#daughters enjoying some light fireworks

[kalitheinksimp]

Day 26 of inktober: fireworks

[rose-pearls]

Lost without you

I had an idea this morning and I wrote it until I realised that his had become quite long but hopefully you enjoy this!! Reader is Percy, Annabeth's and Grover's age and is Luke's sister. I am working on requests that I received and my requests are still open if you have any!

Summary: As Luke's sister you had only seen the best in him but as the identity of the lightning thief comes to light your whole world breaks down. (Brother!Luke & Sister!reader, Percy Jackson x reader)

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open)

Percy Jackson Taglist: @niktwazny303, @abbersreads (open)

The quest had been hard, harder than you could have ever imagined but in the end you did manage to complete it. The only thing you could hope was that Sally Jackson would be returned and that Percy would be able to see her once again. 

There was a weird atmosphere at camp, everyone was ready to celebrate when Percy came back but you couldn’t stop watching Clarisse. You had told your brother that she was the lightning thief and yet she was still here, parading around with her siblings.

“Stop watching her,”, you hear someone say softly and you turn around to find Luke smiling at you softly.

“Sorry, I just can’t help it,” you tell him, and he nods slowly before sitting down next to you.

“What is going through your mind?”, he asks after a few seconds of watching a few campers bringing the fireworks to the lake.

“It just seems too easy,” you whisper and Luke frowns at your words.

“What do you mean?”, he says, looking slightly worried but you just shake your head.

“The fact that Clarisse could be the lightening thief. It seems too easy, like someone is trying to make her the thief when she didn’t do it,” you tell him and as you turn to look at him you find a somber expression on his face, but there is some sort of sadness in his eyes that you just can’t place.

“But I’m probably spiraling, I didn’t get enough sleep,” you tell him, and Luke seems a little bit relieved at your words before throwing his arm around your shoulders and bringing you closer. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it. But right now, you just need to relax and enjoy the celebration. Just be a kid for one moment,”, he tells you with a soft smile, and you nod in agreement after letting out a sigh. 

“I missed you,” you say, and Luke’s smile turns sad for a moment before bringing you closer and dropping a kiss on your forehead, lingering as if this would be the last time in a long time, he would be doing this.

“Missed you too little sis,” he whispers, and you can’t help but smile at the words.

“Not so little anymore,” you tease him, and Luke lets out a laugh at your words.

“You will always be my little sister, you can’t escape it,” he tells you and you laugh softly at the words, a familiar warmth envelops you at the words. 

You hadn’t really known your father, after Luke had yelled at him, he had disappeared like thin air. The only family you had was your mother, Luke, Annabeth and once Thalia. But the list had grown over the past week, Percy and Grover becoming close friends, even if you couldn’t help but see Percy in a different light. He was handsome, every person at camp could tell you that but it was his personality that made you slowly fall for him, his unwavering loyalty and that true kindness. 

“Percy is back!”, Annabeth yells as she arrives and you quickly jump up at the words, making Luke look at you in surprise and Annabeth with a knowing smile. You blushed at the look the daughter of Athena gave you, the both of you had talked about your little crush once you had gone back to camp. The first night back you couldn’t sleep, and it seemed as if Annabeth couldn’t either because the two of you found yourself at the lake, whispering about everything you could think of.

The clapping and cheering of the campers brought you back from your daydream and Annabeth took you by the hand to see where Percy was, Luke following close behind. There he was, looking surprised at the cheering, but still moving forward and you had an urge to go and hug him but as you felt Luke presence behind you, you felt unsure, until Annabeth pushed you slightly forward.

Percy seemed relieved at the sight of you, but you told yourself it was because he could also see Annabeth behind you. The cheers seemed to get louder as you brought him into a hug, his arms quickly wrapping themselves around you, holding you close. There was that familiar smell of the ocean, that always seemed to cling to him.

“Do you see her?”, you can’t help but ask and you can feel Percy’s confusion until her whispers Clarisse’s name.

“What is she doing here?”, he whispers, and you shake your head.

“Not here, we’ll talk about it in the cabin,” you tell him and Percy nods as you slowly let go of him, not seeing the disappointed look that appears in Percy’s eyes. Annabeth joins the two of you and she quickly brings Percy into a quick hug. You turn to look at your brother, who has a somber expression on his face, his eyes hard but they soften at the sight of you watching him.

“Why is she still here?”, Percy asks as the four of you find yourself in the Hermes cabin, Luke had quickly joined you after you left the celebrations.

“Camp was a mess when you weren’t here, everyone was ready to fight each other. An accusation against Clarisse,”

“Without proof,” Annabeth adds, making Luke nod in agreement.

“Exactly, without proof, it would’ve lit this whole place on fire,” Luke tries to explain, and you nod in agreement, people had seemed tense when you had come back.

“Now you’re back, you saved the world by stopping the war,” a proud smile appears on your lips at Luke’s words and Percy somehow stands straighter, he had always looked up to Luke.

“It’s time to tell Chiron and clean up this whole mess. I told him that we wanted to meet him away from the celebration, so that no one could hear us, especially Clarisse supporters,” Luke explains further, and you can’t help but have a bad feeling, but you brushed it away, thinking that it was just the lack of sleep that made you paranoid. 

“I’ll keep an eye on Clarisse while you are gone,” Annabeth says and Luke nods in agreement.

“The both of you can do that,” Luke says while looking at you and you quickly agree.

“Of course,” you tell them, trying to smile reassuringly and it seems to work, only Percy looks at you with a worried gaze, but you ignore it.

“Great, then we will meet back here. Ready?”, Luke asks Percy and the boy nods, looking confident as the two of them leave towards the clearing.

--

Annabeth and you had been watching the Ares kids, Clarisse at the center of the circle, talking and laughing with her siblings.

“Annie, I have a bad feeling,” you whisper, and she looks at you in surprise, but there is something in her eyes that make you think she understands what you are saying.

“About Clarisse?”, she asks, and you nod slowly, trying to find the words to explain it all.

“Don’t worry, she won’t do anything to us and if she tries, we will be able to defend ourselves,” she says but you shake your head at her words.

“Clarisse being the one to steal the master bold is too easy, it’s like a trap to hide the real person behind it. I can’t stop thinking about it, but it just doesn’t make sense that she would steal it,” you explain and Annabeth seems to think for a moment, her eyes focused before she looks at you with wide eyes.

“Who could be the one that stole it?”, she asks, and you shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking that there is something wrong here,” you tell her, and she nods slowly.

“We need to find Luke and Percy, hopefully before they speak to Chiron,” she says and there is an urgency in her tone as she makes you stand up from your hiding place. 

The woods are quiet, the only sound resonating through it are the distant sounds of fireworks and cheers from the campers. You see Luke and Percy standing there but before you can go there, Annabeth stops you, a finger on her mouth to tell you to stay quiet.

“The reason Clarisse is still here is because you never said anything to Chiron. Did you?”, Percy says, and you feel breathless for a moment, Annabeth looks at you with equally worried eyes.

“You couldn’t. Because you knew that Clarisse didn’t steal the bolt. You did,” the words linger in the air, and you feel like you are suffocating on the words you just heard. You wait for Luke to say it isn’t true and that Percy got it all wrong.

“You worked with Ares to plant it on me, so when the shoes you gave me would pull me into Tartarus the bolt would be delivered to Kronos,” you feel sick at the words and Annabeth looks as devastated as you. You pray for this to all be just a dream, you even pray to your dad to wake you up from this nightmare.

“I didn’t think you would give them to Grover to wear,” Luke says, in a voice that you had never heard before and you want to throw up at the words. You still remember the deep fear that had gripped you when Grover started being pulled towards the large hole. Annabeth has tears in her eyes as you shake your head, your ears ringing as you hear Luke continue his speech. 

You knew that he hated the gods, for what they did to all of you, for what your father did to your mother. But you never thought he would do this, betray camp and follow Kronos.

“You are being manipulated by Kronos,” Percy tells him, and you desperately wait for Luke to realize his mistake. 

“No, he opened my eyes,” Luke says, and you don’t recognize the voice of your older brother.

The sound of swords hitting each other make you look up, holding Annabeth’s hand to try and reassure her and you at the same time.

“Our parents aren’t perfect, but they are trying. I met your dad,” Percy says and before you can even think of warning Percy about speaking of Hermes to Luke you hear the sound of swords clashing against each other. 

You want to get up and put an end to this, but Annabeth holds your hand tighter and shakes her head as you look at her.

“I need to help him,” you whisper, and she shakes her head, sadness in her eyes.

“Who? Luke or Percy?”, she asks, and you feel like the world has shattered around you.

“Percy,” you whisper, and she nods in agreement, but she looks pained at the words. You don’t realize tears are streaming down your face until a tear falls on your hand, making you look at a teary-eyed Annabeth.

“I’m sorry,” you hear Percy say and you lift your head up just in time to see Luke slice open Percy’s arm, making you feel sick. 

Your dagger flies quickly through the air, making both boys look at you. Luke seems pained at the sight of you, like you are piercing your dagger through his chest, like you were the one betraying him.

He whispers your name; sadness covers his words and for a moment you wonder if this is your big brother again. The one who had helped you through the nightmares, who had protected you from every monster you had ever seen.

“This is not what it looks like,” he says, his tone now pleading but you shake your head.

“I heard everything Luke,” you tell him, your voice breaking over the words and Annabeth appears next to you, making Luke look even more pained.

“You made us all turn against an innocent person, when you were the one who had stolen the bolt,” you tell him, and he tries to speak but you shake your head.

“Don’t try to tell me you can explain this, because even if you did it would always come back to the fact that you were the one who did it,” you tell him, and Luke has tears in his eyes at your words.

“I did this for us, to stop the Gods from being able to do whatever they wanted with us,” he tries to say but you scoff at the words.

“You did this for yourself!”, you scream, feeling like someone is killing you from the inside.

“Don’t come here and tell us that you did this for us when you nearly send us all to our deaths with your plan,” Luke closes his eyes at your words, his hand wrapped tightly around his sword.

“Don’t do this, don’t go through with this,” you plead, trying to make him understand that there is still another way.

“I have to, I won’t go back to just doing whatever the Gods want us to do,” he says, in a voice that is so cold that you feel lost.

“But you can join me, we can escape this all and go make a better world. You and me, like old times,” Luke says, and you feel tears falling down your cheeks as Luke gets closer to you, there is a softness in his eyes that always came when talking to you.

You don’t know what to say, you don’t want to lose your big brother, not when you practically lose your mother every time you see her. There is a soft whisper of your name, and you turn to see Percy looking at you with pleading eyes, he is holding his arm, where he had been hit by Luke.

“I can’t, I can’t join you,” you say to Luke, and it is perhaps the hardest thing you ever had to say to your brother. But watching his emotions change before your eyes from a soft look to pure rage made it all worse.

“So, you are choosing him, a guy you haven’t known for more than two weeks over your brother?”, there is sarcasm dripping over his words but the anger radiating from him makes you take a step back.

“I don’t want to Luke, but you give me no choice,” you tell him, hoping that your bother will come back to his senses, but he lets out a cold laugh that makes you shiver.

Percy quickly comes in front of you, putting you behind him to make sure you are safe, and Riptide is in his hand. His other hand is still holding you behind him and you look at Annabeth who takes out her own dagger and points it at Luke.

Your brother looks pained at the sight of his other sister turning against him and for a moment you think that he will be fighting the two of them before he runs and disappears into the portal. You look at it, watching the light from the sign he had carved disappearing, and you feel lost, like you had just lost a part of yourself.

“I’m sorry,” Percy says, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes, he looks sad, and you could understand why, the man he had looked up to turned out to be the bad guy all along.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you tell him before turning to look at Annabeth who has finally let the tears fall down her cheeks.

“I’m sorry Annie,” you tell her before bringing her into a tight hug, the girl holds you just as tight and the two of you stay like that for a moment, trying to put yourselves together again.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispers, and you just squeeze her in response before letting her go and wiping away the tears that had fallen on your cheeks.

Percy has an awkward smile as you turn back to him, but you just step towards him, taking his arm in your hand and looking at the wound in worry.

“You should have this checked out after we talk to Chiron,” you tell him as you brush the skin just under it, but as the boy doesn’t answer you look up to find him looking at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks.

“I will,” he says after clearing his throat and you nod slowly, feeling a blush appearing on your cheeks as you realize you had been holding his arms for a moment.

“Right, sorry,” you say, and you take your hand away, but Percy takes your hand in his. He looks away as you look at him in surprise, but you hold his hand tighter.

“Thought you might want some reassurance after what happened and didn’t want you to get lost in the woods,” he says, and you glare at the boy as his eyes light up in mischief.

“You ass, I got lost one time and you weren’t even here!”, you say but your words aren’t heard as Annabeth and Percy start laughing.

“Common seaweed brain, we should get you some water to heal that wound,” Annabeth says and Percy nods in agreement before following her towards the lake, his hand still holding yours as if he was scared you would disappear. 

You turn to look at the portal one last time, wondering if Luke would suddenly appear again and tell you that it was all a misunderstanding. But it stays void, making you turn back towards your friends and join the conversation.

--

“What does she think of it all?”, you hear Percy ask and both Annabeth and you turn to find him standing there with a smile.

“It’s a tree seaweed brain, it doesn’t talk,” she says with an eyeroll but there is a fond smile on her lips.

“But I’m sure she would be thrilled about it,” you tell Annabeth, making the girl smile as you join her and Percy.

“What are you going to do with your dad?”, the boy asks, and you turn to look at Annabeth with a smile.

“He wants to go to New York, so I’ll pretend I haven’t been there. And then he wants to take me to someplace called Disneyworld. It sounds a little like Waterland but less dangerous,” she says, looking slightly unsure and you can’t stop yourself from smiling even wider. 

“Or did I understand that wrong? You better tell me what I’m walking in to!”, she says looking scared, but you just laugh in response.

“Just be a kid,” Percy says, and you feel your throat close up at the words. Luke had said the same words to you before everything went downhill, and now you were going home alone.

“Guys!”, you hear Grover yell and you all cheer as he arrives.

“Did you get it?”, you quickly ask, and he carefully removes his jacket to show a beautiful green flower.

“I can officially start to search for Pan!”, he says, and you all congratulate him.

“Everyone always looked on the ground and land, but no one has ever searched the oceans so I think I will start there,” Grover says, and you can’t help but feel excited for your friend.

“If you ever need help, I know some people under there,” Percy says with a cheeky smile, and you roll your eyes at his words.

“Before we go, we need to promise each other that we will all be here together again next year, the four of us,” Percy says and the three of you nod in response.

“We will all be there,” you say and Percy smiles softly at you.

“Come here!”, Grover yells before bringing the four of you into a hug and you close your eyes as you wrap your arms around your friends, holding them as tight as you can before you have to let them go.

“Enjoy New York and Disneyworld Annie and Grover good luck for your quest!”, you tell them and the two of them look excited at the prospect before Annabeth takes you by the hand, a bit further away.

“Good luck with your mother, if you ever need me, you know I’m always available,” she says, and you nod in agreement.

“Don’t worry, enjoy the time you have with your father! I’ll be just fine, I won’t be the only one in New York now,” you tell her, and she has a dangerous smile on her lips as her eyes light up in mischief.

“That’s right, you will be able to spend all seventh grade with Percy,” you hit her in the arm at her wink and you can’t help but blush as she laughs.

“Nothing will happen,” you tell her, and she looks unimpressed before humming, an unimpressed look in her eyes.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” she says before joining the others making you shake your head. 

“See you all in a few months?”, you ask and Grover and Annabeth nod before leaving Percy and you next to Thalia’s tree.

“Are you sure you will be alright going alone?”, Percy asks, and you look at him with a fond smile.

“I will be just fine, go and find your mother, I’m sure she is waiting for you,” you tell him and there is a hopeful smile that appears on his lips.

“Tell me when you get there? I’ll keep you updated when we come back,” he says, and a blush appears on your cheeks at the words, but you nod quickly.

“I’ll tell you, better not leave me waiting too long Jackson or I’ll go to Coney Island without you,” you tell him in a teasing tone, but you know that you would wait for him.

“Don’t worry I’ll be there,” he says with a voice that leaves no doubt in your mind and before you can tell him goodbye, he brings you into a hug, holding you close in his arms.

“See you in a week?”, he whispers, and you nod against his shoulder, holding him tight even if you knew you were going to see him soon.

“See you in a week, don’t be stranger,” you tell him before leaving his embrace and taking your luggage. 

--

Your mother is in the kitchen, the smell of cookies surrounds the living room, and you take a moment to take it all in. This would be the first of many times you would be coming back alone to your apartment. 

There are countless boxes filled with cookies, as if she had to feed two teenagers and not one. Because she would never know that her son would never come back, too far for her to ever reach again.

“Hi mom,” you whisper, trying not to let the tear fall as memories of Luke and you come back.

