#chay just assumes

[the-cookie-of-doom]

I'm so tired I'm about two brainwaves away from being declared medically braindead. What if I took this time to write a vampire AU idea I had last night?

Chay sells himself to be vampire!Kim's bloodwhore, getting jealous over Kim's other (imaginary, nonexistent) victims. Kim is just here trying to live his life, he did not sign up for this. But he's gotta admit, Chay is really cute when he gets all worked up and feisty over the (again! nonexistent!) other people Kim must be feeding on.

[vani-ash]

KP X DFF AU

(Takes place around events of ep 7 DFF and end of Kinnporsche)

(inspired by I re-watched ep6 of DFF and somehow missed that they sing TSICY on their way to Pors house on my first watch)

Somehow Non and Chay run into each other and they look identical. Chay, wanting to have some time away from the mafia he's become apart of, comes up with the idea after hearing Nons story to switch places. Non is reluctant at first but when Chay promises he can help solve Nons problems he agrees (Non doesn't fully trust Chay and leaves out some details like Mr Keng and Phee).

Chay has a Theerapanyakul mafia ring that he uses when the mafia guys come after him to get them to leave him alone, he also has access to mafia money that he tries to use to help Nons family as much as he can without causing suspicion. Chay is disgusted by how Nons 'friends’ treat him but Non had said he wanted to finish his movie so Chay plays along with them for now.

And Then whatever happens causing Non to disappear happens to Chay instead.

Non was told by Chay that if he went to the compound he’d be able to just walk in, he’s nervous but he does and when he’s engulfed in a hug by a stranger he feels a little better. He recognizes the man from a photo Chay had shown him, Porsche, who was worried because Chay disappeared and lost his bodyguards for a few hours.

Chay had told Non that he wasn’t speaking to his brother or anyone else really so if he did nothing but stay in Chays room the whole time he’d be fine and no one would question or really bother him.

Then Non gets a knock on his door, it’s Kim, he was trying to apologize to Chay about his song being stolen and that it wasn't him that released it and he didn’t mean for it to happen.

(Someone on Kims team finds a demo Kim made of Chays song (tsicy) when he was helping Chay record it, and releases it under Wiks name without Kim’s consent. Because Kim hasn’t released any new music since his break up with Chay and his company wants new music from him.)

Non feels bad about how distraught Kim sounds, and lets him in. Kim hadn’t expected for Chay to actually let him in, it’s been a month since Kim had been this close to Chay and so the first thing he does on impulse is hugs him. Non, currently still processing the worst week of his life, doesn’t push Kim away causing Kim to kiss him.

Anyway Kim somehow finds out that it wasn’t Chay who forgave him and that Non isn't Chay and demands Non tell him where Chay actually is and when they show back up everyone is confused (because they killed him like 3 weeks ago or something) and is like WTF?! But when Non just acts like nothing happened they don’t bring it up, and so now Non and Kim have to figure out what happened to Chay.

[wiccawrites]

Dragon!Porsche, the deity who has been guarding a perilous mountain range for almost a thousand years now. He's bound to these mountains – the result of a curse he placed on himself centuries ago, when his own foolishness led to the death of his own brother.

Porsche keeps to himself; is careful that the occasional caravan of traders or group of bandits doesn't know he's there. He does send his pet tigers after the bandits sometimes, if he sees they're the especially bloodthirsty kind who won't spare innocent lives but he makes sure his presence is undetected.

Solitude is his penance.

He's spending another evening watching the stars when he hears ruckus coming from a nearby pass. There is screaming, but not the terrified kind that Porsche has gotten used to. Instead, it sounds like an argument.

"I can't let you do this!"

"How did you even follow me? I took the fastest stallion here!"

"Would you please stop changing the topic? Your Highness. You seriously cannot be trusting some half-crazed old man's advice on how to save the kingdom."

Kingdom?

Porsche knows there's a human settlement on the other side of these mountains. Or at least, it had been a settlement centuries ago. He and Porchay used to slip into their human forms and visit there, under the guise of travelers.

Was that settlement the same kingdom these two humans were referring to? It could be. The number of traders passing by these mountains had grown significantly over the centuries.

Out of curiosity, Porsche follows the sound of their voices.

"If it can save the kingdom, I'll take advice regardless of who it comes from."

"What if it doesn't work? You'll bleed out and die!"

"I've instructed Arm to distribute rations to our people. Ships and caravans are ready. Pete will lead our men. Kim has already planned an escape route that will guarantee the survival of most of our people."

Porsche is close enough that he can see two figures -- a man and what sounds like a boy barely breaking into adulthood. The man has his back turned to Porsche but the fine quality of his clothes are certainly fit for a royal. His broad frame hides the face of the person he's talking to from Porsche's line of sight.

Porsche is close enough that he can hear the man's voice grow soft.

"It will be difficult, but I trust my brother to lead our people. He'll take care of you, so please look after him for me too."

"No. I won't do it. No. Please, Your Highness. Please don't do this. Please. You can escape with us."

"The moon is almost at it's peak. You should go."

That it is.

The moon is full tonight and she lends her light to the darkness. It's thanks to her that Porsche sees the blade glisten in the man's hands, hidden behind his back.

The boy tries to plead some more, but he runs out of time.

As soon as the moon rises to its highest point in the sky, the man pushes the boy away. He turns around, slices his palm with the dagger and lets his blood drip into the earth before turning the knife towards himself.

The metallic scent blood fills the air and Porsche looks on in regret as he hears familiar words uttered into the night before the man finishes what he'd set out to do.

The thing about being nigh immortal is being able to witness the stories about you turn into tales, which then turn into lore, that somehow evolves into a legend. To this man's credit, he does have his facts right.

Had Porsche been a weaker deity, a selfless blood sacrifice made at the height of the full moon would have bound him.

But Porsche is much more powerful than that.

He watches as the man falls to the ground, a pool of his own blood already beginning to form around him.

"P'Kinn!"

The man's companion rushes to his side and Porsche freezes in place as he sees tears flow down the boy's face.

No. It can't be.

Porsche is stepping closer to get a good look of the boy's face before he can even think about throwing a glamor on himself. He steps on a branch that snaps loud enough for the boy to look up, red-rimmed doe eyes the exact same as they had been nine hundred years ago.

"Please," the boy's voice wavers as he begs, completely oblivious to the fact that Porsche had never been unable to deny him anything since they were born. "Please save him."

Without even thinking about the consequences – the bond he'd be forming with a virtual stranger, the life force that he'd be sharing with someone who he wasn't even sure was worthy saving, the target he'd be placing on all their backs if the wrong people found out – Porsche takes the dagger and gives in to his brother's request.

(Later, when the three of them are safely in Porsche's home, the man he'd saved wakes up. His name is Kinn, and he is the king of the relatively small but prosperous kingdom nearby. There is an invasion brewing and all plans of negotiation have failed.

"They will need to pass through these mountains if they want to get to us. Please, protect us."

"Done."

"You won't ask for anything in return?"

Porsche holds up his hand, shows Kinn the fresh scar on his palm.

"You've already paid the price. You're a king, aren't you? The ritual you performed binds you to me. As I am bound to these mountains, so shall you be."

"You're saying I'm your slave and I can't leave this place," Kinn says grimly. Porsche nods, lets him assume the worst; hopes this interpretation of the bond will keep Kinn as far away from him as possible . "For how long?"

"This is not a bond that can easily break."

"Will you keep protecting the kingdom?"

Porsche sneaks a glance at Kinn's attendant. The boy called Chay, who was currently napping beside one of Porsche's tigers.

"Sure, why not?"

"Then so be it.")

[psychangels]

potentially a hot take, but i think that chai's player isn't limited to songs that he downloaded onto it before it became part of him.

a lot of ppl cite chai saying "Does this mean I can't download anymore songs onto it?" during some optional dialogue as meaning that it is limited. but chai doesn't rlly know how it functions now that it's part of him. nobody does. i read that line as him either just making an assumption, or being sad abt the fact that he can't rlly listen to whatever specific song that he wants at any given moment anymore

the reason i think it's limitless in what songs can play is mostly bc a Lot of the songs that play throughout the game r very specific to whatever situation/environment he's in.

idk abt u, but i don't buy that chai would just happen to have a song titled 'Welcome to Qa' downloaded on his ipod that perfectly fits the vibes of the place he's in.

does this mean that it makes songs??? sure, that's entirely possible. if it has unlimited access to music, what's stopping it from making its own? in fact, honestly, that makes more sense than him having a song called 'Heatwave (VARRT Mix)' already on his ipod when he didn't even know varrt existed before

to note: i do think some of the songs were ones he downloaded onto it before everything, but a lot of them it just. doesn't rlly make sense to me for him to have those bc of how specific they r

[chayscribbles]

that's it i'm gonna f*nish this draft today if it kills me

[soyforramen]

Love that we've come full circle so that actual psychological coping tools I learned in CBT are now being used by the vibrations and energy crowds.

*he's a little confused but he's got the spirit.jpg*

[farfromstrange]

I don't want drama so much😭😭😭I just want comfort for our kitty, give him love pls...

Listen.

LISTEN.

I know I said “this will be a fluffy miniseries to give Mikey some comfort” and I will.

It’s just a rocky road.

Me: This will be hurt/comfort MIKEY NEEDS TO BE HAPPY!!!

My brain: But what about–

Me: HAPPY 👏🏻 H A P P Y

My brain: Angst :)

Me: NO!

My brain: Angsssstttt 🐍

Me: Okay, okay, maybe a little–

Everyone else:

Me:

Everyone else:

Me:

But–

Don’t worry, darling 😉

There will be a little bit of angst, but there will also be a happy ending. A very happy and very pleasant ending. And he will get the comfort he deserves 🫶🏻 I promise. Pinky promise.

I know I abused that angst button a little, but there won’t be drama of the kind you might be expecting now. I’m reserving that for when I decide to continue the series…

HE WILL BE HAPPY OKAY HE WILL BE HE IS GOING TO BE WE ARE GOING TO LOVE HIM VERY MUCH AND HE IS GOING TO BE HAPPY

I’m sorry for any heart attacks I might have caused or will be caused in the future.

[littleragondin]

Ooookay so I need to know if there is a Tian Song protection squad, and if so how can I join and do we get a cool badge. He's such a sweetheart?? No one should be allowed to make him cry????

[shanastoryteller]

Merry bday! A continuation of Enola Holmes marrying the viscount of Basilweather would be really cool 😀

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8

She wrinkles her nose when Tewksbury passes over her cup of tea with two sugars, unstirred, and she knows.

She puts down the cup too quickly, blood pounding in her ears, and Tewksbury frowns, reaching for her hand. "Enola?"

"Got to go," she says, pushing herself to standing, almost just leaves him sitting there, hand outstretched, but he's her husband and she loves him, so she darts over to smack a kiss on his lips before she's running for the door.

"Enola!" he calls out again, but now he sounds less worried and more exasperated, which is better, which is good. There's nothing for him to worry about.

She wants her mother, who's banned from London and is causing political unrest in Southern France currently, or Edith, who's doing something clever and illegal in Scotland. She'd take Victoria, but Mycroft will be there, and he's the last person she wants to see right now. Sherlock, while beloved, is useless, but his boy is a doctor.

She drops in at 221B Baker Street, picking the lock like always, and is relieved that Sherlock is still asleep and decides not to have any opinions on the various bones scattered about the kitchen table. She assumes there's a reasonable explanation for them.

