggie is a dove, adam is a rooster, lucifer a duck) I know kemonomimis and furries are fun to draw but sometimes its just plain confusing and overused. Esp when she puts more focus on that than shapes or colors or even personality sometimes! I guess I'd love to see more characters based on objects or even common phrases, fairytales, time periods, abstract concepts. Yk? There are more of these in helluva boss (even though theyre highly LACKING), some background characters are like this in hazbin. I can see the 7 sins are somewhat based on their concept, but again its lacking, because she always goes back to her animal things. And I know this whole helluverse started out with zoophobia or wtv but cmon. Whys valentino a moth? I dont know any symbolism of the moth that ties in with val, or even how he died. He'd generally be better as a shadow or a puppet master, given hes deceptive and manipulative. The animal motifs often feel tacked on, too. Like a last minute thought, or like a design first-story later thing. Which even if they are, it shouldn't feel that way. It's really just a pet peeve of mine I guess because a lot of people including 14 yr old me thought these characters were soooo high concept and unique when really they somehow have worse design principals/patterns than Spongebob (not an insult to my boy spongebob though, theyre all just sea creatures they dont need to be high concept). Animals are literally the most overused, easy way to tell the audience something (or nothing). Like jesus christ its like whatever goal they have for a character they go hmmmmmm this is hard Ill just give them cat ears ^^.

Oh my god you're right

Angel Dust doesn't even look like a spider, and Alastor looks nothing like a deer. Istg the Valentino concept is way more interesting than whatever Viv did

You're telling me that Asmodeus is supposed to be a rooster. Likely story but okay Ig :/

I just think that the shows could've branched out a bit more than just animals

[loolilyumm]

I am screaming. Sobbing. Girlboss and fail-wife is my favorite dynamic. The way you draw is so pretty and your colors are so good plus people who draw 3 with sanitization scars are literally so cool I mean look at acht, there’s canonical examples of it. But literally going aaaa rn because I love your ocs.

We got Reese and Margot, how about 4 and 8?

OMG AHH IM SO SOSOSO HAPPY YOU LIKE THEM..AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE ASKS I LOVE ANSWERING THEM!! 🫶🫶🫶

I want to yap about my agents in separate posts so this one will be all about 8!

THIS IS OLIVE! She became agent 8 in the deepsea metro and has been a super active agent in the NSS ever since! They are like family to her - she lived with Pearl and Marina for almost 3 years before moving in with Reese! (Captain/Agent 3)

She was 14 during splatoon 1, and 16 during the events of octo expansion. Now in splat 3 she is 19!

She mains the dark tetra dualies but can use any weapon. She's super fast and agile so she likes weapons that work well with her speed.

She was an elite solider in the octoling army - she had just become one before she was ambushed by Cuttlefish and agent 3 (Reese) and they all fell into the metro.

None of them ended up falling in the same area of the metro, and Olive ended up being found by Tartar’s sanitized octolings and taken to the sanitation chambers to have her memory erased.

Side tangent - I have a specific idea in mind about how octolings are sanitized. If you want to watch this video, it explains it really well - https://youtu.be/zu4czvg5ClI?si=wFz1lABgkv7hz8Wk

But TLDR, there are 2 stages of sanitization. Stage one includes being wiped of all memories. The subject then has to go through a series of tests and trials before Tartar decides what to do with them based on how well they did. Then they get either blended or brainwashed into oblivion! 😆😆 woohoo yay! J think based on the side order diaries it kind of confirmed that 8 went through that first process…it just never said how so I made that part up. Lol

ANYWAY..!!! At the same time Olive is taken, Reese wakes up and begins searching for captain Cuttlefish. He doesn’t find him, but you know what he does find??!!?!?

WHOAAA WOWWW HE FINDS OLIVE

He’s like holy cow..! That’s the girl that was just attacking me…😦 and he’s like ahhh! I gotta help her!