“Oh, my darling, you are back!”, she says, her eyes lightening up in excitement as she brings you into a tender hug.

“So sad that your brother couldn’t leave camp, but he always did love to be there,” she says, and you hold her close, letting her believe that the tears that are falling down your cheeks are from seeing her again after such a long time. Not because you had lied to her about your brother staying at camp for the year, and the fact that she wouldn’t be seeing him again.

“Why don’t you go take a shower and then we can eat something and talk! You have already grown so much!”, she says as she pushes you into the bathroom while talking about everything that you will be talking about later on.

The week passes by with her stuffing you with cookies and stories about her friends and family and before you know it a curly haired boy has come back to New York.

“You can give him some cookies!”, your mother says before shoving you a large box of cookies.

“Are these blue?”, you ask her, unable not to feel surprised as you see them, and she has a knowing smile on her lips.

“You told me he liked blue food, and I need to make a good impression on the boy who captured your heart,” she says with a teasing smile, and you groan at the words, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I am leaving!”, you tell her, and you can hear her laughter ringing thought the hallway, making you smile.

Percy is standing there, leaning against the car in front of the building.

“Please tell me you aren’t driving that car,” you say in teasing tone and Percy rolls his eyes at the words.

“Verry funny, but no we are going with the metro if that is alright with you?”, he says, and you nod in agreement your smile wide as you take in what changed in the last few days. He had gotten even taller if that was possible.

“What are those?”, he asks, and you look at the box in your hands before giving the cookies to him.

“My mother made them for you, apparently you are her new favorite,” you tell him, and a shy smile appears on his lips as he opens the box and sees the cookies.

“They are blue?”, he says, looking surprised at the sight of them and you feel shy as he looks at you.

“Seems like she listened to me when I was talking about you and the rest of the group of course,” you tell him, feeling embarrassed at what he could be thinking right now.

“Of course,” he says with a smirk, and you feel slightly confused before he takes your hand in his, making you look up at him.

“Is this alright?”, he asks, his shy eyes looking into yours.

“Completely alright,” you tell him, making a wide smile appear on his lips.

“Common we need to take the metro to get to our date!”, Percy says, and it takes you a moment to process the words.

“Wait, date?”

[incidentallysunny]

Through The Skin

Real Uncle!Leon

Dead dove warning.

7k word count. Proof read lightly. Critique is welcomed and my skin is thick for it.

I'd like to appear in the tagz pls so here's a warning. My writing is not ever meant to be taken literally and is just for the sake of writing fxcked up content that I enjoy writing. If you do not wish to read this, please do not as my intentions are not to offend or make you intentionally uncomfortable but if you choose to read- don't be hateful. With that out of the way, extremely sensitive content and dead dove material ahead.

Specifically blood-related incest, smut, suicidal ideation, mentions of grotesque imagery, light mentions of gore in a hypothetical scenario, age-gap, overall just some disturbing topics.

As far as smut specifically: this includes talking of public sex, public female oral-recieving, Leon has dick piercings surprise, make and female oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cream-pie (wrap your willy irl pls) praise, dirty talk, spitting, any probably some other irrelevant shit I'm forgetting my bad.

PROCEED if you read the above, are okay with it, and are mentally unwell like I am. Happy reading, it's a long one.

To be quite frank, you didn’t give a shit about a single holiday party that your parents threw. Having to hug and touch on people you didn’t even know, putting on a fake smile and pretending as if you remembered them at all. Exhausting for a young woman to keep up this charade for so long. You’re sure your relatives noticed the dying spark in your eyes over time. Living Growing does that to a person. You spent all night fetching beers and other pre-packaged, alcoholic drinks- hoping he would show up every time you had to hand one out. Still one less face you’re can be enthralled to see.

You sat at the dining table, leaned onto an elbow with your face in your palm. Clearly a dejected and annoyed pose but everyone here was too cheery or already deep in the ‘special occasion’ wine bottle to even piece that together. Your other hand traced the ringed patterns in the wood surface, wondering how old it had been before it was chopped down ruthlessly by some hot guy with a chainsaw who was getting paid way too much to be fucking up nature left and right. All so that some college-aged girl could sit at the furniture it had been made into and sulk. God, an almost 40 year old tree. That’s pretty fucking old. You’re glad it lived a somewhat long life (in human years, not tree years.) ‘Cause some trees live a few hundred or even thousand years. So maybe it was taken too soon before it became the placeholder for your familial drunken talks. While you were distracted, annoyed, and pitying yourself, the table all erupted into ‘Hey, long time no see!’s , laughter, and other delightful sentiments that were jolly and deafening enough to make you jump. Loud noises weren’t your thing.

Before you could regain your composure and turn your torso in the hand-carved, deep-brown varnished chair- a hand graced the presence of your slumped shoulder.

“Hey, babydoll. Long time no see.” The voice greeted, husky and rough like a patch of concrete you’ve definitely scraped your knee on a time or two. Basically, it was familiar, which is what you’re getting at.

Uncle Leon.

You turned your full body now, swinging your legs to the side of the seat- a few laughs slopped from the table.

Everyone knew how much you loved and fawned over your Uncle- your dad rivaling how much you seemed to prefer his brother over him. Well duh, dad. It’s because he’s fun and you’re a hard-ass. And ugly to look at. Your poor, poor mom.

It had been years since you saw your uncle. Since you were freshly 18, to be exact. Your dad wasn’t too keen on having him around his barely-legal daughter- probably because he could practically smell it on you that you want your uncle to pop your cherry. You still remembered his few quirks, too. He was always sloppy yet casually drunk wherever he was, he hated fireworks (due to PTSD as your dad explained), and he had always been known to be grabby with people- probably because of the alcohol. He was a weird guy, but you loved him all the same. It broke the normalcy of your home and made things interesting to be around him. However- none of this was the focus. His stubble, dark-liquored bags under his eyes that almost resemble eyeliner, and dark-tinted hair were. And god, his chin. Could be a replacement for a Sybian, if you had one. All of that aside, he looks sexy. That’s so fucking weird to say about your dad’s brother, but calling it weird is also so outdated. Fucking your hot, middle-aged uncle is in; getting a boyfriend your age is out.

You stood up swiftly, hugging him tightly around the waist and almost toppling him. He chuckled, steadying himself with one arm around your back and the other on the table to catch himself. Once he felt he was steady enough, the other arm joined around you- the embrace squeezing you like a stress ball. You worried that your eyes might be a little more loose in your skull than before.

“Gotta be careful, kiddo. You’re gonna take down your uncle one of these days.” He teases, moving out of the hug and letting his hands explore their way down your back- resting on the small of it. Digits perched like a bird where your back starts to curve into your ass- not sweetly or gentle- but like one of those huge-taloned hawks that would rip your flesh off. You only say that because his hands are big and rough- and you’ve heard stories of what your uncle does for work (plus the alcohol is making him need to stabilize himself so he doesn’t crash you both into the nearby counter and cause any serious brain injury. At least then you could excuse the bubbling of strange feelings as TBI). Oh, and with how handsy he was known to be (Just ask your Aunt Claire on your mom’s side). But he had never been that way with you- not until now.

You see your dad eyeing him like the same kind of big-taloned hawk from across the table. They’re cut from the same feathers- except your dad must have been the one that never learned to fly. Pushed out of the nest by a sharp shove of a beak and bit every branch of the ugly tree on the way down. Cause he’s a lot weaker and uglier than your uncle. How he pulled your mom is a miracle and a mystery.

“Hey, uh. Honey. Come sit back down. No need in playing into your uncle’s fashionably late, drunken stupor.” He quips towards you while grilling Leon about being late, nursing his own drink with that ugly grin. You roll your eyes. Leon removes his hands from you- putting them up in defense of himself and leaving your back with an empty feeling.

“Hey, hey. Just hugging my beautiful niece.” He turned to address you again. “Been years since I’ve seen you, sweetheart. Look even better than your momma.” You feel a blush creep up at Leon’s words, but your dad clears his throat and your mom pays him no mind. Just an eye roll and sip of a wine cooler. To be honest, even she probably fucked your uncle. You couldn’t blame her if she did.

You huff and sit back down, crossing your arms. Your dad always had to ruin everything. If you fuck your uncle or kiss him or whatever and don’t like it, you can just go to therapy. Leon snickered behind you, patting your shoulder before leaning in next to your ear.

“Come join me out on the deck in a bit. I’m sure you’re tired of being smothered in here with the fun police.”

You feel muggy from his words. Like a Louisiana swamp type muggy. Is your hair sticking to you? Are there zika-virus bearing mosquitos pricking you or is that just undiagnosed anxiety?

You bounce your leg under the table while you hear the sliding door open and close in the distance. Minutes pass of you twiddling your thumbs- and you excuse yourself to sneak off- exiting out the same heavy sliding door that Leon used.

When you sealed it behind you- the smell of whiskey filled your nostrils- sizzling off any hairs that your nose so proudly grew for much needed germ-protection. A hand slapped itself gracelessly onto the glass above you in the dark, trapping you in place. Predictable uncle.

“Shit, sorry sweetheart. Lost my footing. Y’know how it is. I’m always taking spills here and there.” You felt giddy and blistered all over, speaking back to him.

“S’okay. Sorry about dad.” You excused, breathing in. Leon’s other hand patted you low on your hip as he chuckled into your ear- sending off more whiskey breath.

“It’s okay, sweet thing. Your dad can be that way. I’m not exactly safe to be around in his eyes. Besides, he’s just doing his job- looking out for his little girl.” He explains, not making any efforts to move. You predicted this- but it wasn’t unwelcome.

“Why’s that?” You dare to ask, sounding purposefully puzzled- but Leon knows better. And you know the answer.

“It’s ‘cause your Uncle likes ‘em young and pretty.” He mulls the information over you, the words sliding down you like a vibration that sets off a perfect sensation to your already throbbing clit. Because you’re always horny. The hand on your hip now kneads your ass under your skirt- somehow getting there without notice.

“O-oh.” You choke on the word like it’s quicksand in your throat- but only the quicksand is the prospect of having your uncle plow you until you develop early onset dementiaSo really, the quicksand isn’t bad in this instance. You jump into it face first for a good mouthful.

“Shouldn’t be wearing something so short when you know your dirty old uncle is coming over. Can’t keep my eyes where they’re supposed t’be.” He mutters low, leaning down to tickle the shell of your ear with his voice.

“Knew you were coming over. I wanted to look pretty for you.” Saying it makes your head spin, but like in the good way. The sound Leon makes is between a groan that says ‘good god, I’m going to bury my cock inside you right the fuck now’ and ‘I figured as much’. A simple cocktail of horniness and knowing.

“Mm, just want to kiss you everywhere, you know? Love it how sweet you are.” He murmurs into your scented hair, using the hand from the wall to push aside any strands that are in his way. He kisses the back of your neck and his breath scorches your skin. The affection is sloppy and leaves small bits of saliva behind, his barely-darting-out tongue making you ache even more.

“U-uncle.” You shuddered, a slight protest to your voice. Not ‘cause you don’t like it but because you’re worried someone will see. Or that you’ll never want off of his dick. He can be your personal IUD, all buried in your cervix.

Leon ignored the shared thought that someone could see because the way you referred to him made his dick jump in his jeans. Plus, the whole family knows he’s a sleeze. They’d see him balls deep in you and say ‘Ah, that’s Leon for you’ And look the other way until his next sexual prospect. One of the many reasons that Aunt Claire doesn't visit and Aunt Ada divorced his ass. Her loss. You’d happily share him if it were you. It’s only right to share a man that looks like a washed-up pornstar. His dick is great too. Not ‘cause you’re guessing- but because you saw it one time. Last time you saw him actually- the whole incident that left you wanting to see him again oh-so-badly. He had stumbled in the bathroom to piss- ignoring you at the sink. It’s whatever, he was totally wasted and probably didn’t see you. Nor did he probably see the fact you were gawking at his big dick. Or his nice ass, cause he had let his pants drop completely in his hazy state.

“Mm, what is it, babydoll? Hey- Think anyone’d notice if I fingered this sweet little pussy right now?” His voice cut through your memory and thick, long fingers teased the swell of your pussy lips through your underwear, making your hips contract with excitement. Your breath fans over the glass and smogs it.

“I don’t know- maybe.” You huff, trying to keep your composure. It sure is fucking hard when God’s gift to women is about to finger-fuck you at your parent’s house with 20 or so family members inside the property. You second guess yourself now. Maybe God's gift to women doesn’t go around playing with a pussy that belongs to their niece. Or maybe God was fed up with some girls missing out so he created sexually-attractive uncle’s to even any scores. You’ll be attending church this upcoming Sunday. Not because you’re going to follow through with blood-related fornication but because you want to thank the higher-ups properly for this fine piece of ass you’re about to receive from. Or maybe you shouldn’t step foot there, the whole ‘bursting into flames for egregious sinning’ type thing. Wait a minute- there’s literally daddy-daughter incest in the Book of Genesis, so you’ll happily sin away and tell god to fuck off while doing it. Okay maybe that’s a little uncalled for.

Leon tugged your panties to the side, breathing shakily.

“Fuck. I gotta see it, baby.” He mumbles, dropping to one knee with the other bent and still supporting the front of him. Underwear aside, he uses his hands to spread you out- taking in the sight of your damp folds. Damp is putting it lightly. His thumb collects some of your slick and he nearly cums right there.

“You save your first time for me?” He questions. In his mind, you’ve already had a dick or two. He can work with that. Those little guys your age don’t match up to him, but he’s blindsided when you whine about being a virgin, begging him to stick it in or something. Now, Leon’s not the greatest guy morally. At all. But if he’s going to pop your pussy like a soda cap for the first time, he’s going to do it in private cause he’s not stopping for anything. And privacy allows just that. Again- it’s not about it being special, just private. He’ll turn you out good and well.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wanna fuck this needy hole when it’s just us. Think you can wait?” He asks, before darting his tongue out to taste you and lapping up any of you that’s continuously dripping out from pent-up arousal. Your knees almost buckle and he puts his hands under the curve of your ass to hold you still. Your brain goes so mushy you almost forgot to respond.

“Y-yes, uncle Leon.” You whine like a pathetic puppy- begging for something that it didn’t need. But actually, you did need your uncle’s dick so badly. He laughs against your cunt, seemingly happy with that answer. Before you can properly nut like you want, you see your dad pass by in the distance of the sliding door. You tap the glass gently to alert Leon with a small series of clicks. He shoots his head up, yanking your panties back into place and using the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe his mouth.

“Fuck- always such a blue-balling asshole for anyone, I swear. Sorry, pretty girl.” He smooths down your hair, making sure you look presentable. Well- besides your face that’s red enough to be used as a lit flare.

“Go inside. I’m sure he’s looking for you, babydoll.” He grabs you drunkenly by the upper arm, pulling you in to kiss you on the cheek.

“Come by mine sometime. I’ll be home, for once.” He mutters the last part, loosening his hold on you and starting down the steps of the deck.

“Okay. I’ll see you later, Uncle Leon.” You sound so disappointed and miserable. Pouty. Leon gets it.

“Later, babydoll.”

He heads down the path of the backyard and through the connecting gate that leads to the driveway, the sound of his motorcycle’s engine revving is the cue that he’s definitely headed off.

You let yourself back in, acting inconspicuous. But your dad is already waiting with crossed arms. Yuck.

“Did I not tell you several times about hanging around your uncle. He’s a weird guy. I don’t mind him coming over but, god.” He lays into you, mostly just insulting his brother. You roll your eyes as you normally do. You’ve never not had an attitude with your father. He was born to be shit on in your eyes- barely deserved your mom, as is. Besides, He had no backbone whatsoever.

“Just go upstairs.” He asked, cause he never told you to do anything. Just asked and hoped you’d listen. You were pleased enough to have gotten as much as your uncle tonguing your cunt, so you can comply a bit longer. You go upstairs to your room, shutting the door and lying down.

—

It’s a week later when you finally get to see your uncle. You managed to convince your dad to let you borrow his car, ‘cause you’re a broke college student and can’t afford that right now. Plus you’re spoiled but not enough for a car, apparently. Whoops. Probably because your dad knows as soon as he signs the papers, you’re going to drive to his brother’s house and impale yourself on his dick for life. He’d rather you go to college and get a train ran on you or something, at least.

You hoped you had remembered the right place at first, until Leon’s motorcycle was spotted in the lot. Good, he’s home. You still questioned your memory as you were walking up the flights of stairs in the apartment building, tugging down the back of your skirt when you felt it was airing out your ass too much (for any passerbys, not Leon). After reaching the 12th floor and navigating the scarily clean hallway (the few decorations in the area made it less horror-esque), you found the right (?) door. Your knock was soft because again, you weren’t entirely sure. Just going off of childhood memories.

After hearing a shuffle inside, it didn’t take long for it to swing open, Leon standing in the doorway shirtless with a pair of grey, thin sweatpants loose on his hipbones. His v-line was saying hello to you. Hello to you, too.