"Oh, Enola!" John grins and shoves some femurs to the side to make space at the table. "Here, join me, would you like some oatmeal? Are you looking for your brother? I can wake him-"

"I'm pregnant," she blurts out, then bites her bottom lip.

John blinks once, then twice, then says with a gentleness that had made her like him in the first place - because Sherlock wanted to be gentle, but was quite bad at it, so someone had to teach him - "This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

Wanted seems like not the correct word, although of course it is, because she and Tewksbury had been, not trying, but not-not trying, which probably amounted to the same thing, considering how often they - well.

"I can fix it," he says, voice low and serious, "if it's something that needs to be fixed."

Enola lets out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "No. No, it doesn't need to be fixed."

She loves that he offered. She loves John, more her brother than Mycroft will ever be, sometimes even more her brother than Sherlock is. If nothing else, her brothers had picked their partners well. Victoria and John are a delight.

John is the functional one between them, explosions and skeletons notwithstanding. John is the one that coaxed her brother into a proper relationship and John is the one that knew they were like parents to all the Irregulars and John isn't normal but he grew up normal.

"Are you worried something's wrong?" he asks. "I can look you over."

"No," she says, although, "I mean, yes, that'd be nice because Tewksbury will go spare, but no, I'm not worried anything's wrong."

He leans back in his chair, looking her over, and after almost ten years of dealing with her and Sherlock and even occasionally Mycroft he can read them almost as well as they can read everyone else.

"It's alright to be scared," he says finally. "Lots of women are when they find out, even when it's wanted, even when the baby's healthy."

"I'm not scared," she says, but for the first time her words feel like a lie. "I shouldn't be scared. What do I have to be scared of?"

She wishes her mother was here.

Will her children miss her like this too?

Sometimes she misses her mother even when she's right in front of her, and if nothing else, she's her mother's daughter.

John gets to his feet, stand in front of her, and opens his arms. She looks away even as she steps forward, like if she doesn't look at him when she does it then it doesn't count as weakness.

His arms close around her. He smells like chai and antiseptic and it's only years of association that make the combination comforting. "I can't wait to be an uncle."

He'll be an uncle. Sherlock will be an uncle. Even Mycroft, and Victoria will be delighted to be an aunt, and to raise her children with Enola's. Of course there's her mother-in-law, and Tewksbury's uncle, who have been angling for her to have a child from the day they married.

There's Tewksbury, who loves her, who isn't going to die on her or leave her if either of them have anything to say about it, who isn't going to leave her to raise their children the way her mother raised her.

Alone.

She's been saying she wasn't going to do this alone from the beginning, but standing here in Sherlock's kitchen, with John holding her steady, she really believes it.

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

☆｡.:*･ﾟ Sweet Nothings ｡.:*･ﾟ☆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x baker!reader

warning: fluff, multiple mentions of cake, mentions of Bucky with children

a/n: Ahhh I had this idea before going to bed and literally stayed up two hours working on it. I finished it this morning, and I've gotta stay I'm proud of my commitment because I usually take at least a month to finish a fanfiction. Hopefully, there's more where this came from. P.S. I'm not a baker, so I'm sorry if I fudged any details. Feedback is always appreciated but please be kind. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated but no reposting without credit <3

word count: 1.6k

summary: Reader is a baker and Bucky gets a cake from her to take to Sam's picnic party on the docks (scene from tfatws).

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

The bell jingled as Bucky entered Sweet Nothings, the bakery you had started from the ground up. He was instantly enveloped by the sweet scent of baked goods from the array of desserts neatly displayed in the glass case by the counter. Underneath the sugar, he smelled the new chai latte you had just added to the menu. It had been an instant hit, totally trumping the one at Starbucks that everyone raved about. Chai had been a nostalgic drink for you and a completely new one for Bucky. He now had an affinity for it, however, and asked for it every time he entered the shop after you made him the first honorary taste tester of the drink. Now, the shop was bustling since it was happy hour.

Soft music played in the background. Bucky recognized the voice of Taylor Swift, one of your favorite artists. She was one of Bucky's favorites now too. You had impeccable taste, and any song you loved became his favorite. The album that was currently playing was Midnights, the one you had told Bucky he was most like. He loved that about you, how you would associate things like albums and songs with him. It made his heart swell, knowing you thought about him in relation to music, which had a special place in your heart.

You were nowhere in sight, so he assumed you were in the back checking on your bread dough. Bucky approached the barrier that led to the backroom for employees and pushed the door open, hoping to surprise you while you were working. Once he entered, he found you bent over your proving drawer, checking on a fluffy batch of bread dough. He tiptoed up to you and grabbed your waist, lifting you off your feet and causing you to let out a yelp of surprise. Bucky spun you around, chuckling at your reaction (what did he expect when he literally attacked you with a bear hug from behind?).

Finally, he set you down on your feet and spun you around to face him. His eyes were crinkled with laugh lines as he took in your disheveled form. Your hair was in a low messy bun with a few strands astray in the front. You donned a cream-colored beret and a blue long-sleeve over which you had on your cheeky apron that read "Kiss the Cook." It was, of course, gifted to you by none other than your doting boyfriend. A light dusting of flour over your entire being gave you an angelic glow. In Bucky's eyes, you looked more heavenly than all of the desserts in your shop combined.

You blew your hair out of your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest before attempting to glare at Bucky. You didn't last long, however, as his sheepish grin caused you to look down, so he wouldn’t catch you smiling.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” you admonished him half-heartedly. “Bakers can be dangerous when startled, you know.”

“Sure, doll,” Bucky still had on that cheeky grin. “I don’t know about dangerous, though. Former assassin here, remember?” He pointed at himself with his index fingers as if you didn't already know. "I think I can handle a blow from a rolling pin." He picked up the nearest tool his hand landed on, which, unfortunately for him, was a basting brush, making his joke fall flat. He sheepishly put the brush away as you tried not to laugh.

You gave him a warning look before turning your back to him and smiling wide. You may pretend to be annoyed by his antics, but they truly brought joy to your heart and brightened up your bland days. You loved your job, but you loved your man most of all.

“I’ve got the cake ready for Sam’s. Just gotta put the finishing touches on it. Did you bring the Oreos, baby boy?”

You turned around to find his face in yours. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve found it incredibly infuriating. But with Bucky, it left you blushing to your core.

He wrapped his arms around you and held up the blue plastic box. “Right here, sweetheart.”

It was a generic nickname that every single boyfriend in the history of the world had called his girlfriend at some point. But somehow, it was almost erotic coming from his plush pink lips with that deep timbre. You sometimes wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on you.

“Thank you,” was all you trusted yourself to say as you took the box of cookies from him and started peeling off the plastic cover. You moved away from him and carefully placed six cookies on the cake, one on each of the iced rosettes on the border.

“Alright, Buck, I think it’s ready for the party. Lemme just get a box for it, and we’ll be on our way.”

Bucky smiled as he watched you tenderly place the plastic casing on the cake as if it was your baby. In a way, it was, along with all of your other creations.

“Alrighty then, doll,” Bucky grabbed the cake in his gloved flesh hand, then put his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Thank you so much for making this, baby cakes.”

You turned pink hearing him use your favorite nickname of all time. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you mumbled bashfully, suddenly shy again in the crook of his arm.

“It’s a Sweet Nothing, which means it’s the opposite of nothing. Doll, this cake is quite literally everything to me.”

“Buckyyy,” you playfully swatted him away. Sure, you were proud of your work, but you still got flustered when people complimented you, especially your boyfriend, who took every chance to make you feel like you were the biggest star in his world.

You eased yourself out of his embrace momentarily to hunt down your assistant. “Lemme just tell Nico to take over the closing shift tonight.”

Bucky nodded and waited patiently by the door for you to rejoin him. You returned and looped your arm around his waist to steer him out of your shop.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky drove the both of you from the bakery to the docks in his pickup. You held the cake securely in your lap with your right hand and entwined your left with Bucky's. When you arrived, you let go of his hand and moved to open the door, but Bucky reached over you to close it again. Then he climbed out of the truck and rushed to open your door.

"M'lady," you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't help smiling as he took the cake from you so you could climb out of the car. He shut your door behind you, then took off with the cake balanced precariously in his flesh hand.

"Bucky! Be careful!" Your cries were drowned out by Sam's nephews, who were happily trailing Bucky at the sight of the cake. They tried play-fighting with him, pretending to punch him in the face, to which Bucky pretended to stagger backward from the force of impact.

You sighed and let the corners of your mouth lift as you watched your lover boy, totally enamored by his way with children.

Bucky ran to the nearest picnic table and finally placed the cake down safely. You let out a breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding in and walked over to him.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky returned to entertaining the kids a little while after everyone had eaten. He stood atop a picnic table, talking to you and Sarah with his metal arm extended out. Sam's nephew and his friend hung off of Bucky's arm. You were trying your hardest to concentrate on what he told you about his days in the Navy, but you couldn't help giggling softly at the sight of him effortlessly holding up two children using only one of his arms.

When you could finally steal a moment alone with him, you handed him a beer and tugged his arm to lead him to the pier's edge. You plopped down and let your feet dangle, the bottoms of your boots grazing the water's surface. After a moment, Bucky crouched down to join you. He scooted closer so his thigh was pressed up against yours. He put his arm around you, and you sighed softly, leaning into his shoulder and staring at the setting sun. Nose pressed against Bucky's shoulder, you inhaled, reveling in the warm scent of freshly-cut pine and the sweet undertones of amber and musky vanilla.

You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulder, suddenly needing to be closer to him than you already were. He seemed to understand and gently twisted to the side, snaking one arm around your lower back and using the other to bring your legs into his lap. You moved in to kiss him tenderly. Your hands were in his hair, his hands were on your hips, and everything felt perfect at that moment. You could still taste the Oreo cake on his breath, and you broke away from the kiss slowly, smiling all the while. Bucky returned your smile warmly as you turned to look at the sunset.

Bucky watched it paint your face the most gorgeous shade of pink and thanked his lucky stars at that moment. Somehow, life had brought you to him. He had never thought of himself as fortunate, but he was ecstatic now that you were in his arms, and he damn sure was never going to let go of this beautiful thing he had with you. He pressed his lips to your forehead and tightened his hold on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Fighting Fire with Fire

author note: aaaaa this is so late! Sorry, sorry – graduation happened and then I was very busy with misc things x-x but this instalment is a little longer to make up for it! Hope you enjoy, Scarabia is up next!

characters: Azul Ashengrotto x GN!Reader

You had only given yourself two objectives when you had realised that you had been transported to the world of Twisted Wonderland.

One: figure out a way to get back to your own world, preferably in one piece.

Two: keep a low profile and avoid the game’s named characters as much as possible.

Unfortunately, none of those objectives had been going well.

Despite your best attempts, you had already run into the game’s first two housewardens. Chapter one of the game had pretty much run on schedule, culminating in Riddle’s eventual overblot. You ran into Leona by fluke, and whilst the encounter was not as terrible as you thought it would be, you still found it less than ideal for your plan to keep a low profile, especially now that Leona would give you the odd nod here and there if you passed each other in the hallway. That caused you to get a few more stares than usual. There was also another curious issue that had caught your attention.