But by the time the two of them make it out, he realizes that it’s too late. Her memory was completely wiped. The sanitization doesn’t leave any physical effects on her except for her eyes - they turned turquoise. The same color as the sanitized ink.

The two of them needed to find a way to find cuttlefish and get out of this creepy place, so they kept moving. Pretty soon they made their way into a train station and found cuttlefish waiting for them there!! And there was also a weird telephone that told Olive she was the newest test subject - and that passing all these trials was the key to getting her memories back and getting to the “promised land.”

Reese just went along with it because he assumed that was what octolings called the surface. He wanted to be a test subject too so he could help Olive, but the phone rejected him. No inklings allowed!

She was forced to go through hundreds of rigorous tests. She wanted more than anything to get back her memories and reach paradise. As she regained more memories, she realizes how different her old life was from the kindness these inklings were showing her now (and the two people on the radio called Pearl and Marina!). It just propels her toward finishing the tests, pushing herself to her limit, doing it not just for herself but for all of them.

She forms a really deep bond with these inklings. Cuttlefish is like a grandfather to her. Reese makes her heart flutter in ways she doesn’t even understand.

As the tests go on, she regains muscle memories from her days as an elite solider. She’s good at fighting. Really good. But these tests are really hard. 8 knows she can do it, but they’re really, really hard. And all these bad memories aren’t helping.

Through blood, sweat, and tears, Olive finally collects the 4 thangs and they can finally go to the surface! She is so proud of herself and feels on top of the world. Cuttlefish and Olive take the thangs to the telephone and wait for Reese, who’s out exploring the metro (one of the things he does to take up time and secure their safety). But the telephone is telling them they gotta go NOW and they can’t wait for Reese!

Cuttlefish and Olive say nope, nope, not happening. So they are forced into the blender and AHH!! OH NO VERY BAD!! EVERYONE FLIPS OUT AND…!!!

Reese appears and THROWS HIMSELF at the blender. Surprisingly, it works. The three of them leave the telephone and super jump through the hole Reese made in the ceiling. They’re going to get to the surface themselves.

Somewhere around the 4th phase, they are ambushed by a group of sanitized octolings. Olive gets separated from Reese and Cuttlefish. She is forced to keep moving and hope that they have made it to the elevator before her.

They have, but not in the way she thought! When she sees Reese’s partial sanitation, she doesn’t want to hurt him and holds back, resulting in herself getting injured very badly. She realizes this isn’t the friend she knows, and manages to defeat three and rescue him from brainwashing.

Soon after that she also saves the whole world and defeats Tartar. PERRIOODDD!! #slaythehousedown #girlboss

Reese and Olive got into a relationship soon after the events of octo expansion. They help each other through all the trauma of what happened down there and are the bestest friends and love each other so so much! Yay!!

And Olive got a new family that she loves so so much. YAYYY!!

AS OF SPLATOON 3…EBERYONE IS DOING AMAZING!! YAY!! Agent 4 is Olive’s new bestie. Margot (New agent 3) is like the little sister she never had. She and Reese have moved in together. She still does regular missions for the NSS and treats it as a full time job. She’s so proud of Reese for becoming captain. She couldn’t think of anyone more deserving.

I still haven’t decided what really goes down during the events of side order - I didn’t love that it was all a simulation, so idk how I’d write around that. I’ll figure it out! But for now, Let’s just say it’s not very fun for Olive.

BUTTTTT after the events of side order, she regains all of her lost memories (she left a few behind in Kamabo) and rediscovers herself.

HOLY CANNOLI I wrote a lot. I think about Olive so much and I hope you guys love her as much as I do.

If you guys have any questions about them whatsoever, please PLEASE feel free to send over an ask! I love answering them!!

IF YOU MADE IT THIS FAR…I love u. Mwah!

[agent-yolk-writes]

A Nightmare in Devildom (Obey Me/Nightmare on Elm Street concept fic)

Basically what it says on the tin. A "what if MC was a survivor of freddy kreuger's torment before the events of OM" concept fic.