“Pretty girl! Hey! Thought you’d never come by. Sorry about the attire- been having a lazy day since I’m off work.” He moved aside for you to come in, the door shutting behind you when you accepted the unspoken invitation. His place was nice. A little cluttered with a half-packed suitcase; clothes messily thrown on top and some paperwork and a passport in a heap on the desk nearby, but still nice. Not to mention spacious. Thank god.

“It’s okay, really. You deserve some relaxation time, you know?” You try to be cool and collected- not getting to the main point of your visit. Even if you did have genuine interest in your uncle as a person.

“Isn’t that the truth? Want a drink?” He asked, already walking towards his kitchen. You don’t immediately reply because the sway of his ass is… something else, but you manage to snap yourself from the hypnotizing gaze of it. He’s got a whiskey glass and bottle already on the counter, waiting for a reply.

“Sure.” You tell him, knowing damn well you can’t handle your alcohol. You get all fucking lovey and touchy, and you’ve only drank like 3 times. And sure. You did come here to fuck him, but you were nervous. Okay, never mind. That gives a complete need for liquid courage.

He makes his way to the hallway- switching something on the AC control before sitting on the couch, adjacent from the chair you’re nestled in. You’re taking small sips of the whiskey, burning your throat, sinuses, and any nervousness down like a forest fire. Leon just sits, legs splayed apart like how men always sit. Except you can see his fat-ass dick print. God, kill me now. Or after I’ve sucked it, at least. You see, too, what looks like indents in the fabric- piercings maybe? Or the folds of the pants are sitting weird.

“Did you find the place okay?” He asks, coming off like he cares- which he does- but he’s mostly waiting to get you and himself sloppy for fucking so he’s just stalling now.

You nod, bottom lip tucked into your mouth- if you talk it’s going to be about his dick being huge or his dick being inside you. Leon allows you another deep sip, finishing off the liquid completely.

“I actually remembered how to get here just about perfectly.” You spoke, laughing a little. Yeah, you’d be gone completely in a few minutes. You already felt yourself slipping into a hazy, bubbly state. Leon could tell, too. Good for him. He loved when the girl was sloppier than the pussy attached to her.

“Smart girl. Always have been.” He took a long, heavy drink- finishing off his glass. You watched how his stomach twitched or moved even the slightest when he adjusted himself, the same with his arms. He was muscular yet lean- like he didn’t eat enough some days. Figures. Beauty isn’t easy and he looked good, and maybe that’s why he got plastered all the time so easily. No appetite=no tolerance. However, you were most certainly not afraid to look at the hard work. Even more so with alcohol brewing in your stomach acid and then liver.

Leon patted his leg, fingers drumming on the material of his sweatpants.

“Come sit. You can tell me more about it on your uncle’s lap.” Gross. Gross in the hot way. The gross-hot way you want him to fold and twist you like a pretzel. So no, you don’t abhor the idea of sitting in his lap.

You don’t even hesitate, standing and nearly falling over- realizing you forgot how wobbly your legs could get while inebriated. Leon reached forward to grab your hand and waist, letting you fall directly onto his lap, ass to crotch. Like a puzzle piece. An incestual puzzle piece- which ideally shouldn’t fit together but it just does.

You feel his cock twitch under you; he’s anticipated this, obviously. His hands slid up your thighs, and down again, then back up- like he’s appreciating them.

“Got the prettiest legs, baby. Want them on your uncle’s shoulders, don’t you?” He cooed, scooting you to the edge of his lap just enough to get his cock out of his bottoms. You turn to look behind you, twisting yourself a bit to get a look at it. Christ. One, he was big. The kind of dick that couldn’t stand ‘cause it was heavy and long. Two. It had a few piercings down the front of his shaft, gleaming in the light. So not only were you about to take your first dick, but a pierced one (like you had suspected). Okay…you didn’t remember seeing those the only other time you ever saw his dick by accident. New additions.

Leon stroked your hair with the hand that wasn’t holding his dick.

“Trust me, feels a lot better than it looks. I promise it doesn’t hurt. Even for virgins.” He adds, like he knows that for a fact. “Nothing you can’t handle for me.”

Okay, he’s right. You’d take his fist if it meant his approval, honestly. How bad could it be?

You move to spin yourself around on his lap, Leon’s amused at your eagerness. He holds his cock, spitting down onto it so he can stroke himself while he puts a hand onto your neck. You’re pulled by the hold into a slow, messy, spitty kiss. He’s definitely experienced, as you are not. His tongue makes its way against yours like he’s silently teaching you how to kiss him open mouthed. Not so hard, you think. He groans into your mouth as he handles himself, maneuvering his cock to brush against your underwear; prodding your clothed clit under your skirt.

You mewl against his lips which only spurs him to kiss you a little more rough now, assuming you’re ready for it. Which you definitely don’t mind. His hand squeezes the side of your neck affectionately, a thumb tracing the skin. You’re thankful you’re in his lap because your knees are weak and your head feels dizzy. It was an exchange of sighs and heavy breathing- no distance. Your hands tangled into his dark locks which is something that Leon loved; having his hair pulled (you could tell by his lusty growl and the shift of his hips). He truly was the epitome of a kinky, dirty old man. If pushing 40 was old. Well, to be fair, you did call the dead tree of a table at your parent’s house old, ‘cause it was 40.

He pulled off of you, your now un-joined mouths drippy with saliva.

“Get in between your Uncle’s legs. Wanna see that pretty mouth on this cock.” He urged, and you found yourself with your calves folded under you in between his parted thighs. He held his cock proudly, and to be honest, the piercings look daunting. How did you even expect yourself to suck on it like you’ve seen in porn? Maybe you should have spent more time watching guys with pierced dicks instead of the step category. You had a preference, clearly.

You snaked your hands up to him, holding his cock with a puzzled look clear on your face. Leon laughed, not like he was laughing at you but the way you laugh at someone when you think what they’re doing is cute.

“Don’t worry about them too much, gorgeous. Just do it how you think you would normally. But pay careful attention with your tongue. Won’t hurt me any, promise.” He reassures you thoroughly, chuckling through a sexually intense gaze. Okay, it seems…. easy enough. Didn’t know dirty old uncles could be so sweet about having their dick sucked.

You lean forward, Leon guiding the head to your mouth.

“Just go slow and focus on the tip. Don’t want my girl to be uncomfortable, now do I?” His girl? You liked the sound of that. Enjoyed it very much. You’d be his girl wherever and whenever. You took him past your lips- suckling on the tip softly and swirling your tongue around it.

“Just like that- fuck- you’re doing great, babydoll.”

The praise edged you on, and you managed enough confidence to glide your tongue down his shaft and over the piercings- flicking over them pornographically. You felt like it was just right. If fucking your uncle could be right in any way of the sense. Leon groaned and his head fell back onto the couch. A large hand found its way to your hair, holding it into a makeshift ponytail. You discovered that it wasn’t too daunting- it was possible to bob your head a little while keeping your tongue exploring the piercings in small swirls and flicks. Just makes your jaw a little tired faster. Besides, seems less scary than taking it inside you.

It’s an alternation of the previous movements and kitten licking up the front of him, and the adornments on his skin only seem to make everything feel much more stimulating. His breath deepens and he guides you now with your hair in hand- looking down at you through deep-brown bangs.

“Fuck- that’s it. Just look at you, dirty little niece I’ve got here, sucking her uncle’s cock like she was made for it. God- so damned pretty with your tongue on me.” His head falls back again for a moment, before he sits up- his labored panting evident.

“Christ. Okay- can’t take it anymore. C’mon, baby. Up.” He says, smacking your bottom when you stand in front of him. You’re feeling a bit ‘five seconds away from crashing into the coffee table and impaling yourself on the broken wood’ type of drunk now.

“Uncle Leon’s gonna pop that cherry, got it? Now sit down and let me lick that sweet pussy. Can still taste it after last time.” He’s speaking filthy things you should hear and run in the opposite direction from- but you don’t.

“My room. Remember where that is?” He mumbles, standing behind you now while he runs his hands down your sides- possessively grabbing at any fabric on you.

You shake your head no.

“Can’t remember. Need you to show me.” You whisper to him, putting your hands over his on your sides. He just muffles a laugh into the crook of your neck and shuffles you along in front of him, the two of you almost falling over multiple times on the way to his bedroom. You’re sure that something did get knocked off the wall at one point, but you literally do not care in any way.

Leon staggers you into the room and pushes you back onto the bed, shedding off his sweatpants. Naked, no boxers. Just full, thick cock and a trail of hair leading up to his belly-button that you haven’t let your eyes leave for however long you’ve been here. Oh, and muscled thighs. One of the greater parts of a man. His hands find their way to your thighs, tugging you to the edge of the bed before invading his thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

“Let’s get these off.” He grunts, pulling them down your legs and tossing them only for the undergarment to land in an unseen place. You go to tug off your skirt, until his hands pin yours to the bed.

“Want you to keep that on. Looks cute.” He says, retracting from you and sinking down at the edge of the bed. In no wasted time, his mouth is lazily lapping at your cunt- making your back bend in the reaction of immediate, overwhelming pleasure. You grabbed at the sheets until you remembered how his body responded when you pulled at his hair- so you found your hold there instead. Tugging his darkened strands with the pace he was eating you out at- stubble against your pussy and nose in your mound. His cheeks tickled your thighs, punching out a soft giggle and squirm from your body between the moaning. It makes him smile into you- reaching a hand up to knead your breast. Honestly, you hoped that the roof caved in right now and took you to your death because no moment would be better than this and that in itself made you suicidal.

You feel a finger slip past your hole, curling itself into that soft wall of fleshy, orgasmic sponge. The noise that left you was new, for sure and the muscle in his mouth jerked against your clit in tandem. It seemed Leon had the same deep feeling and worry you did about his dick even fitting, cause he added a second finger. Then tried to add a third but gave up because he actually wanted his dick to do that labor. He can be selfish, okay? It didn’t take long for you to cum either, duh. He was a skilled whore of a man and you’re a virgin. Or will be for only a few more minutes- probably less.

Your legs shake and tense, your heart thumps viciously, and your fingers threaten to tangle his hair into knots and make him start balding. Not happening no matter how hard you yank, though. His genes are too good for that. He was made for rough pulls to his mane. Made to take damage both mentally and physically. Made for splitting open cute, slutty nieces like you.

While you recovered, he licked his lips and fingers as clean as he could- missing the further parts of his stubbled cheeks. He stood up, hand on his lower back (‘cause duh, he’s old as dirt), and reached into the nightstand for a condom- which you gave him a look before he could open it. A look that told him ‘please, please, please don’t put it on! sure, fuck your blood-relative niece raw and possibly knock her up! Might not have to worry because you’re an alcoholic and your sperm quality is low, though.’ So fuck away.

He was a sucker for your big, glossy eyes and the slutty pout of your bottom lip. Not mentioning- he wouldn’t have worn a condom anyway. Would have just slipped it off before he stuck his dick in you. A virgin couldn’t tell the difference. What? You expected a man that fucks his own family to have morals for things lesser than that? No chance.

“Please, Uncle.” You begged softly, Leon knowing what you want without actually saying it. He’s great at reading people.

“Fucking hell. You’re something else. You want it that bad, huh?” He laughed, pleased by you beseeching him with so little words. You nodded, no objections about it. He tossed the unopened condom back in the drawer and shut it impatiently, making the lamp wobble.

“Changed my mind. Everything off. Gotta see that pretty set of tits.” The words were matter of fact and laced with a bit of erection-fueled urgency.

You reach your hands up to remove your shirt, then discard your bra and skirt. Left in the nude as naked as the day you were cut from your moms stomach. C-section baby and all that. Only this time there was no blood. Yet, anyways.

When you were stark naked, Leon pushed you firmly onto his bed again- folding you by the backs of your thighs, legs pressed to your chest and gifting your stomach with that cute roll thing it did. Leon liked that on a woman.

He grabbed his cock, positioning it against your slick that dribbled from your yet-to-be-abused hole. He was gonna change that. You could feel his one of the piercings resting against your skin down below- a tsunami of anxiety settling over your delicate village of a body.

“Might hurt a little, babydoll. Can’t promise I’m gonna be gentle with her.” He referred to your pussy, your hole fluttering when he talked. You gave a look of understanding and acknowledgement.

“God, want it so bad.” You whined under him, the position he had your legs in made you even crazier about having him in you, like, yesterday.

He didn’t savor the moment so that he could push into you, he just did it. The feeling of each piercing bumping your hole on the way in. It felt fucking good, but also his dick stretching you out was intense and stung like a papercut.

His hands held your thighs down into your stomach- giving you a novice contortionist experience, and you could see the veins in his forearm pop a little. Your mind raced with the following anxieties; ‘What if a piercing cuts my insides and I die from sepsis or something? What if a piercing ball comes off and is lost inside me forever? Maybe I should stretch more.’ The first two were irrational but maybe not so much so, or else you wouldn’t be thinking of them. You’re not the first woman to think any of it.

“Fuck- there we go. Shit. You feel incredible, baby.” He dropped the doll in favor of calling you baby this time, making you squeeze around him as he bottoms out, balls against your ass. Yep. A bruised cervix was in your future. Going to have to come up with an excuse for why you won’t be able to get out of bed for the next few days. You thought other girls were just exaggerating this whole time about feeling yourself be split open, what the hell was he trying to do? Dig out your uterus with his dick? Does he really have to be so deep? It’s, like, really hot and feels really fucking good, but also, slightly uncomfortable. Maybe it’s the position.

Either way, he’s feeding your ego.

You let your head relax onto the bed instead of continuing to hold it up, ‘cause doing that was much more painful.

“God.” You muttered, relieved to be full and get the virginity loss out of the way. You should be getting a cake and celebration for this, if it wasn’t your uncle. But still. Taking big, pierced dick deemed trophy worthy. Or maybe a plaque.

Leon gazed down at you through straight locks, shaking them out of his face a little. He pulled himself out, minus the tip, before pushing back in with a groan- his Adam’s Apple bobbing hypnotically. Your spine arched, lifting your back off the mattress and your hands dug into your own thighs, helping hold them in place.

“You like that, huh?” He asked, the difference between it being pure hormones and condescension was blurred. Could have been both. He doesn’t give that much of a timeframe to start dragging his cock in and out of you, slowly picking up speed and bottoming out each time- balls slapping against your bottom.

You babble nonsensically, the ribbed sensation of his piercings almost sending you into hysterics. Something about yes, yes. I love it. Need you to fuck me so hard that my dad disowns me because I’m wheelchair bound and he knows why.

“Feels good, baby. I know it. Bet it’s hitting places you didn’t even know you had.” If he wasn’t so fucking hot, you’d probably have the ick from how cocky he is. Or not, you’re fucked up.

He leaned forward over you more to tangle into your hair, guiding your head to more of an angle and exposing your neck. You were so overwhelmed from how hard and deep he’s fucking you, not to mention his dick feels like how you imagine a beginner level bad dragon dildo to feel. Or maybe a less monster-y version anyways. It just feels fucking good and that’s all you needed to care about. Soft, airy cries crawl their way from your throat and leave you between that and moaning. Uncle, please. Please, please, please, harder.

“Let it all out, that’s it. Uncle Leon’s gonna take good care of this pussy.”

You nod as much as you can with his hold on your hair, and he pants into your collarbone, sweaty and nasty on top of you. You feel like you’re almost being crushed under his weight but it’s only hotter, and gets even more when you feel his free hand slip between your damp bodies to thumb your aching and still-sensitive clit. You tighten around his cock in reaction- gasping.

“Take it, babydoll. Fuck. Show me how much you want your uncle to make you cum. Belong on my cock, you know it?”

Your brain is off somewhere in a hot air balloon, far from its preferred skull. Which is yours. He speaks in ways you didn’t imagine you’d ever get to be spoken to or even enjoy. But it’ll be the only thing that gets you off from now on, no doubt about it.

“Uh huh, belong on your dick forever. Never wanna take it out.” Yeah. You’re stupid for him.

“Fuck. That’s my girl. Keep talking like that and I’m not ever letting you go.”

You nod your head.

“Want that, want that so bad. ‘D let you fuck me whenever you want, uncle.”

His lips curl into a half-pressed grin before he’s panting again- a bead of sweat dripping onto him. You remember he did something with the AC. Yeah-to the heat in the apartment is frying you good and well. Guess he wanted the sex to be extra clammy and gross. You know, besides the incest.

“Christ. Fuck, yes.” He groans deep, throaty and carnal.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you. You’d be the prettiest little girlfriend. Sitting around waiting to get fucked all the time. I know how needy my baby is.” Christ. You’re going to the deepest abyss in hell. You’re sure whatever torment awaits is worth it though, so it’s not a big deal right now.

“Wanna be yours.” You choke, throat dry. Ah, you remember you’re intoxicated. That must be why you’re so loose at saying this stuff.