Even with you laying low and keeping yourself out of the main story as much as possible, Leona’s overblot still happened. You had noticed that Crowley had not asked/threatened you into investigating the odd accidents that had been going on around campus in the run up to the spelldrive tournament, which you assumed was because he was still avoiding you so you didn’t hound him about getting home. So even though it wasn’t you who helped uncover the truth about the incidents, the truth still came out and you, through fates untimely intervention, ended up on the Savanaclaw spelldrive field to witness his overblot.

Regarding your attempts to figure out a way home, research had been slow. Whilst Riddle was a great help, he could also be a hindrance. With midterms on the horizon, Riddle had been visiting not to assist you with your research, but to make sure you had been studying properly for the upcoming exams. Because he considered you an honorary member of Heartslabyul, Riddle deemed it his role to make sure you succeeded in your academic endeavours, even going through the effort of making you a study schedule and notes in order for you to maximise your study time efficiently. Although you appreciated the gesture, getting more sidetracked was not what you needed right now. But you figured there were worst things that could happen.

But as usual, fate decided to show you that there were definitely worse things.

You had just gotten to the library, tote bag full of study materials that Riddle had generously lent to you swinging behind you as you weaved through the bookshelves and desks, aiming for your usual table at the back. You figured you could continue your own research and if Riddle showed up, you could just swap the books over and he would be none the wiser.

Of course, you had no idea that a whole bigger problem than Riddle Rosehearts was awaiting you. Because when you rounded the corner that enclosed your library table, the devil himself was waiting for you.

Or in this case, Azul Ashengrotto.

“Ah! There you are prefect!” Azul exclaimed, slamming one of your research books shut which he had clearly been nosing through, “I have been waiting for you. I trust your classes went well today?” He smiled at you, that usual picture perfect, business smile affixed to his face. All you could do was stare blankly at him, willing every muscle in your face not to react so that you didn’t give him an opening.

Why were you running into Azul?! Chapter three started after midterms! You still had some time before then, brain already working overtime in an attempt to figure out what was the best way to lay low against a whole dorm that excelled in subterfuge and deceit. You were shaken from your thoughts by the sounds of chair legs scrapping against the floor, as Azul got to his feet.

“Say, prefect… Midterms are coming up and it seems to me that you have all the wrong content here,” Azul started as he gestured to the table with all your research materials gathered, “why don’t we take a walk and we can discuss exactly what I can do to help you…”

Oh no. No, no, no.

Without a word, you span on your heel and started to march out of the library, not looking back or faltering in your step. It seemed like you’d actually be studying for your midterms back at Ramshackle today. Riddle would be thrilled.

“My, prefect where are you going?” Azul called after you, and you didn’t have to imagine the predatory smile on his face now that your back was turned, “I only want to talk!”

The library door slammed behind you and you hightailed it back to Ramshackle dorm.

After classes ended the next day, you took the risky decision to return to the library. But this time, you had a plan. Having called in a small favour from the library ghosts that you have become friendly with, you began your walk over to your usual table. Unfortunately, but as expected, Azul was waiting for you, his perfect business smile fixed on his face.

“Prefect, so good to see you.” Azul said, voice smooth as he leaned against one of the chairs. You had to wonder how long he had been standing there, posed like that, waiting for you to turn the corner. You ignored him as you slipped your tote bag of your shoulder and took your usual seat, pretending like he was not there. There was a beat of silence as you found your bookmark and continued reading your book in the place you had left off on, but of course the silent treatment wouldn’t work on someone as adaptable as Azul.

“Ahem, prefect, if you would…”

“Three.” You said loudly, not looking up as you turned over the page of your book. In your peripheral vision, you watched as Azul freeze.

“… Prefect?” Azul enquired, smile frozen on his face.

“Two.” You continued, eyes glued to the book in front of you. The other books rattled on the table, one even flipping open, the pages flapping dramatically before slamming back shut. Azul lifted a hand to adjust his glasses in his usual move to mask the surprise and unease that threatened to destroy his perfect smile. “Why are you—”

“One.” Finally, you looked up, looking directly into his eyes. You were satisfied to see he looked appropriately unnerved, but the best was still to come.

“BOO!!!”

Azul jumped so hard that his glasses went askew, and you couldn’t help the amused smirk that spread across your face as he flapped to regain his composure. The library ghost that had popped out and spooked Azul cackled mischievously and flew around the table a few times before disappearing, giving you the chance to mask your face back into an indifferent expression when Azul turned his attention back to you, still looking a bit shocked. You only offered a small shrug in consolation.

“Those library ghosts can sure be cheeky sometimes.” You said nonchalantly, flitting your eyes back down to your book without another word. Silence fell again, and you swore you heard a small, disgruntled huff before Azul took his leave.

Today, victory was yours.

You had one full day of peace from Azul before he was back again like nothing had happened. You shouldn’t have been surprised, Azul had a tenacity that sometimes made you wonder why the Dark Mirror had not placed him in Pomefiore. And for whatever reason, he had decided that you were very interesting.

He began popping up everywhere. You kept seeing him in the corridors, flashing you a smile that could be fool anyone as being kind. He’d somehow appear behind you in the lunch queue, even if he wasn’t there a minute before. You even decided to avoid the library for a few days, punishing yourself to study for midterms in the creaky Ramshackle dorm, and even then you saw him on your walk back, conveniently placed near the hall of mirrors or the botanical gardens, giving you a friendly wave when you passed. Well, for what passed as friendly with Azul. It was becoming increasingly clear to you, Azul was not going away.

You wracked your brain as to why Azul had taken such an interest in you. You know that when the main character made a deal with him in book three, he had his sights set on Ramshackle dorm so that he could open a branch café of the Mostro Lounge, and it was obvious that this was his agenda still now. But he had never come after the main character this… fiercely, so why was he pursuing you with such aggression?!

You chalked it up to another one of fate’s cruel pranks.

Determined, you continued to ignore his constant presence. With all the studying for midterms that you had been doing, you were convinced that you might actually get a decent grade this time round. Riddle expressed his pleasure at your diligent studying, having been miffed that he had not seen you at your usual spot in the library but delighted to know that you had finally knuckled down on your preparation for midterms.

But you couldn’t continue studying at Ramshackle forever. With Ramshackle came Grim, and with Grim came Ace and Deuce. And when you threw in the Ramshackle ghosts, you had an environment that definitely wasn’t suitable for studying. So inevitably, you ended up back at the library. Once again, you had one day of peace before Azul’s channels of information got back to him that you were back at the library because the very next day, Azul was waiting for you.

“Ah, prefect!” Azul said cheerfully, going so far as to pull out your chair for you, “I’m glad to run into you again. I must have missed you the last few times I have come to the library, I haven’t seen you here!” Azul’s business smile was out in full force today, and your lips pursed as you took your seat, ignoring Azul as he tried to help your push your chair in, not that it phased him at all. Azul was in top form today.

“Now, I’ve have something that I’d like to discuss with you…” Azul began as he took a seat opposite you, folding his hands in front of him neatly. You ignored him as you reached into your tote bag and opened one of your study books, deciding to brush up on some alchemy terms.

“It has been brought to my attention that…” Azul cleared his throat delicately, and leans forward slightly, lowering his voice, “now, I know that your situation is a little… delicate, but please be assured, I can help.” You continued to ignore him, trying your best to memorise the endless amounts of alchemy components that you had apparently learned this semester. A hand gently placed itself on top of your textbook, and you looked up to see Azul with his perfected faux expression of mixed pity and sympathy, which you were sure had won him over many clients in the past. For you, it just made your stomach turn.

“I know you’re failing. Multiple subjects, in fact.” Azul said quietly, and your eyes narrowed at him. “And who told you that?” You asked bluntly, and Azul pulled his hand back, holding up in the air in a gesture seeking peace, “now, now… You know I have to abide by client confidentiality… But you know how friends talk…” Azul purred, a predatory glint in his eyes as he smiled at you.

Great, so somebody had talked. You wondered who it could be, Ace? Deuce? Grim? Not that it mattered. Now Azul was determined to get his claws sunk into you, and you needed to deter him. Fast.

“While I appreciate your concern, I’m doing just fine. You could say that I’ve got friends in high places where are looking out for me. One even gave me a study schedule. You may know him, he’s at the top of the second-year rankings, after all.” You retorted with a sickly-sweet smile, feeling glad to have gotten that dig in, knowing Riddle and Azul’s competitive history. Azul’s smile never faltered, though his eyes did harden slightly.

“Ah, but you have so many subjects to learn in such a short amount of time. Midterms are next week.” Azul pointed out, a hand moving to rest on his chest with a flourish, “with a copy of my notes for each subject, you are guaranteed to improve your grades, enough that the professors will not give you a hard time over it. I know I could never understand, but it must be so difficult being the school’s only magicless student. You poor, unfortunate soul. I would rest so much easier at night knowing that you weren’t struggling unnecessarily.”

Your eye twitched at that, the urge to throw one of the heavy, leather-bound tomes at your side directly at Azul’s head growing thick and fast. “I said I wasn’t interested.” You responded firmly through gritted teeth. You had hoped the sly mention of Riddle would get Azul off your back, but clearly you were being naïve. Your eyes fell back down to your textbook as silence fell between you again, hoping through some fluke that ignoring Azul would make him leave you alone, but of course it wouldn’t.

“Well, if you don’t want to make a deal based on a grades perspective…” Azul mused allowed, his smile turning a tad more sinister, “how about this? Think of all the time you’ll have free to spend working on your interesting little side project if you don’t have to worry about your grades?” Azul’s fingers stroked along the spine of one of your many research books and you froze.

Now, you knew that one of your main goals was to keep a low profile in Twisted Wonderland until you figured out a way home. And if you deluded yourself hard enough, you could believe that to some extent, you had. But whilst you could tolerate Azul’s stalking, his faux friendly behaviour in the corridors and in the lunch line, and his many attempts to solicit you in the library and rope you into a predatory deal that you had no hopes of ever completing, there was one thing that you would never let slide.

And that was someone attempting to foil your plans to get back home.

Your eyes hardened as you gazed over at Azul. You needed to get rid of him, to deter him so strongly that he’d be hesitant to ever approach you again so lightly. And you knew just the way to do it.

You didn’t want to do it to him, but in your defence, he had started it. And in the types of games that he liked to play, you had to fight fire with fire.

Your pursed lips melted into a smile as you leaned forward. “Why don’t you make a deal with me instead, Azul?” You offered, crooking your finger in a motion to call him closer to you. Whilst he seemed hesitant, he was clearly intrigued by your suggestion and leaned closed to you as you looked him dead in the eye, speaking in a hush tone.

“You’re going to leave me alone. Because if you don’t, I’m going to tell every single person I walk past that they should take some time to visit the Atlantica Memorial Museum in the Coral Sea. I’ll tell them ‘hey! I know there is a really cool statue that catches your eye as soon as you enter, but you should really take a moment to check out the photographs right by the door. There are some very cute pictures there, especially one with the prince of the Coral Sea!’ You never know what you might find, right Azul?” You watched the colour drain from Azul’s face with every word you spoke, barely able to mask his horror at what you were telling him.

“H-how… Who…” He was flustered now, recoiling away from you like you had slapped him before leaning back closer to hiss at you, “how do you know about that?!” Azul was incredulous, so shocked at the dirt you had on him that he couldn’t even begin to deny it. He had to— no, he needed to know how you knew, like his very life depended on it.