This is was of those weird ideas I came with this during the early covid lockdown period where my insomnia got really bad to the point where I was borderline delirious. I meant to get this out during October for spooky season vibes but after three Octobers came and went and Obey Me isn't getting any more updates, I figure I throw it into the pit before that happens. No beta we die like obey me as a franchise, I guess!

If this inspires you to write something similar, please let me know! If you want me to write more...please reconsider!

And, of course, happy holidays!

AO3 Mirror Link

Good lord, I look terrible. You thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. When was the last time I got some rest?

Other than looking more visibly tired, you look...older. It was the face of a nurse finally coming home after back-to-back double shifts. The bags under your eyes could only get so dark, but thankfully you knew a demon who had so much concealer and foundation lying around that he wouldn’t know if a few went missing. 

You knew you shouldn’t be continuing this habit, but you can’t help it. Despite living in a mansion with the most powerful demons in Literal Hell(!!) in the past few weeks your brain is still not convinced that you’re safe from Him . Would he still have the balls to terrorize you still? Does he even know where you are? Surely he’ll just know when you disappeared without a trace, but you can’t afford to find out for yourself. 

As much as you wanted to tell the brothers, you didn’t want to drag them into this mess. After all, this problem only started just weeks before you were brought here. It came without warning, and suddenly it turned into a bloodied hurricane. To think He was the one that killed your friends and classmates back in the human world…you regretted not being able to do more for them until you were in His sights.

This opportunity with the exchange program was either a saving grace or a divine intervention, and you’re not going to let that chance slip away from you. You have the whole year to work on magic and potions and anything else that could possibly drive Him away if not kill him for good, and you highly doubt he’s going to forget about you. Knowing how to do magic is one thing, but putting it to memory is another. This wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t so damn tired. You’re trying so hard to pay attention in class, but you just end up more focused on trying to keep your eyes open lest you allow Him to strike at your most vulnerable. 

However, there is one possible solution. The only problem is that you needed to form a pact with his other brothers before he could even consider helping you, that slothful bastard. Belphegor knows how tired you are and how you would do anything for a safe and peaceful rest. There was no point hiding it from him as you were with the others. Oh, how you envied the way he could sleep the day away in his little prison cell…you could just punch him if only you had the strength.

…

You really didn’t feel good about the multi-layered lie you found yourself webbed into to get the pacts in the first place. You recently got Beelzebub’s pact, putting you at the halfway mark. He looked so happy about your ‘plan’ to impress Lucifer enough to have him make up with Belphegor that it made your stomach churn in shame. Is it really okay for you to do this? Wouldn’t it be easier to tell the truth? Out of all the brothers, you couldn’t help but feel guilty for lying to Beel.

But what if Lucifer points his finger at Belphegor if you bring it up before you’re able to finish explaining? Would it destroy all the progress you made? Would you make things worse ? If they draw parallels that your deprivation is somehow related to the seventh-born’s sleep-related powers…only Lucifer would have an answer different from the other five. That’s why you have to keep up this facade for as long as you can. That’s why you need to stay awake. To find a way to protect yourself as well as the others. 

Your new friends at Purgatory Hall, bless their hearts, were none the wiser. Considering two of them were actual angels, you would’ve expected at least Luke to confront you with tears in his eyes about your health at least a month in. He makes a big talk about how you should never trust ‘those demons’ before having lunch with Beelzebub. Sometimes you think Solomon is giving you weird looks whenever you make eye contact with him. It’s probably the sleep-deprived paranoia, but you hope it’s nothing. You’ve been getting away with it for this long, so what? 

Tomorrow you have to stay over at Diavolo’s castle as part of an exchange party sleepaway camp or something. If you’re lucky, you can have a room for yourself. You don’t pack your go-to methods for staying awake until right before everyone heads out.

~

The steaming heat of the boiler room did not warm the chill in your bones one bit. 