“Open up.” He huffs, almost face to face with you but still enough that his breath is hot on your features. You’re hasty to open your mouth like a whore, Leon dribbling his gathered spit down onto your tongue.

“Gotta keep you hydrated, baby. Can’t have that throat getting raw, can we?” You nod, there’s so many nasty things happening you can’t process it properly- unaware of everything as you cum a second time on his hand, squeezing his dick like a much softer and less dangerous guillotine.

His thrusts were a little more sloppy and erratic- alcohol fully set in for the both of you. Normally, he’d be able to hold off his orgasm a little longer- but combatting it wasn’t an option in this drunken state.

“Christ- so fucking pretty and tight when you cum on my dick. Gonna cum too, baby. Don’t think I can pull out right now.”

You shake your head no.

“Don’t pull out, please. Please uncle, ‘ll do whatever you want.”

He laughs brokenly, choked up from the moans that need to come out first.

“God, yes. Okay. Gonna fill this sweet pussy up, baby.”

He focuses a few more thrusts, hard enough to make it hurt a little and sloppy enough to still be just the right amount of perfect.

“Here it comes, baby. Need you to take i- shit.” He buried deep inside you as he came hard, rasped voice and all while he held his place firm. His hair is stuck to his face in some areas, his natural scent emanating off of the sweat droplets.

His dick spasms inside you, filling you with every bit of semen he’s got pent up in him. You could almost feel the way your cunt was full of his cum, having no room around his dick to go anywhere, really.

He relaxed a little, letting out a long, pleasurable groan. You yourself joined him in letting your body go limp as it could in this position. He grabbed your legs to straighten them out and let them wrap around his waist, making you realize they were folded too long and that they ache a bit.

He kissed your collarbone, picking up his head and kissing your cheek next.

“Mm. Did so great for me, babydoll. Not gonna be able to let you go now.” He teased, another peck to your mouth that you managed to reciprocate just in time.

“Then don’t.” You tell him, mumbling.

“I can manage that. Could easily be my girl. Would have to be our little secret, though.” He adds at the end, threading his fingers in your hair.

Yeah, you’re not turning down that offer.

[etchina-danjon]

Sakura. Gotta give her daughter a sibling!

“Hugh…”

This wasn’t what Sakura had planned for new years. Sarada was off with friends, so Sakura wanted to enjoy a bit of alone time to watch the festival fireworks. She picked a nice private spot, on a hill under a cherry blossom tree. Even went out of her way to dress up in a cute yukata.

But now, the yukata was spread open, her panties tossed to the side. Sakura’s laboring, heavily pregnant body on full display. She was so thankful no one was around to witness her in this state. Especially not her daughter. The baby wasn’t supposed to be due until next week! But instead, it decided new years would be the perfect time for it to emerge.

Admittable, Sakura had been dealing with painful cramps all day but she didn’t think she was actually in labor. The cramping reached a painful peak as she sat on the blanket she laid out for her to sit on. She was taken completely off guard when she felt the pop inside her. Fluid gushed out of her, soaking her panties, yukata, and blanket below her. The baby was coming. The baby was coming right here and now. There was no way Sakura could make it back down the hill to flag down help. She had no choice but to deliver her baby right where she was.

Sakura was squating on the blanket she laid out. Both of her hands were squeezing tightly a low hanging branch on the cherry blossom tree. She was sweating, raked with pain. Her stomach was so tight. The baby was hanging low, forcing her hip bones apart. 

The pressure inside her built up and Sakura had no choice but to listen to her body. As the contraction rippled through her body, she pushed down on the baby with all of her strength. Letting out a cry that was covered up by the firework show that just started. She felt the head spread her cervix apart. Slowly lowering into her birth canal. The squatting position helps the baby lower down quicker. She was so grateful to have the branch to grip on to. Sakura was trembling so bad, she doubted she’d be able to remain squating on her own.

Flashes of color light up the sky as people get ready to start counting down the new year. Everyone but Sakura who was focused on safely delivering her new year gift. 

“AGH!”

Sakura hunched over, letting out another cry as she pushed. Pain rippled through her body as the baby stretched out her insides as it lowered. She had forgotten how badly giving birth hurt. Tears rolled down her flushed cheeks. Despite how much she was in pain, she was eager to meet her new baby. A bit happy this was happening on such a special moment. 

Her little new year's baby.

The thought brought a small smile onto her lips as her body trembled. She took even, heavy breathes, remembering what to do from when she gave birth to Sarada. Sakura knew she just had to let her body take control. Things would come naturally. 

Her teeth clenched together as she pushed again, her slit starting to bulge outward from the weight of the head. A tiny peak of pink hair could be seen as her lips started to spread. With the next push, the pink lips of her slit spread open more and more, revealing the top of the baby’s head. Sakura could tell midnight was quickly approaching. And she desired for her baby to come out of her just as the clock hit twelve. 

Her brows pressed together as she focused hard on getting the baby out. Rocking her hips back and forth a bit to relieve some of the pain but nothing really worked. Especially when the head came to a wide crown. Splitting her completely open. The burn spread through her body making her weep. The next two pushes, the head barely moved, pushing forward, then sinking back in,

“C-come on… C-come on… M-mommy wants to see you. L-let’s face the new year together.”

Sakura pleaded with the baby. As if hearing her plea, with the next hard push, Sakura’s slit bulged more and more until the head finally burst free from her. The head came out with a rush of fluid. She let out a sharp gasp, shaking. Reaching down with both of her hands, she cupped and supported the head. Hearing the people below start the count down.

10… 9… 8…

So close!

“Hgnn….”

Sakura focused on hard pushes to get the baby out. The right shoulder popped free slowly, then the left one. Her heart was pounding with impatiens.

7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2…

Right before the countdown reached one, Sakura let out a loud cry as she gave a final push. The baby sliding free from her tight insides and into her hands.

1… Happy New Year!!

Sakura pulled the crying baby to her chest, falling back on her rear with heavy pants. They were both still connected by the cord. A smile spread across Sakura’s face as she looked down on the cute, pink face of her newborn. It was another little girl. She leaned down and pressed a loving kiss on the baby’s head,

“Welcome to the new year, little one.~”

[ursuburbanmother]

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter One

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Angus have been best friends since you were little children. Now in high school the only thing that separates you is a lake between both your schools. Due to what was describe by your headmaster as "Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part," you are forced to stay at the Barton Academy for the holidays with the company of your best friend or maybe more.

a/n: hi guys! I’m new so try to be kind to me lol. Anyways this is probably not very good. It’s slow paced cause I wanted to establish their friendship. Not sure where this is going so if you have any suggestions let me know! Also not grammar or beta read so…

Word Count: 3k

Find: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17th, 1970

You hadn’t spoken to your parents in months. You figured they would call or write a letter or something. In October they wished you a speedy little, “Happy Halloween,” before hanging up. You could hear the loud party in the background. Always the socialites, they were probably eager to get back to enjoying themselves by downing flutes of champagne and appetizers. Now it was December, and you had not received a peep from either. When the holiday plans form was passed out to the girls of your boarding school at the end of November, you ignored it. Then the deadline came, and you hastily checked off the box that said, ‘Plan to stay on campus.’

Your parents hadn’t called to dispute it and now you’re stuck at mass, sitting in a pew, watching other happy families and their daughters anxiously waiting to leave. You wondered if there was still a way for you to get away. Your friend, really only friend, Angus Tully was headed to St. Kitts and with him gone, your only true escape was gone. If he knew you were stuck holding over, he would beg his parents to take you, but you knew it would be too much of an imposition, so you kept that fact secret.

Life had always seemed to throw you two together. Even at the age where cooties were still a very legitimate fear. Born in the same snobby Boston neighborhood you two were often the only kids at your parent's parties. You remember that humid night on the Fourth of July when you had met the lanky boy with a mess of brown curls. The fireworks had begun to go off and everyone wore white dresses and suits. You had become restless and started to wander the halls of your home aimlessly. Streamers of blue, red and white hung from the ceiling and servers walked around passing out sparklers.

You found him on the patio. He tugged, annoyed, at his tie. Your own dress was stifling in the heat and for a pair of seven-year-olds, you found the best solution to your ailment was to jump into the shallow end of the pool.

“I’ll do it, if you do it,” you had promised under the hum of cicadas and floating fireflies.

“Deal,” you shook hands.

The water was cold and clear. You swam around for a while, splashing each other and playing Marco Polo. It was at the same time your mother had decided to move the party outside so people could watch the lights in the sky a bit better. You two were pulled out of the pool and shook like wet dogs.

Livid, your parents fed you the line all parents wait to say to their troublesome child, “If your friend jumped off a bridge, would you?” You decided at that moment that yes, you would.

After that you two were inseparable. Because when you're a kid all you need is one single act of solidarity to devote your life to someone. Throughout elementary school you were practically fused to one another. You’d exclude people from your game of hopscotch and eat lunch in secret nooks. When you two were headed to high school your parents enrolled you in a posh all-girl boarding school and Angus to some prep school in another rural part of Massachusetts. Phone calls rang long. You remember the groans you would get from other girls who would give up trying to use the payphone. At some point you had run out of quarters and so to save money you had begun writing letters. Angus being Angus, he’d write as if he was off at war and the letters were the last things keeping him sane.

You knew he never enjoyed school but after he was kicked out from his first preparatory, then his second and third, you had turned into a scolding mother.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Die if I’m lucky, shave my head at Fork Union if not.”

“I want to go to college with you Angus. If not college then I at least want to be able to be an adult with you. One with a diploma so we can get easy jobs as regional salespeople or something,” you mumbled, twirling the phone cord around with your finger.

“You really thought this out,” he laughed.

“I’m serious, Augie.” You heard him sigh across the line.

“Okay. I’ll do better. No screw ups next time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

When he was sent to Barton, your sister school, you couldn’t have been more excited. It was a short walk away; you could see it from across the lake that separated you. Your mom had been the one to call you about the change. She said his mother thought having him near you would make him less fussy. Something about you being the good influence he needs. You doubted that yet bit your tongue, knowing it would create more trouble than anything. Now it had been over a year and Angus had kept his word. When the opportunity arose for you to meet up, you would take it. Football games or talent shows, you were there. To anyone outside, it would have appeared as though you two just held a lot of school spirit. Like that beach boy's song.

“Be true to your school now,” you’d sing into Angus' ear.

He’d roll his eyes but always join in, “just like you would to your girl or guy.”

“Rah-rah-rah-rah sis boom bah! I love that part!” You’d giggle.

He’d try to hide his smile, but you could always tell. He’d put his arm around your shoulder and say, “Yeah okay.”

…

Once you were dismissed from mass you sighed and trudged all the way back through the snow to your dorm building. Having it so empty was eerie, you could hear your own footsteps echoing down the halls. You made your way into the common room to wait for Ms. Orchard.

She was meant to be your babysitter for the next few weeks. She was your Renaissance literature teacher. Ms. Orchard was nice but on the older side, which meant she was traditional. You often thought she would be better suited to be a Home Economics teacher if she was so invested in being ladylike.

You sat in the corner of the couch and opened a book. Minutes passed and it seemed obvious no one was coming to join you. Not even Mrs. Orchard. She probably broke a hip trying to make her way back in the snow.

“Ms. Orchard has broken a hip while walking in the snow,” the door suddenly bursts open hitting the side of the wall so hard it shakes the room.

“What?” Your mouth drops at the news. Shit, had you jinxed it?

Your Dean, Mr. Jameson says as he walks in, covered in snowflakes. “Yup. She slipped on ice on the way here. By the parking lot. Didn’t you hear the ambulance?”

“Uh… no?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking around the room, “where are the other girls?”

“I think it’s just me sir.”

“Ah, right. Well that makes this easier. You’ll be spending your Christmas break at Barton. Now, it’s awfully last minute so we hope they take you. Why don’t you go get your bag ready and-,”

“Hold on. Barton the boys' school?” You could almost gag at the idea. No offense to Angus, but you could remember the endless horror stories he would tell you of life in a boys' school. The air always smelled weird, and cleanliness was the least of their worries. “Isn’t there somebody to replace Ms. Orchard?”

“This place cleared out thirty minutes ago, Ms. L/n,” he said, “And I have a family to get back to.”

“But-, I just-, isn't there a rule against this or something?”

“I have no doubt that the teacher supervisor there will ensure you have a safe, jolly time Ms. L/n.”

“But I-,”

“That’s enough. I understand this is an unprecedented situation, but the only alternative would be to leave you here alone and that just is not going to happen. Please Ms. L/n, make this easy for everyone.” With his hand he motioned towards the door.

“Fine,” you gritted out. You got off the couch and went to your room. You half-heartedly crammed anything you could into your suitcase. Some shirts, sweaters and pants. You ran out of space and resorted to carrying your books in your hands along with your potted plant. You felt bad leaving your lavender to just sit and wilt, so you took her with you.

“I made a few calls. Everything should work out. You all settled then?” Mr. Jameson said once you had made your way back to the common room. Nodding with a tight-lipped smile you headed out. You two could have walked but apparently, he was in a hurry to catch a six o’clock flight and you ended up taking his car.

It was a short drive and with reluctance you made your way inside the school. “Come on. Put a pep in your step,” Mr. Jameson clapped.

He navigated you around. You had only been in the main building, never the dorms. Blindly you let him guide you until you found yourself in a room with four other boys and Angus. Angus who was supposed to be half-way to the airport by now. His sulky face shifted into one of shock. You took a step towards him only to be stopped by your dean's arm in front of you. The other guys were looking at you with mouths wide open. It was like their eyes were about to fall out of their sockets. You grumbled, not knowing what else to do.

Mr. Jameson took the lead, “Mr. Hunham? Correct?” He outstretched his hand for him to shake. Hesitantly the older man took it.

“What’s the meaning of this,” he pointed between Mr. Jameson and you.

“Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part. This is Ms. Y/n L/n. Come introduce yourself.”

“I’m Y/n L/n,” you shrugged, looking at Angus for guidance. In unison they all say hello.

“Can we speak in private,” Mr. Jameson asked.

“Alright,” Mr. Hunham says, “no funny business,” he gives a pointed look to the boys.

The two teachers leave, and you quickly move to Angus to encapsulate him in a quick hug.

“What the hell? What are you doing here?”

“Funny, I was going to ask the same thing.”

“What the hell Angus. You have a girlfriend?” A blonde boy with a red tie says as his eyes scan your figure. You shift uncomfortably at the action. “A smoking one too…”

“Shut it Kountze, you’re catching flies,” Angus scoffs.

The door creaks open as both gentlemen return from their brief chat. You and Angus move away from each other like you were caught doing something wrong.

“It seems we will be extending you an invitation to Ms. L/n,” Mr. Hunham says, “you okayed this with Woodrup?” He verifies again with Dean Jameson.

“Yes, it’s all settled. We at Janie Patrick’s School thank you. We owe you one,” he turns to you, “goodbye L/n, you’re in good hands.”

He was halfway through the door when Mr. Hunham cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly. “As I was saying, we will be following a standard school schedule.”

“Uh, sir? We’re on vacation.” Kountze points out.

“Which means we’ll be taking our meals together. And you will observe regular hours of study.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The Peloponnesian War awaits, Mr. Kountze, you and Mr. Tully. The rest of you can get a jump on next semester. It’ll pay off. You’ll see.”

“We’re already holding over, and now we’re being punished for it?” Angus says bitterly and on fast reflex you rub his arm comfortingly. Mr. Hunham is just as fast to notice.

“Oh no, no, no. Do not tell me this is your girlfriend Mr. Tully.”

“Wh-what. No! We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, we were born on the same street!”

“I do not intend to break apart your romantic escapades all break long.”

“We. Are. Just. Friends,” Angus reaffirms, venom on his tongue. You could see the blush rising on his pale cheeks. You could feel your own as well.

“Mhm,” Hunham hums skeptically, his gaze lingers on you two for a second before glancing back at his clipboard, “Alright… You will be afforded limited windows for recreation and supervised physical activity.”

“The gyms are not even open yet.”

“Yeah, they only lacquered half the floor,” another boy points out, this one has long blonde hair that reaches his shoulders.

“Fresh air will do you good,” says Hunham.

“It’s like 15 degrees outside.”

“And the Romans bathed naked in the freezing Tiber. Adversity builds character Mr. Tully. Uh, speaking of which, the school will be cutting heat to dormitories and faculty housing and so we’ll all be bunking in the infirmary. With separate accommodations for Ms. L/n of course.”

They all groan. You're just upset. You had thought you would spend the next two weeks avoiding Ms. Orchard and lying to Angus about your whereabouts while he admiringly described the beaches of St. Kitts to you over postcards. Although you supposed it wasn’t all bad. You could spend more time with him, under the watchful glare of Angus' teacher of course.

Together you all get ready to haul your things to the infirmary before being stopped by Mr. Hunhams tsking in disapproval.