“You’d be surprised what I know about you, Azul.” You responded cooly, leaning back in your chair and levelling him with a severe stare. “Things you’ve worked so hard to keep secret. I’m happy to keep them secret for you too, but you see, the thing is…” Your eyes narrowed at him now, and if he could have gotten paler, he would have, “when I get irritated, say by being constantly bothered by someone who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer…” You started to raise your voice with every word, “I get louder, and louder and…”

“Okay, okay!” Azul recoiled from you with an audible thump against his chair. He looked frazzled; pale faced with sweat beading on his forehead, “l-let’s not be rash, prefect. I see now that…” Azul cleared his throat, desperate to claw back some of his composure as he quickly stood from his chair, not even bothering to tuck it back in, “I see now that I’ve disturbed you during an incredibly important time. I apologise. I’ll take my leave, and I hope you can use your… Discretion not to act impulsively on this… Sensitive matter?”

You flashed Azul a serene smile that was not at all genuine, and he knew it. “I’ll try my best. There’s only so much I’m capable of. You know, being a magicless student and all.” You uttered with sweetness, and you thought you heard a low whine from Azul before he quickly made his escape, hurrying out the library with his dignity in tatters.

You smiled to yourself as you slowly pushed your study textbook aside. You knew it was a very risky move to threaten Azul like that, and there was a good chance that you might find yourself tied up and thrown in the sea by the end of the semester for so boldly confronting him. This wasn’t the last you would see of him, Azul too calculating to let you, a loose end that he never dreamed of encountering, go free. But for now, you could relish in the small, peaceful reprieve you had given yourself as you pulled one of your research books in front of you, finally continuing where you had left off.

[kaylopolis]

Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Seventeen

Alastor x F!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 

Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut

Masterlist Link: Masterlist

(Let me know if you want to be added to the Tag List!)

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Author note: Dear Hoteliers,

Helluva Boss events of this chapter take place during S2E6 “Oops.” 

Last transition chapter before the finale!

<3 Stay smutty

Chapter Seventeen - The Countdown

Content Warning: Minors DNI!!!!!! Mentions of abuse.

3 Days till Extermination

“Coconut mocha for Sir Pentious, soy latte for Angel, espresso for Husk, decaf for Niffty, 2% cappuccino for Vaggie, iced coffee for Charlie, and black chai for Alastor,” you spun the tray, ensuring you had everyone’s order. 

Well, technically, not “order.” The crew didn’t know you were going to this extent. You woke in Alastor’s bed, the sheets long since gone cold from where Alastor’s sleeping form had once been. The Hotel crew had been hard at work early in the morning - even Husk had skipped his eye-opener glass of whiskey. So, before you had joined the crew in the foyer, you snuck past them and headed for the kitchen. The group was still uneasy around Alastor - everyone except for Husk. The cat demon never gave a fuck about anything regarding the Radio Demon. 

Taking a deep breath, you and the tray made your way to the huddled group in the foyer. “I um… I made coffee?” 

“Thank fuck!” Angel exclaimed. The demon rolled his shoulders and stretched the stiffness from his arms. “Momma needs a drink.” 

You passed off the drinks to their respective partners, finally coming to Charlie. 

“Hey,” you breathed, afraid of saying anything more. This was the first time you were encountering the Princess since the big reveal and although Charlie was always the upbeat, do-gooder of the group, you were still nervous. 

“Hey, um, Aunt… Thestral… Mika-… Mickey… Aunt Mike…” 

God, this was painful to watch. 

“Just call me Mikaela,” you smiled awkwardly, handing her the iced coffee. 

“Okay, Aunt Mikaela,” the Princess smiled softly. 

“Oh…” You blinked. “No, Charlie, it’s okay. You don’t have to…” You huffed, noticing the eyes around you quickly darting away. “I have not earned that title.” Your shoulders slumped as you spoke. 

You never really expected to have this conversation. You had just assumed the worst, but this was Charlie for crying out loud. She was technically family. She was a bleeding heart, so of course she’d want some sort of relationship with you. Yet, you hadn’t really thought down this avenue, thinking you’d forever stay friends and never acknowledge the elephant in the room. Especially considering Lucifer hated you and wanted nothing to do with you… 

Charlie placed a hand on your arm and smiled. “I look forward to that day.” 

The Princess didn’t smile because she agreed with you, she smiled because she recognized the struggle within you. She recognized that you were not ready for that, for whatever reason (~hellah guilt~), and that you needed time to come to terms with the situation. 

So she’d give it to you. 

“Can we get back to plannin’? I’m too hungover for this shit.” Husk grumbled. 

You rejoined the group before the table, squishing yourself between the cat demon and Alastor. 

“Mon couer,” Alastor greeted you with his usual kiss of your hand that made the butterflies in your belly crazy. 

“I don’t approve of this…” Vaggie grumbled as she crossed her arms. 

“Yeah, yeah!” Angel shoved his way between you and Husk. “We know, Small Tits!”

The Radio Demon leaned in, finding any excuse to touch you. His shoulder lightly brushed yours, the dark fabric of his suit accenting his sharp lines. What you would give to rip that suit off of him right here…

“Stop calling me that!” Vaggie stomped her foot, but Angel continued on. 

“Watya tink?” The spider demon motioned to the diorama before him. 

The Hotel was drawn in pencil on a sheet of paper, small objects signifying each of the Hotel Natives. You assumed the glass of scotch was Husk, Angel was the cellphone charm, the grey feather was Vaggie, the needle was Nifty, one of the Eggs (Frank?) represented Sir Pentious, the stress ball was Charlie, and… Alastor was a cut-out music note (probably hand-drawn by Angel). Which meant you were the espresso cup. 

“What is this?” You scrunched your nose. 

“A battle plan!” Angel exclaimed. “Can’t go to war without a strategy. Am I right?” 

You did a doubletake. “This…” You swallowed. 

Angel’s smile dropped. “What? What’s wrong?” The demon analyzed the playing board. 

“Well…” You handed your coffee off to Alastor. “Can I?” You waited for Angel to permit you before - quite literally - rearranging every single icon on the map. Before you were done, it was a completely different strategy. 

“Wow,” Charlie smiled. “Uhm, really - really - good job! But… Can you maybe… maybe explain to those who don’t know what’s going on, what’s going on…” 

Oh, Charlie, dancing around the honest truth: what the fuck were you thinking with this? 

“Well…” You pointed to the scotch and phone charm. “Husk and Angel have natural chemistry.”

“Excuse me?” Husk scoffed. 

“Oooooh,” Angel purred. “You hear that, Whiskers? Chemistry.” Angel leaned into Husk, the older demon rolling his eyes but not pulling away as his cheeks heated. 

“They work well together, I mean.” You cleared your throat. “Angel is a medium-distance fighter, while Husk is more close combat. If the portal to Heaven opens here,” you point to the front of the Hotel. “Which I suspect Adam will do, Angel and Husk can cover the right wing. At the same time, Charlie and Vaggie can cover the left. Same concept with their dynamic. Vaggie has battle experience, and Charlie… Well…” You winced. “She’ll be well taken care of.” 

“I love it,” Angel purred, leaning into Husk even more. The cat demon sidestepped, allowing the spider to fall right onto the carpet. 

“What about me?” Nifty appeared beneath your legs, her head barely appearing over the table's surface. 

“You are a Jungler.”

“Oh!” She laughed maniacally, “A Jungler! Uh, what’s that?”

“A Jungler,” you moved the needle to demonstrate. “Is sort of like a freelancer. You have the power to move between the two groups and work as you please.”

“Why would I do that?” The small demon tilted her head before reaching for the needle. Vaggie swatted her away. 

“Because, you can take out any rogue Angel that slips past or attempts to ambush the four of them,” you explained. 

“Oh, I like that!” She laughed. 

“And me?” Sir Pentious stepped in. 

“With your knowledge of war and supply of long-range weaponry, you’ll be right outside the Hotel, with Angel, Husk. Charlie, and Vaggie being the line between you and the Angels. You and your Egg boys…”

“Hey, that’s me!” Frank pointed out. 

“... will be in charge of long-range attacks against the invading forces. You’ll be aiming for the portal opening: where they concentrate most.”

“Yesssssss, sssssssir!” The snake demon saluted. “It would be our honor!”

You huffed, “That just leaves Al and I.” You moved the music note to the front line. “Alastor is our tank. He does the best against multiple enemies at once and can take the most hits. He’s best suited for the front lines, while I…” You moved the cup to the top of the Hazbin Hotel. “... deal with Adam.”

The entire room went silent. 

“I’m our secret weapon. I’d be best used against their Commander and Second in Command - Lute. I know Adam’s fighting style, which means I know his weaknesses. He won’t be much of a problem for me.” You could technically take out the entire Exorcist force single-handedly if you wanted to, but unleashing the hidden Power within you would be a stupid move. It needed to remain a secret…

The room says nothing for so long you almost question whether they have frozen in time. 

A zip of static runs its way down your spine. You turn to face the Radio Demon, his pupils pinpoint and hard as steel, despite his cool demeanor, meets your gaze. 

You blink, “What?”

Angel leans in and whispers not-so-quietly, “That was Smile’s plan you just messed with, Hair clip.”

Oh, shit. 

No. Wait. 

You crossed your arms, “You want Adam for yourself.”

Alastor laughed, his chuckles shallow and filled with static, “When you say it that way, darling, it sounds selfish. No, no! I simply wish to play my part. What would dear Adam think when Mikaela Morningstar suddenly appeared after a hundred years of silence, hmm?” 

It was always so interesting how Alastor could flip his personality on a dime. He was so different with you when the two of you were alone. The Radio Demon was always just a mask, but one he wore well. It was going to take some used to - this change of pace in front of others - but part of you saw it as playful. So, you played. 

Grinning, you leaned in. Alastor’s grip tightened on his cane, noting the sudden change in proximity while in public. It made him uncomfortable, but you were doing that on purpose. “Who said I’d be going as Mikaela Morningstar?”

“Oh, my!” The Radio Demon pressed a hand to his chest, his eyes feigning a spark of interest. “Had you found your cloak? I thought that shabbish thing went missing for good!” 

You narrowed your eyes at him, ignoring the slight, “No, unfortunately, I haven’t, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make another one.”

“In such a short time!” Alastor leaned in, goating you despite the crowd. “My, my, what a feat that would be to pull off.”

Oh, to dance with the devil… You had one argument in your back pocket you could use that would shut Al up for good, but you would never do that. You would never tell Alastor that he sat a few rungs lower on the hierarchy of power than Adam did… It would destroy him. 

So, instead, you said, “Al, I can handle him…”

“As can I.” Alastor leaned in more, his towering figure bent at an odd angle in order for you to meet him at eye level. “Laisse-moi faire mon travail, mon cœur. Let me do my job, mon couer.”

You blinked before switching to French. “De quoi s'agit-il vraiment? What is this really about, Al?”

The demon smiled, this grin lop-sided and genuine - his Radio Demon persona dropping for but a moment. “Toi, mon cœur, ça a toujours été à propos de toi. You, mon couer, it's always been about you.” 

“I think…” Charlie steps in, “... what Alastor is trying to say is, it’s safer for you if you remain hidden from Heaven.”

Wait, can Charlie switch languages like an Angel could? Well, Vaggie could - she was an Angel - but Charlie was “other.” You didn’t know if she was closer to a demon or an Angel or - God-forbid - a Human Sinner at this point. She was the first of her kind - both belonging to and also not. 