You should know the inner workings of this hellscape by now. It was His favorite hunting ground, after all. However, something seems different this time. Everything felt…a bit shifted to the right, in a way. On top of that, there’s no sight or sound of Him anywhere. No taunting catchphrases, no spooky teleports he’s fond of doing, not even the shilling sound of his claw on metal when he’s close. This is probably his new trick, you think. Lulling you into a false sense of security before-

You turned around, involuntary flinching as you braced yourself to be hit. Only to process seconds later that nothing’s coming. In fact, there was no sign of life behind you in the first place. Damn it, he really was playing with you at this point. As soon as you let out a sigh of relief, you heard someone screaming from the other side of the room. You couldn’t tell who they were, but that’s not going to stop you. You ran towards the sound before you let the dread wash over you. 

“I’m coming!” You yelled at them. “Wake up! He can’t hurt you if you’re awake!” You were so focused on tilting your head up to project your voice to the other person that you didn’t realize you hit a dead end until you ran into a wall of pipes. “Oh, god damn it!” You cursed, pivoting on your foot to turn around and run even faster. 

What happened next happened too fast. You didn’t know where you were going. Everything is starting to blur together. A pipe managed to burst the same second you turned your head to follow the noise, immediately blinding your vision with steam and a “Shit!” jumping out of your mouth. The suddenness of it all made you lose your momentum and you feel yourself stumbling forward. You didn’t have time to brace yourself for the sharp object that’s going right through your- 

You wake with an audible gasp, hands going up to your throat. The sound of your racing heart and your uneven breathing replace the sounds of pipes and steam. You looked around in the darkness and could barely see two bodies sleeping in their respective beds. Ah, that’s right. This is the first night of Diavolo’s retreat, and you find yourself paired to a room with Asmodeus and Simeon. In an attempt to pretend you’re asleep ended up having you fall asleep for real. You couldn’t help but think how pathetic you were for letting your guard down for one second and falling into His hands again after so long all because you were waiting for someone to finish their 20-step overnight skin routine.

With a shuddered sigh, you carefully slipped out of your bed and into the hallway in hopes you could clear your thoughts without disturbing your roommates. 

Thanks to the occasional jittering of a Little D doing their nightly duties, the halls of a demon lord’s castle don’t feel as haunted as you would think. The lights were dimmed but not out completely, which gave way for the moon to shine in as its own source of light. Had you been carrying a candle in a brass holder you would’ve thought you stumbled into one of those old gothic novels. You didn’t have a real destination in mind, but you made sure you remembered which room you were assigned to just in case. 

At some point during the night, you ended up in one of the lounge rooms, curled up on a couch facing the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, and looked up at all the stars. It has always been a comfort for you. You even began reading about them in an attempt to stay awake back in the human world. You thought you could recognize some of the constellations, but there are always a few stars here and there that turn it into an unrecognizable shape. At least you have new material to read about when you’re back in your room at the House of Lamentation. 

The soft calling of your name from the door broke your serene silence followed by a, “Is that you?”

A small gasp managed to escape your throat before you were able to put your hands over your mouth. You curled into yourself at first so whoever it was can’t see your head poking out from the back. After a few seconds, it finally clicked as to who it was.

Sheepishly, you stick your head out. “Hi, Barbatos.” You said, voice croaking in unexpected use. Even though it was dark and his figure obscured, you could make out that he was holding some kind of tray. “Am I not supposed to be here? I’m sorry. I’ll go back and…”

“It’s fine.” He assured you. “I heard someone walking around, so I’ve taken the liberty to brew some chamomile tea for them should they feel restless. Would you like some?”

“...”

Tea does sound nice, but the fact that it was chamomile made you hesitate. At the same time, Barbatos just made it, so it would be rude to let it go to waste.

“...That would be nice. Thank you.”

He made his way over to the other side of the couch. Part of you wanted to sit up and be proper when drinking, but even thinking about adjusting your posture makes you tired. Still, you make an effort to reach over to take the tea cup from the butler’s hands. Barbatos took this opportunity to start talking. 