“You philistines are just going to let the lady carry her own things? I’m sorry to see Barton has failed in ingraining a sense of chivalry into you.”

“Oh no, it’s alright really, I can do it,” you protest but they all scramble to help you anyway. “Can I carry your suitcase Y/n?” Kountze says, in an odd way, that was meant to be suggestive.

“Okay Kountze, piss off,” Tully pushes him away, leaning down slightly to get your things, “let’s go.” He walks quickly out the door, leaving the rest of you to follow him.

As you are slapped in the face by the harsh winds you curse the idiots at your school who refused to let you wear pants. You were forced to put on double the tights and your warmest coat. It did not do anything to aid you and your shivering made that clear. It was like they wanted to torture you when the boys stopped halfway down the quad and in front of a truck. You're still holding your books so it's not like you can rub your arms to help you out a little. They were complaining about Hunham, who they so endearingly nicknamed “Walleye.”

“Hey, guys, hold up for a second,” Angus tells the young kids in front of you. He sets his, and your things, down on the grimy paved road. He searched through his pockets and lit a cigarette. “Want one?” he asks you and Kountze.

“No. I got something else. Give me that,” he grabs the lighter from him and sparks a joint.

“Hey, don’t smoke that out here. I don't want to get busted by Walleye.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,”

“I’m not a pussy, I just don't want to end up at Fork Union paying for your mistake.”

He ignores Angus and instead turns his attention to you instead, “You're not like a total priss right?”

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you were.

“Alright,” he smirks and stretches his hand out for you to shake, “Teddy Kountze.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. The other unnamed boy is the next to greet you.

“Jason Smith.”

“We know who you are. You want to hit this,” Teddy offers the jock the joint.

Jason scans his surroundings before agreeing, “Uh, yeah.”

“You got a great arm man,” he compliments,

“Yeah, well, it’s just football.”

“How’d you get stuck holding over?”

“I’m supposed to be skiing with my folks up at Haystack, but my dad put his foot down. Said I can’t come home unless I cut my hair.”

“So why don’t you cut your hair?

“Civil disobedience, man.”

“I dig that,” you comment. “You know that when they tried to cut that tree between our schools, I organized the tree-sitting.”

“Holy shit that was you? Figured it was some hippies from Boston,” Teddy snickers.

“Nope. I sat in that tree for hours, drinking from water bottles that Angus tossed up to us.”

“Did it work?” Jason wonders.

“For now, yeah.”

“Awesome…. But no, he’s cool. It’s just a battle of wills. Still, I was hoping he’d cave first, because the powder up at Haystack is so sweet right now.”

“What about you, Mr. Moto? Why are you here?” Teddy asks one of the first-year boys.

He appears embarrassed to be singled out, “No, my name is Ye-Joon. My family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”

“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken,” Teddy laughs to himself. Angus didn’t exaggerate when she said this guy was a jerk.

“What a rickshaw?”

Angus intervenes, “You’re an asshole, Kountze. Your mind’s a cesspool and a shallow one at that.”

“Who’s the asshole Tully? You’re the one who blew up history.” Jason notices the tension and brings the group's conversation back to the freshman.

“What’s your story man?”

“Alex Ollerman. I’m here because my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS. “Mormons, right?” Alex nods yes.

“Don’t you guys wear some kind of magic underwear?” It's like Teddy loves to hear himself talk, you think.

“Common misconception. Actually, it’s called a temple garment, and we’re only supposed to wear it when-.”

“Hey, what's with the townies?” Kountze spots two men emerging from the chapel with a large, heavy green tree in their grasp.

“Hey, what are you doing with our Christmas tree?” Angus shouts, tapping you on the shoulder in a way that says can you believe this?

“The school sold it back to us. Scotch pine, still fresh.” The stranger shouts back.

“Yeah, we’re going to put it back on the lot. We do it every year.”

“This is the most bullshit ever.”

The boys put out their separate smokes much to the relief of Alex and Ye-Joon. You fall behind the rest of them and Angus naturally finds his place next to yours. You stroll in silence until he decides to break the ice.

“You going to tell me what happened?”

“You tell me first. You were so excited to go on vacation.”

“One word. Stanley.”

You grimace, knowing what that means. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever. They want to spend their honeymoon forgetting my existence then they can do just that. I’m almost an adult anyway. Then I can go anywhere I want anytime.”

“Is that what Judy said?”

“That was the bullshit excuse, yes.”

“Hey, you got me though. We’ll make this fun.”

“We have no tree, Hunham will be breathing down our back, and Kountze hasn’t stopped ogling at you since you arrived. Does that sound like the perfect Christmas to you?”

You laugh softly, “Ignore Hunham and Kountze. As for the tree, we could always Charlie Brown it. What do you think the lavender is here for?” You shake your plant a little. The purple bush sways in the wind.

He smiles, “Yeah… It’s not a bad little tree,” he begins to quote.

“Maybe it just needs a little love,” you say together and break into a fit of giggles.

[doe-eyed-fool]

Secret Love, My Escape

Lucifer x Fem!Angel!Reader

If nothing else, Lucifer was beyond faithful to his lover. He would do anything for the person he's devoted himself to. He would even risk death, all for the one he loves.

And in turn, his love would do the same...

You knew this was a foolish idea, terrible even. Sneaking out of Heaven to meet with the demons of hell. If you were ever caught, who knows what punishment you would be given? But you didn't care. You weren't just meeting with any demon, but Lucifer himself.

The love of your life.

He knew it wasn't the best idea, it would end so horribly if Heaven ever finds out. But he couldn't help himself. His love for you was far stronger than his worries.

It wasn't bad to worry, far from it in this situation. But, he couldn't let someone as wonderful as you go. He may live on forever, but he could not go an eternity without you.

He would do anything to see you, even if just for a little while.

Even if it happened like this.

This wasn't the first time you two had done this either. You've went down to Hell quite a few times, it was practically routine at this point. And you were excited every time you got to.

You loved Lucifer more than anything. You cherished him, you never wanted to go a moment without him by your side. The time spent apart, was heartbreaking.

You two are from two separate worlds, after all. Heaven frowns upon the demons and sinners in Hell, but for an angel and the king of Hell to be together like this?

You both knew what Heaven's reaction would be. And it wasn't good for either of you...

But you didn't want to think about that. Right now, you just wanted to enjoy Lucifer's company, in the little time you were granted to visit him.

This time, the two of you were having a bit of a lazy day. Normally, Lucifer would try to keep you entertained, while in the privacy of his palace walls, of course. But today, the two of you just lay together in each other's arms.

You both would talk about nothing in particular, though, you always liked hearing about his daughter Charlie and the hotel, as well as her friends, as weird and wild as they could be.

And of course, there was never a day you visited, that Lucifer didn't talk about his latest duck related creations. You didn't mind at all. You loved seeing his face light up with joy and excitement whenever he talked about them.

"So, I was thinking about making a new rubber duck. One that shoots fireworks from like, a little hat on it's head." Lucifer explains. "There have been some previous attempts, each resulting in a few tiny fires, but! I think I'm getting pretty close to perfecting it!"

You giggle. "Well, I'd love to see it once it's finished." Lucifer smiled, though it quickly vanished as he noticed the time. He sighed, you knew what that meant.

"Already?" You mutter. Lucifer nods, frowning. You sit up and breath a sigh of your own. "It seems our visits just go by faster and faster."

"Yeah..." Lucifer sits up as well. You put your hand on his. "I wish there was a way I could just stay here." As much as Lucifer would have liked to have you with him. He could not bare the thought of you having to be in this terrible place. You were better off in Heaven where you belong...

"Come on, let's get you home before the others notice." Lucifer says. You begrudgingly agreed, your chest already aching, and you haven't even left yet.

If only there were some other way...

Heaven was nice. No one could deny that. But to you, it never felt more empty without Lucifer. But that's not all. Heaven was nice. On the surface that is. You knew about what the higher ups were hiding though.

Lucifer had told you about the extermination, and the angels that Adam lead down to Hell, in attempts to destroy his daughter's hotel and kill those who called it home.

Speaking of Adam. He was dead, killed in that attack he lead. And of course, Heaven covered that up as well. So long as the citizens of Heaven were happy and unaware, there would be no chaos. No panic.

No questioning...

You knew better than to try and reveal Heaven's lies. You were only one person, after all. Though, the people of Heaven deserved to know just what kind of "paradise" they were living in.

That would only result in you being placed on trial, and eventually being forced out of Heaven.

However, speaking up would not be what caused for such a thing to happen.

No, unfortunately, you would be placed on trial, for something you'd hope you'd never be accused of.

"Y/n, for your sake, you'd better speak only the truth in this courtroom."

The head seraphim's eyes were cold and unforgiving as she looks down at you. You could only look back at her with panic, and a terrible twisting feeling in your chest.

"Have you been sneaking off down to Hell?" She asks. You open your mouth to speak, but your voice would not find you. Instead, you nod. The seraphim's eyes narrow. "And how exactly have you managed this?"

Still unable to speak, you cast your gaze downward. The seraphim's voice caused you to flinch, as she spoke your name with such venom in her voice.

"Y/n."

You look back up at her, defeated. "Sera. I think you know how..." You say weakly. Sera sighed. "This is entirely unheard of. Lucifer isn't just some ordinary demon. He is the king of of all evil. Risking your place in Heaven for him, is beyond foolish."

Your brows furrow. She speaks of Lucifer like he is some sort of monster. And you will not have it.

"You don't know anything about him." You start. "Not truly. Lucifer may be the king of Hell, but he is nothing like a demon. Deep down, he's still an angel. And you all refuse to see it, all because you do not understand him!"

You were going to be punished anyway. Might as well speak your mind.

"I love him! And I'd rather fall than go an eternity without him, and be stuck here knowing that Heaven is a scam!"

Sera looked at you silently for a moment before turning away. "Then so be it."

Your arms were suddenly being restrained by two exorcist, a third walking up behind you, sword in hand. Then you felt it...

The feeling of your wings being torn from you. You cried in agony, the sound of them falling to the ground with a thud nearly made you sick. Your arms were released, and you began to fall back.

Only you did not hit the floor, instead, you continued to fall and fall for what felt like forever.

Until finally, you collied with solid, hard ground...

When you opened your eyes, pain was the first thing you felt. Your back throbbed and your body ached. But you managed to pick yourself up, just barely keeping yourself standing.

You take a look around, and then up at the blood red sky. Yep, this was definitely Hell. You look back ahead, far in the distance, you could make out a building. Not just any building, a hotel.

You felt a twinge of hope as you start off in that direction. If this was indeed that hotel, you might have a better chance of finding Lucifer than you think.

Lucifer had started spending more time at his daughter's hotel than his own home as of recently. Only being at the palace for when you visited. If you were going to find him anywhere, it'd be there.

You walked for a long while before you finally reached the hotel. Just before the entrance is where you fell to your knees, exhausted. Your body was crying for rest, but your mind was racing. You couldn't give up now. You were so close.

Just as exhaustion started to fully set in, the doors to the hotel opened. And you make out a figure in the door way. Their voice was muffled, but you recognized just who the voice belonged to immediately.

"I'll be back shortly, Charlie! Just have to grab a few more things from home."

You forced yourself to stand, ignoring the new wave of pain and drowsiness that washed over you. Your voice cracked as you called out.

"Lucifer?"

It was indeed Lucifer. He turned his head in your direction, his eyes wide as he noticed it was you. He stood there for a moment, unable to think or speak clearly.

Was his mind playing tricks on him? How were you here? Why were you here?

You smile slightly and take a step forward. "Lucifer...Lucifer!" You cried running towards him with open arms. You stumbled slightly, but Lucifer caught you.

"Y/n...What are you doing here?"

You held onto him tightly, tears forming in your eyes. "I...I just couldn't stay away." You say before pulling away to look up at him. Lucifer stared back at you with concern, but mostly confusion. Just as he went to speak again, you leaned in and met your lips with his.

Lucifer became less tense as he melted into the kiss. He didn't know how this was happening. He was still trying to process you standing in front of him right now.

You pull back, smiling as you look him in the eyes. You move your hand up to his cheek. "I love you."

Lucifer opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as he felt something warm on his palm. He moved his hand off of your back, and his heart dropped at the sight of gold staining his hand.

"Y/n...Don't tell me they..."

You leaned in and rest your head on his chest. "I'm so tired Lucifer...Just, don't let me sleep for too long. Ok?"

"Y/n!?" Lucifer's panic grew as you went limp in his arms. How could he not have noticed right then?

Your wings were missing.

There was no time to ponder it now, he scooped you up into his arms and teleported back to the palace. No one else needed to gaze upon your blood, it would only raise questions and attract unwanted attention.

As soon as you two were behind closed doors, Lucifer stripped away the top of your outfit, grimacing slightly at the sight of the two long tears on your back.

He placed his hands on your back gently and inhaled. A warm glow emanated from his palms that spread throughout your back.

"Come on...Stay with me Y/n." He whispered desperately.

After a few seconds, the glow faded. He moved his hands away, the wound was fully healed. But you were still motionless.

"Y/n, please. Please come back to me." Lucifer holds you close to him, cradling your head with one hand, the other at your waist. "Please...Please don't leave me..."

Lucifer held you for hours after that, refusing to let you go or leave your side for even a second. The only hope he held onto, was the faint breathing that came from you.

He blamed himself for this. He should have just left you alone. He should have never snuck you down here like he did, for as long as he did. He should have just pushed you away.

At least then, you'd be safe.

"I'm so sorry, Y/n." Lucifer said softly. "You were hurt because of me. You fell because of me. And now, you're stuck here. And it's all my fault..."

"I'm such an idiot." Lucifer closed his eyes, tears stinging at his eyes.

"Luci...don't talk so badly about yourself."

Lucifer shot up, looking down at you with wide eyes. "Y/n?" You smile and slowly open your eyes. "Hi."

Lucifer felt the tears rolling down his cheeks. Though, he couldn't stop smiling. He sniffled a few times. "H-Hi!" He chuckles. His laughter was quickly cut short.

"Y/n. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I never meant for you to be damned to his awful place. You should be up in Heaven, in paradise. Not down here with all the evil and scum that Hell has to offer."

"Lucifer." You start. "It's not paradise. Especially not without you. I never would have been happy alone up there. It killed me anytime I had to leave you."

"But now you're stuck here forever." Lucifer says weakly. You kiss his cheek. "We're here together."

Lucifer brought you in a closer embrace. You speak again. "Thank you for healing me, Luci. I'm sorry if I scared you." Lucifer shook his head. "I'm just glad you're alive. But..." Lucifer draws back to look at you. "Are you ok with this?"

"Of course I am. You're here, and now, I'm here. I love you way too much for it to be any other way."

Lucifer smiled and kissed you softy. "I love you too."

The two of you enjoyed each other's embrace that night. Only this time, moments like this would be forever.

[luveline]

hi! i know ur not from the us so pls feel free to ignore this but i think a kbd fic where steve and the girls are doing sparklers for the fourth of july would be so cute! absolutely adore everything u post 🫶🏻

thank u!! sorry i know it isn't the fourth anymore bit I hope u enjoy regardless!! kbd —dad!steve and mom!reader show their daughters how to use sparklers for the first time, 2k

Steve isn't a huge fan of fireworks because of how dangerous they can be, but sparklers are just fine in his book. He buys a box of thirty. The girls can do ten each if they feel like it, though he knows Dove won't be interested, and he guesses Bethie will be too scared to hold them. 

Still, he hopes. You're hosting a banquet of food when he arrives, a mixture of things you made and stuff he prepared yesterday. It's a feast of hotdogs and burgers, cupcakes and donuts, macaroni and cheese and chilli with white rice. The table is crammed with plates and the radio is on, playing fun pop music a little too loudly for Dove's taste, her hands over her ears.

You turn down the radio, and ask her where she sits on your hip, "Is that better, sweetheart?" 

"Hey," he says, putting the box of sparklers on the counter. 

"Hey, Stevie," you say, in a rare tone. You always talk to him with love but he adores how you say his name now, like you've never been happier to see him in your entire life. "They had some?"

"Lucky, right? Guess I'm not the only schmuck who forgot to buy some." 

Avery rushes for his legs, a chocolate donut in one hand and a cup of juice in the other. Despite her luggage, she expects to be picked up. Steve grabs her. 

"You're cold, dad," she says. 

"Really? It's not cold out," he says. 

"You need something to warm you up." 

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Sure I do. Give me a hug, but don't get icing in my hair, please." 

Avery hugs him, sticky cheek pressing into his as her arms strain around him. He pats her back, meeting your eyes and returning your happy smile. Steve turns on the spot to see Bethie practically elbow deep in a bowl of chilli. She loves anything that comes with rice, and she eats it like someone's going to take it away from her, chilli staining her lips and cheeks, a grain of rice stuck to her chin.

"Did you get a photo of that?" he asks. 