“I won’t hide from a fight.” You turn your energy towards her. 

“You won’t be hiding, you’ll just be…” Charlie’s words ran out. 

But, of course, Al popped in, “You’ll be assisting our dear Princess.” The demon placed a hand on her shoulder in support. “Keeping her safe from any harm during the onslaught from…” Al made direct eye contact with you before continuing, “your plan.”

Fuck. The entire ordeal with Lilith slammed into your mind. You made a promise that your plan would keep Charlie out of harms way and here you were, placing her on a battlefield. Fuck, Alastor was right, you were going to have to watch after her during the chaos. The fight left you then, the realization of the situation weighing down your limbs with lead. 

“Fuck,” you breathed. 

From the corner of your eye, you watched as Rolf switched the music note for the coffee cup, the ceramic finding its new home next to the stress ball and grey feather. 

Leaving Alastor to face Adam alone…

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2 Days till Extermination

Alastor had introduced you to the most important person in his entire life, but she couldn’t be there. 

As you stared at the marbled headstone, worn with age, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt in your gut. Had you not done the things you did, had you returned Eve to Heaven like you were supposed to, you might still be able to pass St. Peter and enter the pearly white gates. You might still be able to return Alastor to his mother instead of standing here at her grave, speaking to the tree she was buried under.

“A pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” you give a small curtsy before Alastor grabbed your hips and pulled you into him. Resting your head on his chest, you stand in silence for a while, letting the wind whip your hair and skirt in the small breeze. It was warm in Louisiana - the Extermination was right around the corner. You should have worn something lighter, but you wanted to wear something nice, something important for this moment. 

Rosie had redone your wardrobe, this time unabashedly dressing you in Alastor’s colors. At your request, she redid the red and black dress you loved so much, the one with a back of black lace. You wore that and a matching red ribbon in your golden hair. God, even on this side, you looked so much like Lucifer it’s a shock no one put it together the moment he stepped foot in the foyer. 

“Alastor,” you breathed into his black lapel jacket. Someone, somewhere, was playing a trumpet, its brass echoing through the green meadow trapped within the heart of the city. “I need to say something.”

“Hmm,” the demon hummed. 

You pulled back a little, yet still in his arms. You needed room for this part, to catch your breath. “Lilith has to die.”

It had been swimming through your mind for days at this point - since you woke in Alastor’s bed and found him smiling in his sleep. 

“Oh?” Alastor’s eyebrows shot up, his smile slightly strained. You knew how he hated talking of Hell’s Queen and you knew why. “And why would that be?”

Taking a breath, you let your power slip out, just like it had that first day at the Hotel. You prodded into Alastor and, this time, he didn’t even put up a fight. You dug deep, swimming through the lake of power he had built up over the years as Overlord, until you found the center - empty. 

Alastor’s Soul was missing. 

“I knew something felt wrong, but I didn’t figure it out until recently. ‘To power and chaos,’ that was the last thing Lilith said to me before she took her trip top-side.”

Although you had but a moment to taste the well of power Alastor carried within him, it felt off. You didn’t know exactly how to describe it until yesterday when you were talking with Angel. 

The spider demon brought you into his room and poked and prodded you about your relationship with the Radio Demon. Mostly he wanted information on the things only lover’s shared in bed, because, of course he did. Yet, the spider demon had asked you a very important question, one you never would have considered had he not brought it up. 

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“So, uh…” Angel rolled onto his side atop the bed, Fat Nuggets snoozing in his arms. “I have ta’ ask this but uh, if yous was a Human Sinner, ya’ think Smiles would be all over ya’ Soul?” 

You paused mid-chew of a sweet lemon square Angel had stashed in his room. After he sampled the ones you shared with him all those moons ago, the spider demon went searching for his own. Not for himself, but for the loveable blob of pink he shared the space with. 

You blinked, mouth full of tartness.

Would Alastor, the Radio Demon, the man Hell-bent on the consumption of power, the architect of some of the most infamous deals in Hell, want your Soul? I mean, you imagined he would. Why wouldn’t he? The demon tried to kill you for power not that long ago, even going so far as to sink an Angelic blade into your flesh. Yet, he was a man consumed then, a veil of desire overshadowing his senses, but he broke through. Yes, you nearly destroyed half of a border town district in doing so but in the end, Alastor came back to you. 

So, given the chance, would he persuade you - violently - into signing a contract to give over your Soul?  

“Yes,” you swallowed. 

Angel narrowed his eyes at you, “Ya’ seriously tink that, Hair clip?”

The lemon squares suddenly became too distracting. “I do. Do you know why?” You pushed the sugary delights away, clearing space for yourself physically and mentally to think this out. “Alastor nearly killed me, but he didn’t. In the end… In the end, he chose me. Had he been after my Soul, well, I’d still end up on that radio tower balcony with a knife to my throat. And it would have gone the exact same way it did the first time.”

Angel’s jaw dropped, “Wow, ya got a lot more faith in him than the rest of us evah would.” 

Oh yes, Alastor would want your Soul… but what of his? Your stomach twisted. 

You snort, willing the thought away, “Yeah, that’s why I’m the one getting dick and you’re not.”

The pig demon jumped as Angel exploded in a fit of laughter. “Holy shit! Okay! Okay…” He wheezed. “Okay, one last question. One last question!” The demon regained his breath. “I need ya’ to answer me seriously, gurl. Does the carpet match the drapes?”

You shoot him a dumb look. “Seriously?”

“As serious as the day I died.”

You rolled your eyes. “Anything that is said in here never leaves this room, understood?” Angel had managed to weasel a few - A FEW - details regarding your sex life. Alastor was a very private person; you knew he would hate if serious ~details~ ever got out. So, you stuck to mostly the softer topics regarding your relationship - despite Angel’s protests. 

“Ya! Ya!” Angel rolled onto his back, his head dangling over the side of the bed. “You’ve reminded me like fifty fuckin’ times. Just tell me!”

You grumbled, but trusted the spider demon anyway, “Yes.”

“I knew it! RED LIPSTICK DICK!” the demon shouted. 

“Angel!”  

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Alastor spun you before you could read more of his face, wrapping his arms around you from behind, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck. He wasn’t hiding from you; he just couldn’t handle the way you looked at him. Not with pity - never pity - but intent, and he didn’t want that to fuel the guilt growing inside him. 

The demon places a kiss on your bare skin, “Mother would have adored you.”

You breathed, a small smile forming on your face, “And I, her.”

You felt the demon smile against your skin.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, comfortable in the silence, enjoying the beautiful day. Unfortunately, all things must come to an end. The change of the weather was warming you to the point of discomfort, the humidity sticking to your skin. You curtsied to the grave and placed a kiss on Alastor’s cheek, thanking him for this moment and silently hoping for many more to come.

“Are you ready?” You snap your fingers, and the Hotel foyer beamed back at you through the crack in reality. 

“I will be,” Alastor had his back to you, his hands finding his pants pockets. “I need a moment, my doe.”

My doe? That was new. 

You note the stiffness in his shoulders, the sudden downturn of his smile - a thing he only ever let you see. Resisting the urge to rub the tension from his arms, you step through, giving Alastor Hartfelt a moment alone with his mother. 

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The Day Before The Extermination

“Alright, bring it in!” Angel pulled the last bit of the clutter from the doorway, the chairs and tables used to barricade the doors from the torrential media outside. The media plagued you tirelessly as Velvette continued to spread her gossip to any news media outlet that would listen - which was all of them.

The media sharks had circled the Hotel guests for the past three days. Stalking them in the streets and on social media. The only time they didn’t go running after a Hotel Native was when Alastor left the Hotel with Charlie to visit Rosie in Cannibal Town. Angel was the one to suggest a barricade and he was right in doing so. The rest of you have managed to sneak out the back and circle in through the Doomsday District. It was a bitch of a walk but what else was one to do? 

You were just thankful the crew didn’t resent you for it. That being said, there wasn’t really any time for that - particularly today. There was far too much to be done to prepare this place and the surrounding grounds for the onslaught you were about to face. You had the disadvantage of being sitting ducks, but the advantage of surprise. 

That’s where Carmilla came in. Vaggie had somehow swung the Overlord into promising resources for your battle. This is what led you and Angel to spend nearly an hour removing the wonderful barricade to allow boxes upon boxes of sparkling weapons to be delivered to the Hotel. 

Boxes and boxes of weapons which could kill you…

“You can drop those by the bar,” you informed the first demon in the line of demons carrying boxes. The demon, a praying mantis by the looks of him, eyed you weirdly but continued on with his work. 

Not surprising. Velvette was saying some pretty nasty shit about you. The newest and most supported rumor was that you were sent from Heaven to spy on the inner workings of Hell in order to kill more demons off in the next Extermination. Which made sense, why would the  Extermination date move up? The beheading of the Exorcist was only known to a select few - the majority of which were in the Hotel with you. The rest of the City had to put the pieces together without that information, and an Angel showing up and attempting to take down not one but four different Overlords looked - to them - to be an attack on Hell’s power system. An attempt to strip the underworld down and weaken it before the next attack. 

It didn’t matter that you had actually come to Hell to empower it, to raise it up into a formidable force, to build an army to fight. You were just thankful they had moved on from topics like your sex life. 

Can’t a woman enjoy power without accusations of “whoring herself out?”

Alastor also mentioned that they even interviewed Susan, but nothing was published, as everything she said was too nice and supportive. The media wanted scandal, not sweet stories about tea time with Granny. 

“Sign here,” a familiar yet quiet voice rings out. 

Odette. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you twisted in place, your gaze finding the light-skinned demon. Surprisingly, she doesn’t look away, but instead makes her way towards you. 

Was something wrong? Odette never spoke to you directly, let alone confronted you alone, ever since the incident on Extermination Day. She was a soft spoken woman before, now she had gone completely silent. 

“Mikaela,” she nods, ever the young girl she always was. 

“Odette, is everything okay?” You crinkled your nose in concern, your palms sweaty with anxiety. You resisted the urge to rub the back of your neck as images of blood filled your vision. 

“Yes,” She huffs, looking down. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but words have evaded me.” 

Ah, there was her academic mind. Always such a well-spoken demon with what little words she did possess.

“I believe you have miscalculated, in regards to my mother…”

Oh? You blinked. 

“What happened that day…” Her gaze falls to her clipboard as she clutches it against her chest. “… was a miracle and I will be forever grateful. However, the circumstances regarding said miracle have brought tension between you and my mother and I can no longer sit idly by and watch as she withers away.” 

The demon thrusts her clipboard before you to reveal a contract. 

“My mother promised you Souls in exchange for your services with the Vees. That has since ended and you are thus due payment. However…”

Odette flips the top page over to reveal a black obsidian calling card. Carmilla’s true name shines on its surface in bright white. “I will no longer sit by and watch my mother wrack herself sick with guilt. So I ask you this, sign the contract, take the card, and erase my mother’s memories of that fateful day.” 

You blinked. “What? Why?” 

“My mother blames herself for what happened to me. She has barely allowed me out of the penthouse, let alone the building. Today was the first day in weeks, but my endeavor from home was necessary, pending the deliveries. My hope is that, by taking back this card and erasing her memories, she will forget my near death and move on with her life.” 

Oh…

It would work. Carmilla didn’t have to be the one to relieve the card, it simply had to be taken from her in any manner that could arise. Carmilla wouldn’t only forget your identity but every moment you shared together. It was a failsafe you and Rosie input into the cards the day you made them - a dramatic but necessary move to make. 