“This is your first time spending the night at a castle, I presume?” You made an affirmative noise as you sipped, not wanting to point out that it’s not just any castle you’re sleeping at. “I reckon slipping in a new bed right as you got settled in would put anyone’s nerves on edge.”

You put your cup down as you replied, “I guess you can say that.” 

He looks at you quizzically. “Is something amiss? I’ll inform the Young Master right away.”

“It’s…It’s fine, Barbatos. Thanks for worrying.” You took another sip before letting out a sigh. “I’ve always had trouble sleeping, you can say. I get…these really bad nightmares that make me stay up for days on end. They were so terrifying and real…I kept wondering if I was losing my mind. I’ve tried every remedy in the book to stop them but…” You stopped to let a yawn out. “Sorry…As I was saying, I tried everything the doctors thought could help me. They even brought in a priest thinking it was ‘dream demons’ or something.” You paused, replaying the last thing you said. “Are dream demons even a thing here?”

“They are a form of lesser demons, yes.” The butler answered. “They’re relatively harmless as individual beings, but can pose a threat in large numbers or if they get close to a human.”

“Well, that’s reassuring.” You told him bitterly. 

“If it brings you any comfort, just know that they’re not powerful enough to be able to enter the human world on their own. Only certain powerful demons have the authority to travel to that realm directly. Such as the Young Master and Lucifer, for example.”

You couldn’t help but huff out air through your nose in relief. Suck on that, Pastor John. 

“...So yeah. Just before I was summoned here, they put me on a clinical trial for a medication that…reduces? Suppress? It, like, stops giving me dreams entirely, and they work. Forgot the name though. And I coincidentally ran out just before I was transferred here so…yeah.” Your eyes looked over to the butler. “Sorry I didn’t mention it earlier, I guess. I keep getting roped into whatever the brothers get themselves into that I never really had time to check on myself.”

Barbatos didn’t respond immediately. You were too busy concentrating on balancing the tea on your stomach to spare a glance over to your nighttime companion to see what kind of face he was making. Would he make one? Shouldn’t he have known of this malady when your file was being processed? Maybe, because of their biology, demons don’t worry about these kinds of conditions. You mulled around internally in a tired haze before realizing that your eyes were slowly creeping shut. With a soft sigh, you moved the plate to the nearest table and stood up slowly.

“Anyways, thanks for the tea. Compliments to the chef.” You couldn’t help but let out a big stretch followed by an even bigger yawn. “I’ll head back to bed now. No guarantee I’ll sleep though.” You let out a huff that was supposed to be your attempt at a dry laugh. “You should get some rest too. Big day ahead, y’know? See you in the morning.” And with that, you exited the room and into the dim hallway.

The small smile Barbatos had dropped as soon as your back was turned to him. It was no secret that your time as a transfer student was being hindered by your lack of sleep. Even your recent medical file was perplexing in figuring out the cause of this disorder. It’s not genetic nor was it caused by a major traumatic event. Perhaps it’s something else? You did mention dream demons, after all, albeit it was more of a speculative idea that was brought up by your doctors in order to get a man of the cloth involved. It definitely couldn’t be Belphegor’s meddling, he thinks. He wouldn’t know about the human’s arrival.

It looks like he’ll have to do some digging after this exchange party concludes. He might need to start gathering evidence now while the human is still here. Diavolo will need to get involved, there’s no doubt about that. He would do anything to ensure the health and safety of the exchange students, after all. 

~

When everyone converged for a tour around the castle, some had noted that you looked less sluggish than usual. You simply waved them off, making up an excuse about the mattress not being up to human standards. Hopefully, you didn’t offend the demon prince when you said that. 