"Of course I did," you laugh, putting Dove down to brace yourself against the counter. You stretch your neck in a tight circle. 

"Thank you. Beth, that looks so nice! Are you saving any for me?" 

"No!" she says happily, smiling wide as an ocean. 

"Good girl. Alright, you tell me when you're finished, I have something fun for after dinner." 

Dinner gets put on pause. You wipe Bethie's face clean, giggling the whole time and telling her how cute she is in your saccharine mommy voice that melts her, "We should have that more often, huh?" It's always a good day when Bethie eats well.

Steve helps Avery put her shoes on and together they step out into the backyard. It's small considering the house is a four bedroom, but maybe that's why you'd been able to afford it in the first place. You work with what space you have. There's a light wood fence, the perimeter half lined by pansies and the other side with a slim shed full of their bikes and scooters and a small bed where the girls attempted to grow strawberries last year. They didn't take, but Steve has hope for this summer. 

The yard is clean though slightly neglected, and Steve has to work spider duty before Avery will agree to step off of the doorjam. You follow soon, Dove at your shins, Bethie cautious as she steps out in her socks behind you.

"Where's your shoes?" Steve asks her. 

"I told her she didn't have to wear them," you say. "She says they're pinching her toes." 

Steve had Beth's feet measured specifically to avoid that. He assumes it isn't pinching so much as not wanting to wear them. He shrugs. "Okay. Stay on the stones then, Beth, I don't know what's in the grass. You might step on a snail." 

"Ew," she says, sitting down in the doorway.

Steve lights a sparkler for no one first of all, wondering how each girl will react. He hands it to you as the sparks jump to life, white and bright in the shade of the garden, the shadow of their house. You wave it around gently, but when each of your daughters gasps in unhappy shock, you hold your hand under the sparkler and let a spark kiss your palm. 

"They aren't dangerous," you promise. You wave it into a heart, a star, the letter A. "Does anyone wanna try?" 

"Me!" Avery shouts, holding out her hand. The sparkler burns remarkably quickly down to the stem.

"Dad will give you a new one. Hey, baby?" you put the sparkler down on the glass patio table as it sputters out. "Don't you have those gardening gloves?" 

Soon, Steve's outfitted each girl in a glove too big for their hand. He passes Avery a sparkler, and her bravery and subsequent joy prompts some jealousy in Bethie, fighting her fear to take one too. You crouch down to stand with her as she waves it around, her eyes like saucers as white sparks fly. 

"It's so pretty!" you say. 

Dove is interested, but not in holding one. Steve picks her up and lights a sparkler, raising it away from her curious hands to draw her name. Avery squeaks with happiness and proclaims it as magic. "Dad, I'm a fairy!" 

"I can see! Try not to put it by your hair, okay?" 

She squeals some more until it dies in her hand. "Can I have another one?" 

"Ooh," you coo, watching with pride as Bethie draws a circle with hers, "my girl's brave today, I'm super proud of you. Isn't this fun?"

Steve lights another one for Avery and gives Dove a loving kiss, thrilled to see them all this happy. He's really surprised Bethie's enjoying herself, but he supposes it would be hard for her to have a bad time with your hands on her shoulders, your encouragement soft and shining as angora silk. 

They must use up four or five each like that. 

"Daddy," Dove says, imploring as she touches his face. 

"What?" he asks, thinking of tacking 'my little princess' on the end but withholding. Lately every sentence he says has a pet name squeezed in the middle. He has a lot of love to give. 

She looks at him. He pats her small back, wondering if she's going to bless him with a sentence or two. She's old enough now to be talking, but she's quiet like Bethie most of the time. Or, she's not talkative —Dove is far from quiet. 

"Hotdog, please."

Steve laughs loudly. "You want me to make you a hotdog?" 

"And ketchup." 

"Yeah, I can make you a hotdog. You don't want to stay for another sparkler?" he asks. 

"No." 

He laughs again, pressing another kiss overtop the first one he'd laid on her chubby cheek. "Thank you for saying please, sweetheart. You're such a good girl." 

"Can I have a hotdog, too?" Avery asks.

"Sure you can, whatever you want. Beth? Mom?" 

You've sat down on the floor. You're probably cold, but your smile would never show it. "I think me and Bethie are going to have another helping of chilli and rice, aren't we?" you ask hopefully. 

Bethie's sparkler fizzles out. "Can we do more sparklers again?" 

"Yeah. Tell you what, let's go back inside for food and when everyone's full, we'll come outside and do some more before bed. Sound good?" 

The girls head inside, and Steve makes some hotdogs on the stove. Dove falls asleep with a bun in her hand, Bethie with her cheeks painted in sauce. Avery doesn't tire so easily, and while the others sleep, you and Steve take her out to the back door to light another sparkler. You write your names, you draw clumsy constellations. Steve writes 'I love

Avery,' grinning as she sounds out each letter. 

Avery relishes in the delight of having your unfettered attention. She stays up for hours after her sisters with you and Steve, long enough to watch stray fireworks shoot up into the sky over your backyard, her head on your shoulder, her hand in Steve's hand. 

"This is the best day ever," she says. 

Steve wants to cry. Genuinely. He meets your eyes over Avery's head, and you shuffle closer to her without speaking, enveloping her in a hug from either side. 

"Every day is the best day ever with you around, Ave," Steve says. 

"The best. Me and dad tried some fireworks, when you weren't born." Steve and Avery look at you with mirrored interest. He doesn't remember what story you're going to tell. "You would've been very small in me at the time," you say, looking up as a pink and white firework blossoms across the night sky like a peony. "Like a strawberry seed. We… didn't know you were coming. I knew. I knew, but I didn't know. I could feel you right here," —you point at your stomach— "but I had no idea what you were going to be." 

"Hey, you're right," Steve says. He forgets you were pregnant before you knew it. 

"But me and dad lived together already," you say. "We were always going to get married and have babies and stuff, but you came really quickly. You were excited." 

Steve grins. Avery hangs on your every word. 

"But anyway, me and dad lived together. Not here, but somewhere, and we didn't have a yard but there was a little patch of grass and we figured we'd buy some, but he burned a stripe of my arm hair off by accident with a long lighter, and the we didn't have a fence to nail the Catherine wheel down, and he accidentally dropped the firecracker box on the way home so it didn't work anymore, and the rockets wouldn't light." 

"Oh, no," Avery says. "You didn't have any fireworks?" 

"None. But we had a pack of sparklers. We did it just like we did with you. I wrote 'I love Stevie' in big letters, and your dad tried to hug me and jabbed me in the stomach with his burned up one." 

"Your hoodie," Steve remembers finally. "Your white hoodie, I bought it for you the week before at the mall after you threw up in Dairy Queen. I remember." 

"I had it for a week, and he got this huge ash smudge on it." 

"But you wouldn't let me wash it with bleach." 

You give Avery a kiss on the top of her head. "I wanted to remember how happy we were. I thought the smudge was a nice reminder. Turns out I got much more than a smudge." 

"You got me," Avery decodes.

"We got you," you say. "You're a thousand different things, Avery. You're smart, and kind, and pretty, and you're also a really good reminder that your dad loves me." 

"Do you need a reminder?" Steve asks, genuinely worried, and kind of in awe. How you can sit there and say something that romantic off the cuff is beyond him. He really might cry soon. 

"No," you say smugly. "You tell me all the time." 

Not enough, he decides. After this, he'll be sure to tell you more. 

Steve falls in love with you for the thousandth time.

"What I'm trying to tell you, Ave, is that dad is right. Every day with you in it is a really good day. I love you so much," you start to fizzle, which is to say your voice gets tight. You won't cry, but Steve teeters. "I'm really, really happy you had the best day ever, 'cos you make every day the best for dad and your sisters and me." 

"Really?" Avery asks softly. 

"Really," Steve says, rubbing the space between her shoulders. 

A rocket squeals into the air and fractures into a ring of spectral colours. 

Avery climbs onto her feet, and, torn between who to hug, wraps an arm around both of your necks. 

Steve wraps his arms around you both, squeezing your hip. He's gotten used to being loved, to feeling it, but tonight might be an all time high. Sparklers become a Harrington tradition that year. 

[riverphoenixsgothwife]

lawlight fic rec list

so i’m gonna do a series of these, starting with my favorite death note ship! make sure to pay attention to all warnings on these fics. enjoy! if you have a ship you’d like me to make a rec list for, please just send me an ask! i don’t want to be obnoxious, and i’m not saying they’re good, but i (slackjawbitch on ao3) have some lawlight fics up!

♡ = a favorite of kitty’s

angst

♡ 1. i’m drowning; please save me: L looks at Yagami Light and drowns. There is no other way to put it. As the days pass and blend into weeks, L looks at Yagami Light sitting next to him, the harsh lines of his face creased and determined, and he swallows water.

L looks at Yagami Light and he cannot breathe.

great characterization, always makes me very emo, and is probably a pretty major influence on my writing. one shot. 1,817 words.

2. always waiting for you just to cut to the bone: And then, breaking through the pounding in his head he hears what would be the last words out of that wretched man’s lips.

“I love you.”

fic for teh death note drama (2016) canon! title is unfortunately from a t*ylor sw*ft song (/silly) but this fic is so good and sad.

3. Our Bodies, Possessed By Light: L. Lawliet is a gifted photographer who believes he has understood the light and its secrets. Light Yagami is a young, unstable and slightly crooked model. Together, they kill time.

modeling and photography au. make sure to read all teh tags and warnings for this one; there’s nothing gross, but some potentially triggering subjects for some people are in here. multi chapter. 81,218 words.

4. Hearts and Spades: Which would you choose? Love or death? RaitoL, slight AU.

short but sweet piece featuring that classic fanfiction dot net era vibe, an emo-ass playing card metaphor (/pos), and a recounting of l’s death scene that made me sad over him all over again (also /pos). and also light being obnoxious, but it’s death note, so that’s usually a given, lol. one shot. 1,801 words.

5. Not Quite Drowning: Sometimes Light ponders happiness. L/Light

a short lawlight and light character study. i like it a lot, and i don’t usually like light, so that should tell you something about how well i think it’s written! one shot. 424 words.

♡ 6. Water, water, water: In the bath, they forget they’re a detective and a suspect; they remove these identities along with their clothes, layer by layer until there are only the handcuffs left. And them; facing the other in the eerie calmness of their bathroom.

At least, it’s how Light sees it.

i really love this one! make sure to read teh tags, as eating disorders and drugs are mentioned, for example. angst with a happy ending! one shot. 3,504 words.

fluff

1. Silver Bells: Silver bells...silver bells...

They’ve made it. Everything is okay now, when they’re dancing in the candlelight.

really, really cute! i recommend it as a palate cleanser to make you feel better after reading a sad one, lol. one shot. 1,255 words.

♡ 2. New Year’s Eve: "I've seen fireworks before," he says. "This is... so much... more."

just a cute little new year’s eve lawlight fireworks show! this one is also from 2009 which is kinda cool to me, haha. i like this author’s descriptive language a lot. one shot. 507 words.

♡ 3. Do Gay Penguins Go to Hell?: Too many New Year snacks bring about a family discussion between L, Raito and their daughter about healthy diet, common sayings and nature of good and evil. And gay penguins, of course. AU

a really darling kid fic, based on teh stupid, homophobic controversy over that adorable kids’ book about teh gay penguin couple. one shot. 3,791 words.

4. A Feeling: It's LxLight fluff! This takes place after Light was confined and lost his memories, chained to L. : D SO YUS. SOME FLUFF FOR YAH D: Hope you leik it :D

very cute “l and light cuddle and kiss” fic, written by a scene kid in 2008, which is extra points with me! one shot. 1,006 words.

alright! i will add to this rec list as i find more fics, and i would love it if people would send in their favorite lawlight fics!

[yellowkitkieran]

To Have and to Heal (Part 13)

Masterlist

Read part 1 here

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Single working dad Martin Odegaard is navigating the ups and downs of parenthood all on his own, and he’s struggling. That’s not to mention football, life and... love?

Last week, Martin decided it was high time you spend some quality time with Atla. Things have grown serious between yourself and Martin rather quickly and he's decided it's time for you to spend some one on one time with his daughter. And when his usual sitter called last night to say she'd come down with the flu, Martin figured there is no time like the present. 

"Atla, you know how sometimes when papa is busy, uncle Kieran will watch you alllll day and you'll do all sorts of fun things like painting, watching films, and eating sweets?" 

Atla grins, kicking her feet at the dining table. "Uh huh! Onkel Kieran is the best- he's my favoritest!" With her fist wrapped around her spoon, Atla shovels a bite of scrambled eggs into her mouth. Half of Martin hopes she never outgrows the odd way she holds utensils, but the other half knows she will have to. Just like she'll outgrow him helping her with her hair, helping her tie her shoes… Martin isn't looking forward to his little girl becoming her own fully functioning human being.

"Well… papa is busy today, but so is uncle Kieran." Atla frowns, her feet losing their momentum and swinging slower. "But there's someone else I think you'd enjoy spending the day with… what do you think about hanging out with Miss. Sunshine today?"

Bits of egg fly when Atla drops her spoon and gasps. "Papa! I get to see Miss. Sunshine today? Really! Is she coming here? When? What are we gonna do- I want to show her my studio!"

Martin laughs, glad to see his daughter so excited about the prospect of spending time with you. "She should be here soon, once you finish your breakfast. And all your milk! Once she's here you can show her all your artwork, I'm sure she'll love it."

"Okay- okay! I'll finish-" with two hands, Atla picks up her glass and finishes the contents. A white mustache of milk lines her upper lip, which Martin leans over the counter to wipe away with a napkin. Atla murmurs a thank you. The smile that accompanies it sparks joy in Martin's chest, lighting up his mood like fireworks on a warm summer night. 

A knock on the door comes as Atla is bouncing in her seat. "You stay here," Martin says with a pointed glance at his daughter's pink butterfly plate still heaped with her breakfast. "Finish your meal or I'll send Miss. Sunshine right back home."

"I'm gonna, I promise! Don't send her home!" Martin drops a reassuring kiss to the top of Atla's head as he passes, headed straight through the sitting room for the front foyer. Knowing it's you waiting on the other side of the door has a smile unfurling on Martin's face. He reaches for you the moment it opens, one hand firmly on your waist to draw you in for a kiss. 

"Hello solskin," Martin mumbles against your mouth, "missed you. Three days apart is too long."

An away game yesterday means Martin hasn't seen you since Wednesday- luckily, having played on Saturday meant you were free today. Whilst he still technically needed to attend a recovery session in an hour, his night would be mostly free. 

"I missed you too Mar, but you shouldn't kiss me when Atla is right there," you whisper in a way that's meant to be reprimanding but only makes Martin want to do it again. 

"Ah we're fine don't worry, she's finishing up her breakfast. We have time for one more kiss…" Martin grins, stealing another before you pull away. He loves the way you glance over his shoulder just to be double sure you're in the clear. 

"I'm still not sure about this." You say that, but the way you don't hesitate to set your bag on the table next to the door and toe off your shoes says something entirely different. "You're positive this won't end badly?"

Martin bends backwards at his waist to catch a glimpse of Atla in the dining room. The toddler hums a tune to herself whilst she arranges her potatoes in a line with her fork so she can eat them one by one. Martin has never been so sure of anything in his life. 

"Firstly, all Atla ever talks about on the way home from school is how much fun she had in the last few hours of her day. You know, when she's with you?" 

You wring your hands, "yeah but this is different. This is a full day, like six hours of just me and Attie."

Martin kisses your forehead, "solskin, quit worrying. She's gonna have the time of her life okay? Now let's go say hello and I'll get out of your hair."

Holding your hand until he nears the dining room, Martin gives it one last squeeze before he drops it and comes around to kiss the crown of Atla's head. "Great job finishing your plate søta! And just in time because look who's here." 

"Miss. Sunshine!" Atla's shriek nearly shatters Martin's eardrums, though the enthusiastic giggle that spills from her as she wraps her arms around your legs makes up for the momentary loss of hearing. 

"Hi princess! You and I are gonna have so much fun today!" Atla taps her feet, her excitement too much to be contained by her little body and manifesting in physical ways. "We're gonna go to the zoo- your papa said he's not taken you there all year!"

"I wanna see the tigers-" Atla scrunches up her face in her best teeth-bearing growl "-and the lions-" now her claws come out, fingers curled "-and the fishes!" At last Atla puffs out her cheeks, imitating the cutest little fish Martin has ever seen. 

Martin crouches to his daughter's level and tucks the bit of blonde hair that's sprung free from her pigtails behind her ear. His heart punches his ribs when your thumb brushes over his hand on Atla's shoulder. He prays today goes well- Martin doubts Atla will cause trouble, but toddlers are nothing if not unpredictable. 

"Be good for Miss Sunshine, søta. Remember to eat your greens so you can grow big and strong. And show Miss Sunshine where papa keeps the sweets- you can have one after lunch, so choose wisely." Martin kisses both of Atla's cheeks before crushing her in a hug. 