So the question was, was Carmilla a friend? Yes, she tortured you when you first arrived - hung you from the ceiling and tortured you for information, but the two of you had moved on from that. You were now business partners, partners in crime, and also… familiar with each other. 

The day Odette almost died you were just as hopeless as Carmilla and Clara. You would have slit your own wrist had you thought it would have worked. Odette was right, her healing from a traumatic wound such as that was a miracle. 

The deaths of the 14 demons who saw however… That was what haunted you. Yes, you’ve killed before but always with purpose. Killing humans on Earth meant nothing knowing they had an afterlife to look forward to. Killing Human Sinners in Hell, however, it meant ending their entire existence. That was different and the days you could hold back the ever bloodthirsty Book of Knowledge you stuck by that rule. The times you couldn’t… Well… Killing was too easy. 

“No,” you breathed. “I’ll take the Souls but not the card.” You dipped to meet her gaze. “I’ve recently learned how important my friendships are to me in this world, and I don’t plan on giving them up that easily. I’m sorry for the things your mother has been going through but what happened was not her fault.” You placed a hand on Odette’s shoulder. “I would have done the same had someone I…” Your eyes flit to the bar, to where Alastor sat sipping a glass of rye, he and Husk were well entranced within a conversation. “Someone important to me was hurt. After all this is over, Odette, I will pay the three of you a visit and set this right. In any way that I can. If your mother wishes to give up the card herself after that, then I will accept, but it must come from her. I owe her that much…” 

Odette gives a slight nod, the downturn of her mouth illuminating her disappointment.

“And, Odette, if I thought at the time there was something I could have done, I would have. Do not feel guilty for surviving. Whatever form that may take.” 

Odette was looking but you could tell she wasn’t really listening. After you told her no her gaze glazed over as if her mind was elsewhere. It was fine. Trauma is rarely resolved after one conversation. 

You brought the demon into a hug, shocking her as much as you did yourself. You weren’t good at this emotion thing and comforting others, but you were getting much better at it. 

“You’re a survivor, Odette, just like me…”

____________________________________________

Elsewhere in Hell… 

The Mafia boss sat with his back to the desk, a roaring fire of green illuminating the darkened office. “So, you say you're good? 'Cuz we really need a big score right now…” 

Swiveling in his high-backed chair, the imp turns. 

“The best, had a royal on the ropes just last week.” Striker sets his glass of wine on the desk, allowing Alessio - the imp’s butler - to refill their glasses. 

Crimson was more of a whiskey man himself, he preferred the burn as much as the dulling numbness from the alcohol, but the wine wasn’t for him. It was for his guest. 

“Sure, but not dead?” The question comes out sharper than he wants, but then again, Crim was not in a good mood. 

He had been embarrassed. In public. Minutes after you disappeared, the shots of blue electricity following in your wake, the imp boss spotted a pissed-off mass of red barreling straight for the Entertainment District. The demon quickly called off his gang, knowing full well what a visit from the Radio Demon would bring his crew. Crim was brash, but he wasn’t stupid. 

“It was... called off. But I have a body count in the hundreds! I ain't afraid to go after anyone. Women, kids-” The roar of the crowd outside interrupts their conversation, but the imp continues before climbing to his feet to check the window. “And cute little-faced puppy-lookin' things. Don't matter!

“Hmm…” Crim thought, “I'll tell ya what. If you can deliver something of value... I'll consider it. You see, I have a particularly irritating Heavenly creature I need something done about.”

Striker smirks, the gleam in his crazed eye evident even in the low light. Now that was an opportunity the assassin could not pass up. “One moment…”

Striker opens the window and pulls out his lasso. Sending the rope soaring into the streets below, the assassin finds his mark and pulls. Two figures fly into the room and slam against the back wall, interrupting a particularly intense game of billiards between two of Crim’s demons. 

Fizzarolli and Blitz.

Crimson laughs, “Hired!”

Striker corners the two demons against the wall, “Funny to run into ya’ again, Blitzy!" The assassin pulls out his knife and slides toward the clown imp, pointing it under his chin. “And with a famous friend…”

Blitz rolls his eyes, “Oh, fuck me.”

Fizzarolli crosses his arms, “For the record, we are not friends.”

____________________________________________

The Night Before…

Normally chaos excited you. Normally you and Alastor couldn’t keep your hands off each other at the mere thought of it, but tonight… Tonight all you wanted to do was lay wrapped in his arms, your stomach twisting itself into knots as you played with the fur on his chest. 

You were nervous. You were worried. Trepidation was such an odd thing, the potential promise of hurt an ever-looming dark cloud that threatened rain but never dropped it. 

You’ve been worried for Alastor before, most notably the day Velvette fake kidnapped him atop V Tower, but not like this. This was disabling concern. It made you leave the pre-fight celebration early tonight - the last hoorah before looking death straight in the face tomorrow. No, that wasn’t quite right. There was life after death. This was extinction. 

And if anything happened to Alastor, there would be no way to bring him back…

“My doe,” Alastor pressed a kiss to your forehead, bringing you from your thoughts. “You’re sparking.” 

“Oh,” you blinked, noticing the blues dancing off your skin. “Sorry.” 

Alastor had noticed you sneaking off early from the festivities - because, of course, he did. When you had reached the top of the stairs and headed for your room, well… Alastor couldn’t have that now could he? Rolf shadowed the two of you to his room, where the demon insisted on a bath.

There wasn’t anything sexual about it. Alastor layed you against him as he scrubbed the stress from your skin, massaging the worry from your scalp as he shampooed your hair.

It was the day before battle and Alastor was taking care of you - YOU - a battle-born soldier who has seen more bloody encounters than she could count. You had faced down pure death and yet here you were, shaking like a leaf with anxiety as a Human Sinner soothed your worries. 

Alastor ran a hand through your hair, tucking the locks gently behind your ear. “You’re worried.”

“I am,” you bit your lip, Alastor’s nails eliciting goosebumps as they trailed down your shoulder and arm. 

It was ironic: the demon who detested physical contact couldn’t keep his hands off you. Yet, it was also an odd comfort. You had never been “touched” in this way before. You’ve never had someone be so gentle with you. Like your wings neatly tucked away, your skin had only ever really known things like hurt and pain. It was a weird adjustment to kindness and one you weren’t quite used to.

You still flinched whenever Alastor reached for you. You still jumped when he approached from behind. You still winced when his hand went to your hair…

Years of abuse and then years without… Your body still has a memory even if your mind was elsewhere.

“The plan will work,” Alastor hummed into your hair, the scent of his shampoo wafting off the two of you in droves. It would have been its own kind of soothing high had you not been so tense. 

The two of you lay beneath his covers, wrapped in the warmth of Alastor’s Hotel bath robes. Your legs were intertwined with his, your toes warming themselves against the demon’s calves. Alastor always made a point to keep his hooves away from your feet - almost as if he was self-conscious about his lack of toes. Yet you fought him on it, intentionally tangling your legs together so he couldn’t pull away. 

“It’s not the plan that worries me…” Your voice trailed off. 

Alastor’s hand stopped to cup your face and guided your eyes to his. Worry crinkled his brow, his smile faltering to a thin line of his lips. There was understanding before he spoke, “You worry for me.”

Your lip trembled as you huffed. Digging your head into the fluff of his chest, you felt the hot tears begin to build behind your eyes, the air suddenly sucked from the room as your heart finally acknowledged the terrifying elephant in the room. 

“Oh, ma biche chérie, ne verse pas de larmes pour mon âme. Oh, my darling doe, shed not tears for my Soul.”

“You’re facing Adam, tomorrow, Alastor - an extremely powerful Angel.” Your voice cracked. 

Alastor gently tipped your face into his, your chin tucked between his forefinger and thumb. “An extremely powerful Human Soul.” The demon corrects.

A Human Soul. 

Right. 

Adam was merely a Human Soul. On the tiers of power he was leagues below you, but Alastor? You had always been taught that an Angel outweighs a Human Sinner in all aspects of reality, but then again you were also taught that Angels couldn’t die so…

“Promise me something?” You propped yourself up on your elbows as you spoke, overtowering Alastor beneath you. The demon wouldn’t be caught dead in this position with anyone else.

“Hmm,” he merely responded, his eyes gloomy with the weight of your worry.

“If anything happens…”

“It will not.”

“If anything happens,” you repeat. “Promise that you will either send Rolf for me or use the calling card?” 

The demon paused for a breath, mixed emotions brewing within him. He couldn’t decide whether to give in to your worry for him as opposed to arguing against it. After all, Alastor the Radio Demon didn’t have a reputation for being weak. Your lack of confidence in him was not a lack of confidence. It was worry; albeit, misplaced. Alastor could take care of himself, he had for years. In his mind he had taken down top dogs more powerful than himself before - even Overlords before he became one. Adam was just another name on the list.

The Radio Demon wasn’t fretting over the confrontation so he didn’t see why you would be? Well… That’s not true. A part of him was worried but not for himself, for you. Tomorrow would shine a lot of Heavenly attention on the Hotel - unwanted attention for someone in hiding from Heaven. He worried what might happen to you should anyone discover who you are during the campaign - and you still hadn’t found your cloak. 

Charlie had managed to help you stitch something together last minute but it was nothing compared to ancient magic. What you would be wearing tomorrow would be nothing but a clothed hood…

“And should anything happen to you?” The demon countered.

You blinked, not expecting the question. 

“I have seen you die once, my doe. I will not see it again.”

There it was again: “my doe.”

“I will be by Charlie’s side the entire time. Should anything happen, Vaggie will be the one to let everyone know, for they will be going after the Princess next…” 

“Hmm,” Alastor did not like that answer. 

Then, a thought hit you. “Give me your card.”

Without any hesitation, Alastor pulled the obsidian calling card from the void and watched as you flipped the metal over, his true name hidden beneath your fingers. You waived your hand over the darkness and watched the black consolidate into text, like bleeding ink on wet paper but in reverse. It was a hidden contract in plain sight. One every Human Sinner inadvertently signed with their blood when you granted them the right to summon you. 

“Rosie helped me design these.” You mumbled. “She wrote them, but I signed them. Perhaps if I…” The words changed beneath your hand, reforming a new contract. “There…” You handed the card back to Alastor and watched as the ink saturated the card, solidifying it into shining obsidian once more. 

The demon raised an eyebrow at you. 

Taking his hand in yours, you pressed it to your chest. “Close your eyes,” you demanded.

And he obeyed. 

“Think of me,” you began. “Think of…”

“Lavender,” the demon interrupted almost immediately. After all, thinking of you wasn’t hard to do. The scent of the decadent flower filled the demon’s nose as real and as solid as the beat of your heart beneath his fingers. “Red wine.” Cabernet hit his tongue, the tannins dancing across his taste buds. The demon smiled, the curl of his lips lopsided as he smiled his iconic half-cocked grin. “The forest.” Greens and browns blinded the demon’s vision.

You sucked in a breath. 

Alastor slowly opened his eyes, his pupils dilating at the sight of you. “And… The humidity of Louisiana…”

You stared back, the realization hitting you like a ton of bricks. 