Still, you can’t deny that you feel a little well-rested. You did remember trying a method where you close your eyes for 15 minutes, wake up for another 15, close your eyes again, rinse and repeat. You usually had an alarm for this technique, but you didn’t want to disturb Simeon or Asmodeus as much as you already did slipping in and out of bed. You didn’t think you were able to keep track, but you did somehow, give or take a few minutes. Now you can actually pay attention to that cute little demon acting as the tour guide, explaining the intricate history of all the subjects painted on these beautifully crafted portraits. You couldn’t help but smile seeing Diavolo puffing his chest in pride when the Little D started talking about his father, the current Demon King. 

(But when it was mentioned that he's been sleeping at the bottom of Devildom for millennia you couldn't help but feel jealous. The most powerful being of all the realms is casually sleeping the decades away while you don’t even get the privilege of an hour of uninterrupted rest.)

You looked at the other paintings decorating the hall. Some plaques are written in what you can only presume is some kind of archaic language that only demons would know. If you could understand at least a part of it, then maybe you can get a deeper understanding of these pictures. 

A gentle call of your name and a not-so-gentle clap on your back broke your weak concentration. You tore your eyes away to meet Diavolo’s gentle gaze. “I see that her beauty managed to draw you in?” 

You blinked, trying to process what he said. “I-I’m sorry, whose beauty? I was…too focused on figuring out what the plaque said.” You managed to blurt out, causing the prince to chuckle.

“Oh, that? It simply reads ‘The Queen of Devildom’. In other words, that’s my mother.” His gaze turned to the painting, but you stayed fixated on him. He continued by adding, “This painting and some vague memories are all I have of her. She passed away several centuries ago when I was still an infant. My father would always talk about how…” And he continued to drone on from there. It wasn’t his fault, and you were genuinely trying to cling on to every word he’s saying because it’s important to him and you wanted to leave a good impression. On the other hand, the bleariness in your eyes started to cloud your vision again as a result of your lack of sleep. So you avert your gaze back to the painting unintentionally so you can wipe it away, biting your tongue to restrain the yawn that comes with it. Part of you hopes that Diavolo thinks that you’re speechless and moved to tears.

That thought quickly vanished when you opened your eyes to the painting. 

There was a choking noise, and you almost didn’t realize it came from you. It felt like the world around you completely disappeared, and only you and Him were the only inhabitants. 

Devildom seemed to freeze over the moment you made direct eye contact with the painted eyes of your tormentor. His scarred face did nothing to hide that cocky smirk he loves to wear. He’s holding up his bloodied claw to you in a way that couldn’t be anything else but a taunting gesture, as if he knows what he’s doing to you. His other hand wrapped around the back of a bloodied woman. By the way, the painting is framed, you assumed she was supposed to be sitting. Unfortunately, you know that’s not the case here. Her head dipped back, obscuring her face from you. You assumed she was originally wearing either a white or a similar light-colored dress, but that didn’t matter as it was dyed by the blood seeping out of that four-lined wound in her chest that you knew all too well. Just the sight alone made you reach for your hip where an old wound dimly throbs at the clothed contact. 

You didn’t dare move your gaze. You needed to keep an eye on him. 

“Hey…!”

You knew it. This opportunity to fly off his radar and find a way to kill him for good while he’s not looking was too good to be true.

“...!”

How did he even get here? Did he follow you down when you got summoned? What will he-

“...!!”

Time seemed to resume the second someone grabbed onto your shoulders and turned you around. You wanted-no, needed to keep an eye on him. Sadly, you don’t have eyes on the back of your head. Instead, you were forced to look at Diavolo's worried eyes. You didn’t even let him get a word in before you began panicking. 

“What have you done?!” You yelled. You pointed to the painting behind you. “Can’t you see I’m trying to protect you!”

“Protect us from…who?”

“Him!” You pointed to the portrait.

Only the painted eyes of a woman stare back at you.

It was too late for you now. The moment you allow yourself even to think you’re away from his control, you end right back into his hands. 

Nowhere is safe, not even in hell.

A maniacal laugh fills your ears as everyone crowds around your panicked state.

[fallenrocket]

Skeleton Crew episode 5 spoilers...