"I'll be good I promise- daddy you're gonna squeeze me too tight-" Atla wiggles and giggles until Martin finally lets go. "Bye papa! Go- shoo! Out!"

"Getting tossed out of my own home," Martin murmurs. "Luckily it's for a good cause." He catches your eye and he swears your smile could outshine a thousand stars.  

Martin loves you. It's clear then, and he cannot deny it. He would cross a hundred seas or face a thousand foes to ensure you are safe and protected. 

"Martin," you sing song, "we'll see you later, yeah?"

"Right, yeah-" Martin clears the gravel from his throat and has to consciously keep himself from kissing you. It's a reflex by now, as much as hugging Atla is. 

"Bye Martin! We'll see you in a bit- What are we doing first Attie?"

"Color! Papa isn't fun- we need blue puppies!" 

Martin pauses at the door, soaking in the moment. This could be his future. For once, Martin isn't terrified by the thought of loving someone other than his first wife- and it's a refreshing realization. 

"Bye girls!" Martin calls and is pushed out the door by your and Atla's mingled shouted farewells. How can he not have a great day when he knows his two favorite girls will be waiting for him when he comes home?

**********

When Martin leaves, you're a nervous wreck. You default onto your teacher tactics, herding Atla to the dining room table for some coloring whilst you try and calm your nerves. Only a minute later, your phone buzzes in your pocket with a text from Martin. 

Can't wait to see all the pictures of your adventures today. Have fun, she already loves you. Nothing to be worried about, solskin. 

As simple as the reminder is, Martin's reassurance is what finally quiets the what ifs swirling in your mind. You're here to bond with Atla, and that's what you intend to do. 

"First we color," you say, blue pencil poised over the print out of a long eared dog that Atla slid your way, "then a walk to the zoo? I think that's a solid plan!" 

"Yes! Yes please- I'm so happy you're here." Atla drops her own pencil and quickly wraps her arms around you in a haphazard hug. Her pencil is back in her hand faster than you can blink. You smile to yourself. Things seem to be off to a decent start. 

An hour later you're at the zoo, slathering sun block on Atla's face to protect her from the rare London sunshine. Even the weather wants today to be a good day for you. 

"I need to see the tigers," Atla declares adamantly. Her little hands are fisted on her hips, her no nonsense expression affording you no means to negotiate. 

"Well, that's a good thing those are my favorite. They're by the lions, and the leopards- the white ones with spots, and the black ones too. Can you find the tiger on the map?"

Off to the side of the walkway, you hoist Atla into your arms so she can better see the brightly colored map of the zoo posted by the entrance. Little pictures of animals dot the paths, along with their scientific names beneath each one. Atla takes her time, studying the map until finally she points to the correct spot. 

"There! We have to take pictures- papa loves tigers!"

Atla allows no pit stops along the way, dragging you towards the exhibit with surprising strength. You have to correct her once or twice when she gets turned around, but overall she does a decent job of navigating using the child-height signs along the way, designed to guide independent little ones.

"They're out- look Miss Sunshine! Look!" Atla tugs hard at your hand, dragging you towards the glass wall of the exhibit that allows you to safely view the animals beyond. Sleeping against the glass lays a tiger, it's black and orange striped fur warmed by the sun. 

"Be quiet, it's sleeping." You let go of Atla's hand so she can climb onto the stone ledge next to the glass. She gasps when she sees the animal's face, mesmerized by it's size. 

"It's so pretty," Atla murmurs, immediately smushing her face to the glass. "Papa loves them- he loves tigers. He's so close! I wanna pet him!" 

The tiger stirs and Atla jolts backwards. You catch her before she falls, suppressing your laugh. "It's okay, he can't get you from out here. He's just a big lazy kitty anyway- see? His eyes are open, he just wants to look at you." 

"Oh…" Regaining her courage, Atla puts her palms on the glass and stands up. She doesn't flinch this time when the tiger yawns, stretching it's substantial limbs. It's curved, pointed claws peek out from his toes, and Atla whips around to confirm that you're watching. When you nod, her attention returns to the beast at her feet. It's amber eyes bore into her own, curious but not malicious. It truly is a gorgeous animal- strong, fierce, and protective. 

Sort of like Martin, when you think about it. It takes considerable strength to captain a team as successful as Arsenal, and to do so without backing down at the first signs of trouble. Martin is fierce on and off the pitch, unwilling to bend when things get difficult. And protective? You cannot think of a single word that fits Martin more aptly. 

"Let's take some photos for papa," you suggest. Atla happily takes your phone and snaps some, including one of herself and you, the tiger barely visible in the background thanks to the odd angle. Regardless, you know it'll be Martin's new favorite. 

**********

Atla is almost asleep, be quiet when you come in please.

Luckily, Martin sees your warning as he pulls into the drive. His joints creak as he climbs the handful of steps to the door. Today was grueling. Martin wants to inhale a sugar-free coke and the rest of the grilled chicken he knows is waiting for him in the fridge. Then, he wants to get Atla up to bed (preferably under her own power, considering how his calves are already screaming at him), and settle in for a sappy film on the sofa with your feet in his lap. 

Martin finds you already in his spot, parked in front of the television with Atla's head resting on your knee. A touch to your shoulder ensures you don't startle upon Martin's near silent approach, a warning before he leans over the back of the sofa to confirm Atla's eyes are shut. 

Satisfied his daughter is asleep, Martin curls a finger under your chin. He uses it to tip your head back, studying your upside down smile and your sleepy eyes before he places a soft kiss on your pillowy lips. Even the simple gesture scatters sparks over his skin. 

"Hi," you murmur, the single word steeped in flowered affection. "Tough day?" A moan sits on the tip of Martin's tongue when you reach around and massage your fingertips against his shoulder blade, right where he's most sore. 

Martin hums, his face now buried in your neck. "Long day. You tired her out, I see."

"We had a packed day. Get her up to bed and then you can tell me all about yours. How's that sound?"

"Utmerket- perfect," Martin corrects himself when you quirk a brow at his norwegian. "Atlaaa," Martin drags out the 'A' until she stirs, "la oss gå til sengs."

"Jeg vil ikke," Atla whines and buries herself further under the blanket. "Jeg sover her."

"You can't sleep her søta," Martin murmurs, ignoring the burn in his muscles when he scoops his daughter into his arms. "Papa will take you upstairs to your room… you don't want Ty and Bernie and Liz to sleep all alone do you?"

Atla shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. "No- I'll go to bed…"

Martin smiles, climbing the carpeted stairs to the second level to deposit Atla in her bed. He goes through his nightly ritual, tucking her in under her fluffy pink comforter and arranging her squishmallows exactly how she likes it. It's Ty's night to cuddle so Martin tucks the brown dog in Atla's arms. Her soft coo of approval is music to Martin's ears. 

"Goodnight Attie, jeg elsker deg."

Atla only manages a wordless mumble in response. Martin flicks on her mushroom shaped night light and carefully slips out. As much as he wants to sprint into your arms, Martin knows he still carries the stink of sweat from training despite his rushed shower at the grounds so he heads off for a second one, scrubbing himself down thoroughly. 

Once he's satisfied he smells pleasant, he throws on the first pair of shorts he can find. He nearly trips on the bottom step in his haste to throw himself at you, grinning as he launches himself onto the sofa where you're waiting with open arms. 

"Oof- babe! Warn me before you do that… I need compensation for the elbow I just caught to my ribs!" 

Martin immediately soothes his hand over your side and pecks your lips. "Does that count? I missed you- did you and Atla have fun today? Did she behave?"

"One question at a time babe… yes, that kiss makes up for it." Your fingers thread in Martin's hair, guiding his head to rest on your chest. "Yes, Atla and I had fun today, I have plenty of photos to show you. She loved seeing the tigers, said they reminded her of you." When your nails scratch at his scalp, Martin's eyes begin to close. "And yes, Atla was an angel. She ate all her greens, just like you told her to. And now you need to eat yours." You nod to the coffee table, to a bowl Martin hadn't noticed earlier.

Martin has never been so happy to see a salad in his entire life. You must have prepared it while he was in the shower, and he happily sits up to dig in. He tries to savor it, but his stomach is a bottomless pit and he devours his meal in minutes. 

"Thank you. That was delicious." Martin brings you in for a kiss, deepening it for a split second to ensure you understand how appreciative it is. "You didn't- oh!"

When you grab the front of Martin's shirt and haul him towards you, he doesn't hesitate to kiss you again. He knows what you want, so he gives it to you. Your fingers glide over his chest while his tangle in your hair. He bites your lower lip and is rewarded with a surprised groan. He's wholly lost in you then, hypnotized by your sounds and transfixed by your hands on him. 

"Papa?"

Atla's voice rips the world from under Martin's feet. Dread cuts through the passion as the two of you jolt apart. Fuck. 

"Atla," Martin murmurs, frantically trying to straighten his shirt while you pat down your mussed hair. Martin clears his throat, trying to tamp down on his wild heartbeat. 

"Why were you kissing Miss. Sunshine? You're only supposed to kiss mama."

This isn't how Atla was meant to find out. Martin had a plan, he was going to tell her gently, let her have a chance to process everything and ask questions. Springing his relationship on Atla like this… Martin's stomach churns.

"Miss. Sunshine is…" Martin glances over at you. From where Atla stands, she cannot see Martin take your hand. He needs the support now more than ever. "She's my special friend."

"You're not supposed to kiss your friends like that papa." God, Martin might actually be sick. He hates everything about this. 

"No, you're right Attie- but Miss. Sunshine…"

"What about mama?" Atla blinks and Martin finally notices the tears in her eyes. He's up off the sofa in a second, reaching for her as his instincts take over. 

Martin cradles Atla's tear streaked face, "Mama is gone, søta. Remember how we talked about her being in the sky-"

"You're only supposed to kiss mama!" Atla stomps her foot. Her teddy falls to the ground and rolls a few feet away. Martin tries to hand it back, hoping she'll find comfort in the familiarity, but she pushes him away. "No! You're lying- mama is coming back! She's just away for a while!"

"Atla…"

"You're a liar! Løgner, løgner, løgner-"

"Atla please!" Martin doesn't like raising his voice with Atla, but he's desperate. "Mama isn't coming back, she's gone forever and I'm sorry but-"

"No! She's stealing you from me and mama!" 

"I should go," you murmur, and Martin's panic doubles. "I don't want to be the reason-"

No. No. Martin isn't losing you, not like this. 

"Atla, go to your room."

"Papa-" 

"Now!" 

Atla blinks, her lip wobbling. Martin hates himself. His daughter rips her stuffie from his hands and tears his heart from his chest when she scrambles up the stairs and slams the door to her room. 

"I need to leave. I shouldn't-"

"Please stay." Martin grabs your wrist, not caring that he's acting every bit the desperate child he feels he is inside. "Please don't- solskin please. I just need to talk to her-"

"Martin, I'm not coming between you and your daughter. End of story." Martin's heart cracks open when you peel his fingers off one by one until his hand hangs at his side, limp and empty. You wrap your arms around yourself to find some sort of comfort. "I won't break up your family. I won't be the woman who comes in and wrecks things, I just won't."

"Maria is gone," Martin croaks. He ignores the way his voice jumps an octave at the end. He needs you to stay. He's just gotten himself to admit he loves you, and now this?

"Yes, but her memory isn't. Clearly Atla doesn't understand what's happened, and that's not on you- she's a child, it's not easy for her to understand. But…" 

You trail off, blinking back tears. Martin wants to soothe you. He wants to curl up on the sofa with you, comb his fingers through your hair and promise everything will be alright. But he cannot do any of that, because you're pulling away from him. You're putting up walls, bricking up your heart faster than he can tear them away. It won't stop him from trying though. He'll pry away the bricks until his fingers are bloody and his nails are broken stubs; he needs you now, and he cannot let you slip away. 

Except…

Except. 

Atla. His blood. The one piece of Maria he still has left. If she doesn't approve, Martin is stuck.

Martin can't betray his daughter. But if he can only speak with her, he is certain he can explain things. Once she understands, then Martin can settle this mess and everything will be okay. 

"I'll speak to Atla in the morning." Martin's mumble breaks the silence with the grace of a rock thrown through the surface of a frozen lake. Martin's limbs tingle, like they sometimes do after a workout. His fingers open and close around nothing at his side. He can't bring himself to look at you, not when his entire world is shifting. 

"Don't. Clearly this isn't meant to be Mar. I'm sorry… I wish it was." 

Martin's entire body recoils when your lips meet his cheek. The split second contact burns like a brand of a love that was squashed before it had the chance to bloom into something beautiful. 

"Goodbye, Martin. I'll see you on Wednesday."

"See you Wednesday." It's his voice, Martin recognizes it, but it feels as if it does not come from his mouth. Of course he'll see you Wednesday, because he won't send someone else to pick up Atla. He doesn't trust anyone else. 

So Martin will do what he has always done: he will endure. He will fight through the now all too familiar agony of heart break and put on a brave face for his daughter. He will be the man who's only goal is to provide for his family, who wakes up each and every morning solely to put a smile on Atla's face. 

Once upon a time, Martin thought that was enough of a purpose. Now, as you walk out the door, he isn't so positive anymore. Martin is meant to love- but apparently he isn't meant to be loved in return. 

[minimoxha]

I see the light

Summary: After his wife and daughter died he thought he lost everything. However, you for some reason, you'd didn't disappear. So, Miguel locked you up. He had to find some way to protect you so you couldn't be taken from him like Gabriella. What better way to do that then keep you in his dimension where he could get to you in case of anything

Warnings: Cussing, Nothing really

Chapter masterlist

The first place Hobart brown took y/n was to paris france, in universe 3202. It was a peaceful spider-man with its spider woman being the loudest thing in there. He’d been to paris before, among a bunch of other places in his travels to find actually cool things. Paris was something on everyone’s wishlist, it was bound to be on yours. The both of you stood in an alleyway after teleporting. Y/n looking around in awe and touching anything she could get her hands on while Hobie attempted to hide his spidersuit.

“Where are we Hobie?” She asks, walking in circles, touching everything. It was almost line she was a toddler who had never been able to let her mind run wild. It was cute.

“This ‘ere’s called Paris, Mate” (bare with me i’m imagining this is how they talk bare with me here now). “We gonna do some things you might like before we go see the fireworks” Hobie responds, walking out the alleyway with her in tow, not realizing the looks people gave. However, there was still a problem with the whole plan.

“You never told me what you want as payment!” She said, making the man hault in his tracks.

“Tell yer dad to get off my ass for a bit, Yeah? That’s what my payment is.” Hobie continued to walk, putting his hands in his pocket and changing his posture to something that really wasn’t good for his back. Y/n didn’t care though , she was too busy looking at the scenery and the people.

She did stare for too long which made people give her weird looks back. Or maybe it was the fact that what she was wearing was a bit over the top. A cute purple dress with flowers, her favorite dress. Miguel had bought it for her one day. It could’ve been because she was wearing fat cow slippers that mooed every time she stepped. “You look like a tourist, try to look like you at least live here” Hobbie laughed before walking into a macaroon shop. Y/n followed intently. The smell of the maroons hit her immediately and she immediately felt her stomach drop. “Y’a hungry?” She nodded. Hobbie walked to the counter and ordered two ice creams macaroon sandwiches and then took the girl to sit down T the table.

With The first bite, she was taken by surprise. Her dad had never made these things for her, she didn’t even realize these things existed. Would it be to much to say this was the best thing she has ever tasted in her now eighteen years of living? Hobbie saw her from across the table, smiling as she enjoyed the four macrons she had. They were extremely pricy and he’d never just pay for random’l shit like that that he didn’t need. He had never donr that until now. He couldn’t resist seeing her smile again.

When they left the cafe, he was now listening to her ramble about the food. Yeah, it was a little annoying but he was glad he could give her his first experience. His heart started beating at the the thought of her getting a bunch of other experiences before tonight. “We can go see the eiffel tower next and then we can go to another dimension, would you have fun with that? Y/nnie?” He asked.

She felt herself get giddy at the nickname he gave her. She had never felt this way when she was called nicknames by her dad so why did she feel this way with him? She also realized how when he spoke, her pulse sped up and how handsome he looked. Was this a crush? When the ones she’d see on tv and they would have amazing pilot build up before they get married and fall in love. The thought of having a romance like they did in business propanol or Att woo made her so cheerful inside. Their relationships were so cute, something she dreamed of happening when she was finally let down from her castle. Was Hobie the one?

—

“Jessica, you need to go send someone to investigate the whereabouts of this anomaly. He’s been through five universes. We need five of the teens on the universes.” Miguel said to jessica who gave a nod and went to go call all the teenagers to go on missions. Miguel was determined to get whatever anomaly was this powerful and before they would rip themselves through this one and hurt everyone inside.

The anomaly was leaving every single universe they touched in shambles, there was no telling which one they’d get next.