Somewhere, somehow, along the way, Alastor had become a part of you… 

Your heart kicked into a frenzy at what that meant, but still oh-so afraid to voice it…

Three little words and yet…

“The softness of your hair,” Alastor’s claws found your silver locks, his fingers threading through the strands. “Your skin.” The back of the demon’s knuckles traced your cheek. “Your lips.” 

Alastor leaned in and kissed you. His tongue drinking in the lingering taste of you. He broke away for but a moment, “I can feel you.”

The obsidian calling cards gave you an unnatural avenue into the lives of the holders. It allowed you to feel their emotions, to scent their Souls, to taste their desires. The contract opened a connection that you and Rosie had not originally intended - yet didn’t change. Reconfiguring the contract had opened that door and allowed it to flow both ways. It was almost like the connection you shared when you inadvertently signed your verbal contract on the balcony of his radio tower - except this was different. It wasn’t as strong and only allowed you to sense the other - a mere skim of the surface compared to what you had experienced. 

The demon drove you onto your back before settling himself between your legs. With his forehead on yours, the two of you out of breath, he spoke, “Mourir d’amour, vivre de haine*…"

You didn’t have a chance to switch your brain to French before the demon’s lips were back on yours, his hips perfectly aligned before driving himself in.  

That night, before chaos and destruction, before death and suffering, before fear and heartbreak, you made love to the Radio Demon…

And you prayed - you prayed it wasn't the final time…

* "Mourir d’amour, vivre de haine" = This is an extremely sad quote that has many many meanings even in the French language. It can be translated as "dying from unfulfilled love," "Dying for love, living for hatred," etc... I used it here to mean "dying for love." Read into that how you will, but it's extremely fitting for Alastor's character arc at this point in time.

Last transition chapter - Chapter 18 will be the Finale! There will be alternate endings!

-> Chapter 18 Coming Soon!

Tagged Hoteliers: (Let me know if you wish to be added!):

@sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @mommymilkers0526 @goyablogsstuff

@eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @sillywormtrixareforkids @its-a-dam-blue-brick

@cloverresin20 0 @blue-bird251 @speedycoffeedelight @littlebluefishtail l @saw1987

@mopeyghost @beelz3bub @fraugwinska @minamilinaqueen n @demoarah

@diffidentphantom @divineknightmare @animecrazy76 @sleepykittycx @graunta

@reath-solia @satansdaughter123 @mysticatto @freshonyourpages

@chibistar45

[sky-is-the-limit]

"It's what friends do."

P:F!Reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

CW: Afab Reader,Infedelity,

NSFW,Oral(recieving)

Song Rec: Friends by Chase Atlantic

WC: 2,560 words

Notes: @chai-isms had this lovely idea and I just had to extend it.. :)

Disclaimer: I'm not a writer!

____________________________________

"Okay, okay, I get it. You missed me." He murmures softly, a wide grin spreading across his face. You can hear his heartbeat as you hug, a soothing rhythm that calmes your nerves, one hand cupping the back of your head gently. His leather jacket is cold against your skin, contrasting the warmth of his breath against your temple. You barely had time to brush your hair and hastily put on your pj's before answering the door, excitement washing over you knowing who's behind it.

"Damn right I did, you idiot." I still do, you wanted to admit. You always do. Saudade is difficult to deal with, it deepens when there’s nothing you can do to bring a person back to you and especially when death can easily fall into the equation. It always takes a few days for you to calm your restless heart down, sooth it that he's safe back home, where Sergeant Garrick is put to rest and Kyle gets to breathe again, alive once more.

You'd think that repetition makes it easier with time until you remember that your hug is a foreshadowing of the goodbye that would later tear you apart. It always does and there's nothing to fill the immeasurable emptiness until you can see kind amber eyes staring back into yours.

"Hey, I'm right here, all in one piece. I'm here." Now his lively cheekiness turns into reassuring whispers, as though he can sense your worried thoughts. You can feel his grip tighten, hearts thumping in unison to the sound of gentle rain landing on the ground outside.

You and Kyle are like magnets. Always finding your way back to each other no matter what. It's rare to find a friendship like yours, even more complex to describe it. You met five years ago when your dearest cousin started dating one of his closest friends, mutual gatherings bringing you closer together until you became inseparable. It wasn't abnormal for people to assume that there was something more between the two of you.

You won't lie to yourself that thoughts as such never creeped in. Thinking of all the late nights you'd spent covertly admiring his profile, he had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. A smile bright enough to illuminate the darkest corners of the room along with unusually sharp canines in contrast with his soft features.

He is striking, as if angels had carved his looks and you'd be a horrendous liar if you dared to say otherwise.

''I missed you too, you know. In case that wasn't clear.'' He finally untangles his arms from your body, hesitantly at first, then stands a foot apart, unwilling to completely let go. A sense of completeness washed over you, as if the hug had filled a void only he could create and make disappear. Kyle's eyes twinkle, accompanying the familiar playful tone in his voice before his gaze flicker past you, giving his attention elsewhere.

''Is he coming tonight?'' Oh. Him. You don't even have to match his gaze's direction to know he's staring at one of the photos on the wall. With Kyle's return, you forgot that the rest of the world existed, even your own boyfriend. The bitterness in his voice crystal clear matching the subtle frown on his lips.

They never liked each other, really. Always competing for the number one spot in your heart as if that question wasn't already answered with the way you look at solely one of them.

It hasn't been long since you've started dating Eric, a timid, gentle soul with strawberry blonde hair and emerald green eyes. He is handsome, no doubt. Always treating you with kindness and respect, giving you his undivided attention and time like every proper boyfriend should. Yet every time you look at him, you get reminded of the awful motive hiding behind the start of your relationship. He is Kyle's polar opposite.

It's fucked up, you know it. The moment cold realization washed over you like a thousand crushing waves that you might feel more for Kyle, you immediately said yes to the first person who showed interest in you. Someone who reminded you nothing of the man who offered you sleepless nights, wondering if he's still breathing under the same sky. A deluded solution to a problem that cannot be resolved.

"Uh, no. He's stuck at work, so he'll probably stay at his place tonight." The growing smirk that was plastered all over his face the second you mumbled those words was transparently clear, no ounce of shame behind filthy thoughts forming in his mind.

"Good, I deserve some time alone with you." He leers at you, eyebrow arching.

"Kyle-" You try to look away, eyes darting around the kitchen but inevitably drawn back to his.

"Obviously, you needed someone to fill the time now that I was gone." His forwardness doesn't surprise you one bit. Though you attempt to keep a cool demeanour, your body is practically vibrating with anticipation. You keep your eyes locked in his, arms over your chest as though to keep your trembling heart from jumping out.

"What makes you think he's not enough?" Your playful provocation works wonders. He looks at you with his mismatched gaze, daring. A fainted gasp escapes your lips, eyes widening as he suddenly closes the distance between you with a purposeful stride. 

"You want proof now, Y/N?" Kyle murmurs, thumbs tracing your abdomen over your soft cotton shirt, teasing at the waistband of your shorts. He took a step closer, leading you to press your lower back against the kitchen table whilst holding your gaze, completely still, clearly just torturing you at this point. Suddenly, you feel Kyle's cool fingers smooth over your bare thigh, and you instinctively jerk your leg away. You don't mean to, your skin is warm, and his hands are frigid.

"How about the countless nights of you calling me after he leaves so I can finish what he couldn't?" His fingers gently touch the side of your neck, caressing it softly as the words melt into your system, bringing back the agreement you so desperately missed while he was away. You had initially brushed it off as sexual frustration mixed with alcohol and your disoriented brain when it first happened. Oh, how naive you were.

A New year's eve party, a drunken kiss and a soft whispered 'I want you' brought both of you back to your cold apartment, flaming skins and shameless moans disturbing the deafening silence of the night. It started happening more frequently, as if your body was subconsciously begging for his touch and he was always aware. Perhaps it was the deep rooted loneliness that led to this, Kyle with his isolated job and you with your self -destructive tendencies.

How utterly wrong you were. You desperately told yourself that once you get a proper boyfriend, you'd put an end to this. Your body had a different reaction to your plans, rejecting your boyfriend's touch as if Kyle engraved his name onto it and it will accept no other.

"Fuck, this is so wrong-" You admit, a little breathless as if the words have no meaning behind them. The guilt vanished the moment you saw him again.

"It's what friends do, right?" Goosebumps slither down your spine as he whispers in your ear, lips gently grazing your lobe and your hips buck slightly, desperately at the lightest touch. To your surprise, his erection is readily felt on your thigh through the thick layer of his jeans, making you quiver instinctively.

"Help one another when one's in need, hm?" A surge of arousal hits your body instantly, feeling the near instant reaction between your thighs arising by the second. You can't help but shudder as he runs his thumb over your clothed nipple, your breasts heaving as you breathe rapidly. You ache for him like a starved animal locked in a cage for far too long.

"And I'm gonna show you, what a good fucking friend I am." Kyle informs you, his lips descending hungrily upon yours. Before you can respond, he scoops you up in one swift sweep, wrapping your legs around his waist. You catch yourself wanting to curse your reflection out for ever complaining that he needs to spend less time at the gym whilst he carries you like nothing, setting you down on the table without ever so much as lessening the strength of his kiss. His tongue dances around yours, stopping only to bite and pull at your lower lip.

It didn't take long for him to start trailing sloppy kisses from your jaw to your pulse, biting the place at the base of your neck where it connected your shoulder, then sucking the skin and licking over the freshly formed bruise. The thought of the mess awaiting for you tomorrow when your mind is clear from his intoxication, briefly creeps in and disappears with the same pace, every muscle in your body clenching to his mercy.

''Fuck, I missed you.'' He breathes, voice thick and gravelly with need and desire, before tucking his head into the base of your neck to take a long, shuddering breath in, his hands scurrying hungrily over your hips, thighs, and stomach, as if he's trying to remember your perfume, your body all over again.

''Show me.'' Please, you want to add but the words are lodged in your throat and get swallowed down the moment he brings his gaze back up to meet yours, lips brushing your own softly. You'd ruin yourself for him, turn your life upside down, all he had to do was say the word.

''You want me to take care of you, love?'' He asks breathlessly, his nose nuzzling against yours gently, sending blood up to redden your cheeks furiously to the sound of the sweet endearment. The words were soft like a blanket, pulling at your heart.

''Yes, please.'' A soft whine escapes your parted lips softly, your hips arcing upwards desperately to try and meet his. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, screaming for him and him alone.

''You know I will.'' He murmurs, eyes darkening proportionally with each new inch of skin exposed as his fingertips slid underneath your shirt, caressing your sides. ''I always do.'' No doubt ever crossed your mind when it comes to him, yet it's never needless to have him say it, voice oozing with desire.

''Beautiful.'" He whispers, tugging your bra cups down so your breasts were over the fabric of your shirt, making you squeak, blinking owlishly at the sudden development. Gasping at his touch, you grind yourself against him, desperate for contact while he immediately begins sucking, biting, and licking your nipple while grabbing the other breast with his right hand, massaging it firmly.

''I need more- please Kyle!'' Your nails drag down his forearms, creating red lines impatiently and you're a mess. Suddenly the cool temperature of the room turns into unbearable heat, skin on fire contradicting the cold sweat slipping down your spine.

“That bad, hm?” He asks, slyly grinning against your burning skin. Even in these circumstances, he’s a cocky bastard, knowing exactly how lonely it felt without him, even with a warm body sleeping beside you. He quickly moves down so your thighs are on his shoulders, stretching between them, his cheek caressing against familiar softness. Your black laced undergarments slip off your body with ease, and you’re left bare under his hungry gaze.