Maybe this is just epic levels of coping on my part, but I'm hoping we can still turn things around with Jod. If this was episode 7, I'd say that's probably a wrap on any redemption for him, but since this betrayal happened in episode 5, we have time for things to change.

(Not that I think he'll morph into a 100% Good Guy, but I do think there's hope for him to still do something good within his flexible pirate morality.)

Betraying the kids is horrible, obviously, and there's no justification for his actions here. But given that we'd just seen him tell SM-33 to drown the other pirates in acid, I think the way Jod approaches the betrayal is notable. When he challenges Fern, he repeatedly urges her to yield, telling her that he doesn't want to hurt her. And he never does. He definitely scares all the kids, and he certainly threatens Fern, but in their "fight," he quickly disarms her and then threatens her until she yields. He doesn't hit her, he doesn't give her a superficial cut with the knife, he doesn't hold it close enough to her neck to draw blood.

I know, when it comes to fighting a literal child, this is the absolute bare minimum Jod could do to not put himself in DIAF territory. It's still an utter scumbag move. But he could've killed her, could've killed all of them so easily. Barring that, he could've ordered SM-33 to help him escape and simply left the kids for dead in the lair. There was no real benefit to having 33 take them prisoner instead.

Now that Jod has turned on the kids, I think it'll probably get worse before it gets better, but I do think he might come back around before the end. The hints we've gotten of his past and whatever led to him becoming who he is are tantalizing as hell, and I don't think they'd set all this up just to have him be irredeemably evil.

After episode 3, I'd crossed my fingers that, even if Jod wasn't a Jedi like Wim had thought, he was actually Force-sensitive and not just pulling a Haja Estree-style con. That theory bore out big time in this episode--not just with his use of the Force but with his warped thoughts on attachments, which certainly point to some sort of Jedi-related damage. If I was right about that, I really hope I can be right about this too.

[luminous-letters]

i have been fed by new jack content

"Shit..." He cussed under his breath, stopping at the opening of the main street night market. He mentally cursed at the universe's comically on-point timing. The night market

"Just had to be now..." He huffed, struggling to squeeze himself through the crowd of... couples out on a Christmas date. Sweet. Romantic. He could practically see the hearts in the winter air.

'Great', he thought, a tad embarrassed at himself for not being that great of a planner. Sue him, he had no time to map out an entire itinerary... He didn't know the dorm Christmas party would take longer than expected, plus the errands he had to run, then his time to get dressed, his time to go to the kiln, and to package his gift...

Alright, he was running out of excuses.

He deftly (very poorly) sifted through the crowd (crashed against one poor couple) before picking up speed once he was at the familiar route down Ramshackle dorm. His build had its benefits and downsides.

He is a runner, a literal track star.

Bag in hand, he sprinted until he reached your now-fixed porch. He'd never admit it, but he kind of missed how the old floorboards would creak under his weight. It would have saved him from ringing your doorbell.

"Uh, hey... I'm... I'm here!" He called out, heart sinking a bit at the fact that your lights were all turned off. Was he too late? It was indeed past midnight. Still, he wanted you to have this, it was the least he could do for missing out on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day...

Just because he said he'd give you a gift, definitely not because of the gnawing guilt of not being with you for an indefinite amount of time.

Movement.

His ears twitched and his tail swished instinctively. That familiar pattern of movement, your hand feeling the wall in search for the switch before flicking it. Immediately, warm light spilled from the door transom.

The door opened to reveal you, half-asleep and still in your pajamas. It was a stark contrast to Jack's dorm uniform, which was still damp with sweat.

He held up the bag which was patterned with red and green zigzags, and had small trees decorated all over.

"Hey. I got you something... Well, not 'got' really, I made you a little something. Sorry it took so long." If one would look closely, Jack had sad puppy eyes.

No pun intended.

You reached out for it, your fingers brushing against Jack's. It only amplified his already wagging tail.

Opening the gift, you found a mug.

"Remember how I said I'll be taking some pottery in my free time? It was Ace's idea. He dropped it after a week. Well, I made you this... uh... mug..." He trailed off, opting to scratch the back of his head in hopes of ridding some of the awkwardness in the air.

He tried looking away, but he couldn't help but steal glances at you as you inspected your late Christmas gift.

The mug was quaint, it had a hastily-painted Christmas tree with an artist's rendition (Jack's drawing) of you and Grim. As your fingers traced the ceramic, you could feel the indents and depressions of the imperfect craft. Its handle was too big for your hands, and the base was his best attempt at a cylinder. Still, it was...

"It's perfect." You gave him a reassuring smile. Now you were concerned if Jack might take off the ground with how fast his tail was wagging.

"R-really? I'll make you a better one, I promise!"

"It's fine, Jack."

It was special because he made it. Someone might give you one that's made by a seasoned artisan, or something bejeweled and pricey. But you liked this mug because it's from him. It's authentic and was made for you.

"Good thing you dropped by, I was worried that I might not be able to give you your gift," you chuckled, guiding Jack into the dorm.

Under the dorm's Christmas tree was one gift labeled 'Jack'.

Opening it, he found...

"Ear muffs... In the shape of my ears?" He examined the crocheted craft in his hands.

"C'mon, it's stylish." You encouraged him by putting it on him. "There. Fits like a glove," you mused.

"No way I'm gonna wear this outside...." He sighed, but his crinkled eyes, his warm smile, and his tail all said otherwise.

[brucestalia]

give me morally complex antiheroes and star-crossed lovers any day ∘₊✧

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦ what draws me to brutalia is the endless back-and-forth between them—it's painful, yet it’s the kind of pull that you can’t help but get lost in, canon be damned.

look at them! they're meant to be. they're so endgame. they're married, they're divorced, they're everything.

while i'm not opposed to batman x literally anyone else, the reason i love this ship in particular is because it isn't the usual "i can fix him" dynamic (unlike some portrayals of other love interests). instead, it's more like, "oh damn, did i make him worse? aha...."

similarly, it’s not "i can fix her" either. he doesn't need to fix her—they share the same core morals (unlike, cough cough, catwoman).

now, this isn't to say i dislike the other ladies bruce is often paired with. i just think they all have better options.

exhibit a: wonder woman a platonic relationship between bruce and diana is a fantastic representation of a healthy male-female friendship. diana and steve are an adorable, enduring couple, and in some distant-future timeline, i could even see her with clark. but diana and bruce? they're just a completely serious version of "comrade."

on that note, i would kill to see bruce and steve bond over being hopelessly in love with their respective immortal-warrior-princesses. also, in the most idealistic of circumstances, diana and talia would probably get along quite well.

exhibit b: catwoman i cannot put into words how much i adore catwoman. but the one thing i can’t fully get behind is batcat (okay, i don't hate it, i'm just being dramatic haha). batcat is essentially a decades-long booty call—a situationship, if you will. my girl selina deserves better! with bruce, she can never truly embrace being fully on the other side of the law.

a new challenger enters the arena! wait, is that...?

yes, it’s batwoman, aka kate kane. now, hear me out.

catwoman: hunted was where i first really noticed this pairing. it could work! it’s been well-established that batwoman is its own mantle, not just a female counterpart to batman. kate also doesn’t struggle with the same moral dilemmas her cousin does.

okay, i don’t really know how this evolved into a kate x selina post, but hey, every good relationship needs a third wheel that sometimes comes with a fourth wheel, right?

dc comics bombshells is another great source for this! i'll just leave a few moments down here :)

what i'm getting at is that i'd love to see a universe where talia isn’t constantly being pitted against every woman in bruce’s life. zatanna is a story for another day, but the others—silver st. cloud, vicki vale, nocturna, or whatever lady tickles the writer’s fancy—always felt circumstantial to me. ✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦✦•┈๑⋅⋅๑┈•✦