He turns his attention to your soaked cunt, folds glistening with your overflowing slick. Without hesitation, he presses his lips against your slit, licking painfully slow your arousal and groaning at the taste of you.

Oh, if he only knew how many sleepless nights you spent with your own hand right where his mouth currently savors you, wishing it was him instead.

''Kyle-'' You moan his name like a desperate prayer, voice feeble and croaky to his touch. If your neighbors weren't already aware of his return, they are now. He shoots you a quick, sly smirk from between your legs before turning his focus to the task at hand, zeroing in on your clit, sucking tenderly as your legs clip down automatically around his ears, trembling.

His tongue is painfully, awfully delicate and torturously slow as it circles your sweet spot. In need to feel more pressure, you try to lift your hips into the pleasure as his grasp tightens on your thighs, promising blue shaded marks to appear so to hold you into place.

''I'll make up for the time I spent away from you.'' He drawles between tongue flicks, amber eyes fixed up at your face, not wanting to miss a second. Both of your hands were now gripping the table edge as you arch your back to the sensation, your core throbbing with pleasure.

''Your fingers-'' Before you could even finish your request, his plump lips rested against your clit, sucking it with need as he inserts two fingers inside of you with ease, curling them upwards to hit your spot instantly. His fingers fuck into you slowly, agonizing, matching the pace of his tongue flickering every inch of you. You jolt as if you’d been electrocuted, tense and shirking as you grip the wooden edges so tight, your fingernails might leave marks underneath.

''All yours, baby.'' His voice sounds so broken and wrecked, he craves this as much as you, if not more. Your fingers tug at his hair, desperate for something to keep yourself grounded. The sound that escapes his lips is so feral, almost like a growl. His pace is brutal, and your eyes blur with stars as he hits the deepest parts inside of you with his long fingers over and over. 

You can feel the orgasm building inside of you with each thrust of his fingers, threatening to leave you shaking and breathless in a way no man could ever quite manage.

Kyle humms softly, and your toes curl as the sound washes over you like a heated wave.

"You taste so good, fuck-" He whispers breathlessly before licking you again, slower and more deliberately than before. The action draws a sharp cry from your lips which is quickly stifled as you bite down on them, squirming under the flickers of sensation. It never fails to surprise you how easily he can read your body language, as though you're connected and so he quickens his pace, working in broad strokes, sliding against the sides of your labia.

You can no longer control the moans and whimpers that leave you as he laps at your cunt, white dots your vision as the orgasm hits you hard, your whole body shaking with the sudden release of tension. When Kyle finally tugs his fingers out, your walls clench around them, almost like your body was trying to keep them inside for as long as possible. It was heady, intoxicating and you couldn't get enough.

Speechless, your hand reaches down to his face, tracing the outline of it with your fingertips.

''Don't mention it.'' Kyle chuckles at your loss of words, raising himself up so he can press a soft kiss on your cheek, before bringing his hand to his lips, allowing himself to taste your arousal soaking his fingertips.

''It's what friends do.''

[valhallaforducks]

So what if the trust between Porsche and Chay never recovers? Porsche is off living his best Mafia Wife life and pays very little attention to Chay. So Chay just stops sharing with Porsche. He stops relying on him. And Porsche just... doesn't notice. Chay and Kim get back together, but they don't say anything about it at first. They like keeping their relationship between the two of them. Chay and Kim don't change their behavior with each other around their brothers but Kim isn't into PDA so the brothers just don't notice. Khun is locked in his own world, Kinn and Porsche don't pay much attention to them. They wouldn't lie when asked, but nobody asks. They just think "Oh. The babies are friends" and never think about it again. When Chay moves in with Kim, Porsche determines the apartment is secure, but otherwise doesn't question it. The apartment is closer to Chay's school, so he just assumes Chay will be moving into a second bedroom as a roommate. Porsche never visits. Chay always comes to Porsche. The first clue Porsche gets that there is something going on with Kim and Chay is at Chay's graduation. When Chay's name is announced it's "Porchay Theerapanyakul". Porsche is baffled. He confronts Chay about it, asking why Theerapanyakul and Chay answers "I took my husband's last name". What husband? Chay reveals that he and Kim married last year in a private ceremony with a few friends and two witnesses. That he and Kim have been together for years. That he never hid it. He assumed everyone knew. Porsche asks why Chay never said anything. Chay answers "You never asked. You never seemed interested. The only conversation we've had in years has been either about you, whether or not I'm taking my guards with me, or how my classes are going. You never cared about my personal life." Porsche asks how Chay couldn't invite him to his wedding. Chay explains it was small and private because they didn't want it to leak that Wik was married. That they only invited the people who supported their relationship. That Vegas and Macau were their witnesses. That they genuinely believed that their brothers didn't care about them enough to clear their schedules and show up. Porsche asks how he could think that. Chay says "Because you haven't once in the past four years." Porsche is horrified. Kinn and Khun are horrified. They never once considered that their neglect could erode their relationships to the point that they wouldn't be invited to the wedding. They try to explain that it wasn't that they didn't care, it was because they didn't know. Chay and Kim point out that they didn't know because they didn't care. They never cared about what was going on in their lives. Porsche promises that he'll make it up to Chay, but Chay simply says "No, thank you." Kim and Chay are happy. They don't need their brothers' approval, attention or care. They have support now. They have friends. They have Vegas, Macau and Pete. It's nice to know their brothers care, but as far as a close relationship? That ship has sailed.

Porsche is devastated. He simply doesn't understand how Chay thought he didn't care about him. Chay simply points out that Porsche *didn't* care about him. Not really. He only cared that Chay was safe and that he was fulfilling Porsche's dream of going to college. That they went weeks, months without talking. That their close relationship died the night Porsche left Chay alone in their parents house with just a note. Porsche has lost Chay. Chay will still text, still visit, but he will never let Porsche in again.

[aeternallis]

It may be a bit of a hot take, but imo Kimchay has always been the most insidious of the three canon couples in KPTS, and I just love that for them.

It's deceptively easy at first glance to assume they're the healthiest/softest couple in the show, because at the onset of their relationship, they meet under the best of circumstances when compared to the other two. They don't have any questionable explicit scenes, and their storyline is almost cut off from the intertwining web of the other two couples' storylines.

But with the exception of their first meeting at the open house, every interaction thereafter—no matter how kind Kim acts, whatever feelings he begins to have for Chay, no matter how guilty he looks each time—takes place against the backdrop of Kim's hidden motives and the looming truth of who he is.

It's always been fascinating to me how KimChay stands out against the other two couples, because unlike Porsche and Pete who have the physical prowess to fight off Kinn and Vegas respectively and reinforce the boundaries they have when these hardheaded mafia men disrespects their autonomy, the only thing Chay has going for him in order to reinforce said boundaries is through mental fortitude. Being blunt with Kim about minding his own business, not answering his call, blocking his number...all these things shows the level of self-respect Chay has for himself when he's been wronged.

We the audience knows this, this isn't anything new. What Chay lacks in physical capability, he more than makes up for by that metaphorical spine of steel.

That’s not to say that I’m minimizing what Porsche and Pete went through; all the Theerapanyakul men are underhanded in some form or another. Porsche and Pete too have the capability in talking back through their own mental fortitude; they would have to, considering the lives they’ve lead thus far. But when push comes to shove, these two also have the added fighting capability—earned through a lifetime of hardship and necessity—to stave off the mafia men’s physical aggression, as we see a couple of times in the show. It’s partly through this fighting capability that they earn Kinn and Vegas’s respect, that they learn the hard way that Porsche and Pete won't be bullied so easily.

I cannot stress enough the fact that there is a difference between loving someone and respecting them.

The honesty between KinnPorsche and VegasPete has always had a brutal edge to it; I think it's why they both get a happily ever after (at least where we leave them off in the show), because they've already seen the worst of each other.

But we know that Chay in contrast isn't a fighter, if his immediate reaction to the kidnappers is anything to go by. One would think that this isn't his first rodeo with an attempted attack in his home (loan sharks and all that), and he’d know some self-defense considering who his brother is. Yet still, his instinct was to call for help, as he probably would do the same had Porsche been there with him.

But as we see in the show, Porsche’s overprotectiveness of Chay is to a point that it becomes detrimental to his safety. After all, why hasn't Porsche taught Chay to defend himself, if they've had experience before of getting harassed in their own home?

It's through mental fortitude alone that Chay can perfectly match Kim, because there is no way for this boy to fight off Kim’s aggression in the way Porsche and Pete can with Kinn and Vegas respectively.

And before I go on, I don't think there's any need to argue that Kim would never show or point towards Chay so much aggression, not when he's already done it:

The only reason Kim let go of his hand in this scene so easily is because he was stunned by Chay's antagonism towards him (besides the fact that he was butthurt af when Chay outright calls him out). This scene, along with the scene before it and the bar fight scene, heavily hints at the sort of aggression that Kim is potentially capable of showing/pointing towards Chay. (I wonder what was the stage direction given to Jeff in this scene that Barcode had to yank his wrist back that hard, yknow?)

I'm pretty sure this was partly the point of this scene below; it begs the question of that unknown dimension between the two of them:

But getting back on point: Chay only has his mental fortitude to match Kim and reinforce his boundaries, but even then, it’s not completely foolproof; given enough time, Kim can find ways to disarm Chay, as we see in their final scene together.

And of course it goes without saying, there are moments in the show where it's very obvious Kim truly returns Chay's affections, even moved and inspired by him. But ultimately, even where the audience is left off in terms of where their relationship is at, Kim doesn't respect him—or rather, he doesn't respect the boundaries Chay has drawn in the sand between them.

If Kim had truly respected those boundaries, he would not have reached out the way he did. He would not have reached out with an unknown number, in order to bait Chay into clicking that video link. He would not have used Chay's own song to re-write it into a love song for him.

Because for all of Chay's mental fortitude, in the end, even if Kim himself did not see Chay's reaction to the video, the end result he likely wanted came about: he found a way for Chay to pay attention to him again and more than that--hold that attention, because Chay doesn't delete the video.

Everything this final scene together entailed is arguably calculated on Kim's part. After all, nothing has changed: it happens against the backdrop of Kim's selfish motive. The motive has changed (from getting information on Porsche to getting Chay back/to forgive him), yes—but the nature of it hasn’t.

I think that's what makes Kimchay's relationship the most insidious of the three in my eyes, because despite everything they've been through so far, Kim still doesn't respect Chay's boundaries, not at this stage of their relationship, if ever. Besides that, Kim can and has found ways to counter Chay's strongest asset, to bring his guard down if you will.

And Chay has nothing else he can use against Kim to reinforce his boundaries, not fighting capability and certainly not distance, alas.

There is definitely a level of selfishness in Kim that surpasses the selfishness also inherent in Kinn and Vegas due to their upbringing, yknow?

It's why they hold my attention so much, I think: the sheer potential they have to become the most unhinged couple in this story, and how much I'm drawn to it like a moth a flame~

[alexxncl]

‼️NIGHTBRINGER DAILY CHAY SPOILERS‼️

masterlist | brothers' chats | dateables/side characters chats

:((((

gonna assume the the lightning strike or whatever just made him say all the things he wanted to say but was too prideful to do it

just like how lucifer's too prideful to admit that he probably damn near cried in his room after satan said that to him