—-

Hobbie looked at the alert on his watch, and choose to ignore it and continue to show the girl around the Eiffel tower. Whatever they wanted wasn’t that important.

Taglist:

@discowizard88 @fairycorequeen @onyxstarhigh06

[kathyprior4200]

New story/episode for your eyes first! Enjoy! (Sorry it took so long)

@tallest-marij

“The Mastermind”

Blitzo felt like a new imp. For the first time, he was being hailed as a hero, and texts from eager job seekers for I.M.P. were spreading like wildfire across his cell phone screen.

“Infernal News: Victory For I.M.P.! In a surprising turn of events, today’s live execution became the stage for a theatrical revelation! As Prince Stolas’ live confession revealed, I.M.P.’s CEO, Blitzo was being actively framed for illegal use of a Goetia’s grimoire by the upper-class prince. Following Stolas’ admission of guilt, the members of I.M.P. were released unharmed from the courtroom, making them the first Hellborn to ever survive after being sentenced to death by a deadly Sin, a historical feat.”

“HIRE ME PLZ!”

“NEED ASSASSINS NOW!”

“How do I join I.M.P?”

“Is that the real Blitzo?”

“You’re a legend!”

“Are you hiring?”

“I want someone dead.”

“Do you only hire imps?”

“Need your services asap!”

“Let me work for you!!”

Blitzo smiled as he stared at his phone. Blitzo froze and stood up as a solemn Stolas walked out of the bathroom, a towel falling off his head. Blitzo fluffed up a blue pillow and helped Stolas sit down. The owl was wearing Loona’s red and white paw print sweater she had given him. Stolas lay down and Blitzo covered him with his blue blanket decorated with horseshoes.

“Thank you, Blitz,” Stolas said quietly.

“Thank you, Stolas, for saving my life,” Blitzo replied.

“Always,” Stolas glanced tiredly to the side.

Blitzo turned to look at the window covered by the blinds. He paused.

“Hey, Stolas I…” he began.

But the owl was already asleep. A gray streak of hair stood out on his feathery black head.

Blitzo chuckled softly. He leaned down, brushed back Stolas’ hair and kissed him gently on the cheek. Usually, Blitzo had been distant with his affections with Stolas. After all, it wasn’t too long ago that Stolas was a prince with regular powers, seemingly out of Blitzo’s league. Stolas had made plenty of mistakes and it had cost him his powers and his daughter Octavia.

Still…he looked innocent lying there, humbler than before. He wasn’t perfect, but out of his love for Blitzo and Octavia, Blitzo could tell he was trying to make amends.

Blitzo sat back on a round cushion and smiled as he watched fireworks of yellow, red, blue, pink and green light up the night sky. “We Love Blitz!” was written on banners hanging from windows.

Blitzo had a feeling that they could find a way through this.

Stolas opened his eyes, finding himself surrounded by Blitzo’s various horse plushies. More horse figures were on display on shelves along with a poster of a flaming horse on its hind legs with “Believe in horse-self” written on the bottom in bold letters. Near a cutout of a smiling brown horse with “Loo-Loo Lame, you must be this tall to horse” on it, two smiling unicorns were dancing on TV with a rainbow in the background.

Stolas looked over to see Blitzo frying an egg at the stove. He wore black shorts and a white T-shirt with a black horse face on it.

“Good morning, Stolas,” Blitzo smiled. “Did you sleep alright?”

Stolas yawned and sat up. “Yes, I guess.”

He glanced at the horse plushies.

“Say, Blitz, I know you’ve liked horses for a while now. Any specific reason why?”

Blitzo’s smile fell slightly, and he turned away. “It…it was a long time ago. I’ve loved them since my childhood. Being able to ride on them at the circus was…”

He paused as he flipped his egg with a black spatula.

“…one of the few good things I remember from back then.”

“Oh,” Stolas looked downcast. “You…don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Blitzo shrugged and looked back at him. “Just a little quirk of mine.” He mentioned to a cabinet. “There’s some cereal in there if you want.”

Stolas stood up, scratching the back of his neck. “A-aren’t you gonna fix me breakfast?”

A pause.

“Well, I suppose I could,” Blitzo mentioned, eyebrow raised. “But remember you’re not royal anymore. I’ll help out when I can, but you gotta…ya know…” He moved his hand in a stirring motion.

Stolas sighed. “Start doing things on my own. Right, right. I’m sorry.”

He slouched over to the kitchen. “It’s still hard to get over old habits…”

Blitzo filled up his plate with eggs, bacon, and pancakes. “No better time to create new ones.”

Stolas got up, grabbed some Lucifer’s Loops cereal and filled his bowl. He sat with Blitzo at the small table. Stolas sadly munched on his cereal, while Blitzo chewed on his pancake pieces. He sipped his hot coffee from a white mug with flaming horses that read, “Yes I really do need all these horses.”

Stolas sighed. “I’ll admit, I do miss my old meals of roasted vole, fire koi and fresh kale salads…”

He trailed on, but paused at Blitzo’s look. “But…um…thank you very much…for this breakfast.”

“No problem,” Blitzo replied. “I can’t really afford any of those foods…but start at a new job and you can grab whatever you like.”

Stolas froze in fear, beginning to sob. “N-new job? Me, now poor?!”

Blitzo rolled his eyes. “Welcome to my world, birdbrain. Count yourself lucky you’re not living on the streets right now.”

Stolas groaned and face-palmed. “Auuurgh! Curse these old habits! Curse these old foolish fantasies of mine! I’ve tried to prove to myself that I could show I genuinely care about you, but…”

His voice wavered.

“…now I’m messing up again…”

Blitzo reached over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I think the best thing to do is to not focus as much about the past and start getting into a stable routine,” Blitzo advised. “We can worry about the other shit later. Just…keep the royal ramblings to a zero, okay?”

“O-of course,” Stolas said. He stared in disgust at Blitzo’s egg on his fork.

Blitzo slowly put the egg in his mouth, glancing back and forth, then swallowed. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “The egg. T-that’s like cannibalism for you, isn’t it?”

“Well, at least you don’t eat other imps,” Stolas mentioned.

Blitzo spun his finger, “Weeelll if you don’t count the one time I had with Mox and Mils…”

“Not at the table,” Stolas hissed as Blitzo smirked.

Stolas then glanced over at his cell phone.

“Rats were Via’s favorite snack,” he added with a sigh.

Blitzo looked at Stolas with concern. “Still haven’t heard from her?”

“Not a peep,” Stolas answered weekly. “I keep trying, but she never answers. Do…do you think she hates me?”

Blitzo walked over, holding Stolas’ hand. “Just because you haven’t seen her for a while doesn’t mean she hates you, okay? Maybe…she’s busy…” It hurt him to see Stolas so upset.

“But she’s always on her phone,” Stolas’ eyes grew damp. “Maybe she’s forgotten about me…like I forgot about her…”

“Or…maybe something’s wrong,” Blitzo wondered. “You know…maybe the royals have something to do with it?”

Stolas growled. “Andrealphus and Stella, no doubt. Gloating about keeping her away from me.”

Blitzo held out his hands. “Probably. Although…weren’t you banned from talking to her as part of your punishment?”

“Wait, h-how do you know what Satan and the royals did?”

“You were moaning about it during the walk back to my apartment, remember?”

“I guess not.” He narrowed his eyes. “I was too busy being slimed on.”

Blitzo sighed and let go of his hand. “I know you’re not the most…popular person in Imp City right now, but that’s no excuse to not go out.”

“Go out?”

Blitzo’s eyes brightened. “Yes! If you wanna survive for the next hundred years…which I unfortunately won’t…you can start by getting a job. Specifically with me at I.M.P.!”

Stolas sat up straighter and blinked. “Wait. Really? You’d do that?”

“Your book helped me get to Earth,” Blitzo shrugged as he stood up to wash his plate in the sink. “So I guess you’re technically part of I.M.P.’s foundation. And it’s not like anyone else will accept you right away, no offence.”

“None taken. But you’re right,” Stolas said. “I need to start somewhere.”

Blitzo took Stolas’ hands and helped him up. “Come on, let me show you around this hellhole.”

“Don’t worry,” Blitzo added as Stolas took a nervous breath. “It’ll be okay.”

0 0 0

Blitzo led Stolas down the street to an outdoor marketplace. Imp vendors and merchants were selling all kinds of knickknacks, tools and food. A male imp with white hair and purple overalls posed as he stood behind a counter covered with blood, meat and organs. “Authentic meat product” was written on a sign hanging from the top of his stand.

Stolas peered down at the meat.

“You guys eat this stuff?” he mentioned.

Blitzo shrugged. “This is Hell. We’re demons, what do you expect?”

The meat seller glared at Stolas as he passed by.

Another stand read “knives and shit,” at the top. Another imp sat at his stand with a sign that read “Please buy my stuff.” Another section had poisonous plants on display.

A muscular male imp wearing a purple tank top folded his arms at his stand. His banner at the bottom read “Foots and Va,” and his counter was covered with vegetables, carrots and pumpkins. An imp wearing a yellow shirt stood behind radios, keys, vases and antiques under a wooden sign with misspellings: “Things wot I found in other imp’s houses’s.”

“Imps and Sinners, don’t be wimps and dinners! Come buy our stuff!” one seller called out.

“Half off this collection of knives, good sir!”

“Candy for the kids! Free sweet THC sample with your purchase!”

“No rotten meat here! Taste my freshly cut slabs right from the cows in Wrath!”

“Check out my collection of genuine watches! Uh…a few of them do actually still work!”

“Come along,” a mother pleaded, trying to drag her little imp child away from the gleaming knives on display.

“Uh…I’m not really in the mood to buy anything,” Stolas mentioned as more of the vendors gave him ugly looks.

“Just ignore them,” Blitzo said in a low voice. “They won’t mess with you when I’m around.”

“Hey, fuck you, Stolas!” an imp called in the distance.

“Right back at, ya, asshole!” Blitzo barked back, facing the right before turning straight ahead again.

Stolas growled. “If only I had my powers back, I’d…”

Blitzo scoffed. “Turn them to stone? Yeah, no more mojo, buddy. Get used to it.”

Stolas then narrowed his eyes and mentioned to a small group of booing imps off to the side. “Care to explain that?”

Just then, one of the imps near the group held out her hands.

“Hey, hey, settle down, guys,” she said. “It’s common courtesy to get to know someone first.”

She walked over to Stolas and Blitzo, peering closer.

“Is…is that Blitz?” she asked.

Blitzo grinned. “Yes, that’s me.”

The imp smiled. She had long black slightly messy hair and on her head were small straight black horns with white stripes on them, and a red face. She wore dark sunglasses over her eyes. Blitzo noticed her black shoes, blue shorts and white shirt with a gold unicorn head on the front. Her long, pointed tail flickered with excitement.

“Oh, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Florence.”

She and Blitzo shook hands.

“I just wanted to say, what you did in the courtroom was very brave of you. I heard Satan can be quite intimidating.”

“Thanks. The red asshole doesn’t even care about us imps,” Blitzo glowered. “If Stolas here hadn’t saved me…”

Florence walked over to the side toward Stolas. “And you must be the Goetia prince.”

“Was,” Stolas admitted sadly.

“A royal saving an imp? I never thought that would be possible.”

“I did what I had to do. I’m just glad Blitz is safe and sound,” Stolas said.

“Such a courageous act of love,” she agreed.

Florence then looked around. “But I don’t get it. Blitz here is praised for his courage, but you…”

She gave Stolas a sad look.

“…you are shunned by practically everyone here. That doesn’t seem very fair, does it?”

Stolas looked downcast. “Not really. Though I probably should’ve realized how I treated imps…how I treated Blitz.”

“Hey, we all make mistakes,” Florence mentioned. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to help them trust you again.”

She gave Stolas another concerned look. “You have a daughter, right?”

Stolas nodded.

“I bet she really misses you.”

Stolas began to sob.

“Alright,” Blitzo waved his hand. “Enough with the sad talk!”

Florence held up her hands. “Sorry, sir. Just wanted to see if I could help your companion. I’ll just get down to business.”

She beamed. “I wanna apply for I.M.P.!”

Blitzo’s eyes lit up. “Ohoho! I can’t believe I have so many applicants now!”

“How do I start?”

“Just fill out the application form online, make an appointment and come by my office. I.M.P. HQ. We’ll test your use of weaponry and efficiency.”

“I don’t know the number…”

“Want me to show it on my phone?”

“You can just say it.”

“Okay. It’s 666-08432190.”

“Oh, thank you so much!” Florence said. “I look forward to meeting with you.”

She waved and began to stroll away.

“Wait,” called Blitzo. “Aren’t you gonna type it into your phone?”

“It’s okay, Blitz!” she answered. “I have a very good memory!”

Blitzo sighed wistfully as she disappeared. He posed with his fists on his hips. “Sure is great being an assassin CEO.”

Stolas watched the imps hustling and bustling. He let Blitzo continue giving him a tour of Imp City.

Later at a grocery store, the clerk bared his teeth in anger as Stolas cut in front of the line. Stolas put his basket by a box that read “rot your teeth,” a bottle with a skull on it and a cash register shaped like a monster mouth. Blitzo tugged on Stolas’ long, feathered tail with a nervous expression. He pointed behind him. Stolas glanced back to see a crowd of imps in line, standing by their carts, raising their fists and complaining.

At the laundromat, a sign above showed an imp in a superhero cape that read “Mr. Sudz: do your fucking laundry you lazy imps!”  Blitzo talked with Stolas who sadly sat on a washing machine.

Soap suddenly spewed out of the washer, covering the space in soap bubbles. A male imp wearing only underwear glared at Stolas from within the soap bubble pile.

At a diner, Stolas and Blitzo sat together and silently ate. “Pridiner, serving Sinners,” a mug, and a hot dog glowed in neon red lights against the walls. Blitzo picked at his blue eggs and purple sausages with his fork. On Stolas’ plate was a green-orange slice, yellow strawberries, two strips of bacon, pink berries, and triangle waffles.

Blitzo looked puzzled. “How can owls eat all that stuff?”

Stolas shrugged. “It’s Hell, I guess. All the food is mismatched versions from those in the mortal world.” He spotted a demon eating a ‘rot-dog’ and a bowl of ‘mice-cream’ at another table.

Nearby, a male imp with white curly hair and sunglasses sipped a cup of coffee at a nearby table. He wore casual black shorts and a blue shirt.

“Hey, excuse me, Miss?” he looked up as an imp waitress walked by.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Imps primarily come to this place, yes?”

“Indeed,” she said. “Also we’ve been serving Sinners here for years. Is there something wrong?”

“I think I can sense that someone unwelcome might be in here,” the imp mentioned. The waitress glanced over and spotted the tall slender owl. He was hard to miss. “Word spreads fast. You know what the Goetia are like these days.”

“Don’t worry,” the waitress huffed. “I’ll take care of it.”

The imp sipped his coffee again as she headed off.

The heavy-set waitress came over to Blitzo and Stolas. She had thick black horns with small white stripes. She wore an apron and had her thick black hair pulled back. She poured Blitzo a cup of coffee and with a mean smirk, spat into Stolas’ drink.

Blitzo and Stolas both gasped.

A male imp popped up from behind the booth, pointing and laughing at the stunned Stolas. In anger, Blitzo took Stolas’ plate and smashed it into the imp’s face. The waitress yelled and wrestled Blitzo to the ground. Blitzo and Stolas shoved the rest of their food in their mouths and raced outside.

0 0 0

“Well, here we are!” Blitzo smiled later as he posed by the door with “I.M.P.” painted on the door window in red. “Welcome to I.M.P.!”

He opened the door, and they stepped into the space, Stolas bonking his head as he entered. Moxxie and Millie had gone home, and the only occupant was Loona, sitting bored by her bone-shaped secretary phone. A light orange paw print-shaped lollipop was in one hand.

“Hey Loony!” Blitzo called. “I’ve got a new employee to show around. Let’s show him the works!”

Loona rolled her eyes and stood up.

Blitzo began. “You’ve seen each other before, but just in case…Stolas, this is my daughter, Loona. Loona, this is Stolas.”

“Hello,” Stolas chuckled nervously.

Loona did a small wave.

“Now Loony,” Blitzo began. “Stolas wants to learn how to secretate, so show him how it’s done.”

Loona sighed. “It’s literally this…” She mimicked a phone with her lollipop. “’Ring, ring, hello? I.M.P. Yeah, we can kill that asshole, wanna schedule an appointment? Thursday cool? See you then, dipshit.’ Click. It’s easy as sin, Blitz.”

Blitzo led Stolas over to Loona’s phone. “See, Stolas?” Blitzo said. “Finally something to help you out, something to do! And I can pay you for it!”

Stolas sighed. “I guess it’s worth a shot.”

0 0 0

“Hellexa…call I.M.P.”

“Calling Immediate Murder Professionals Assassin Business.”

0 0 0

The bone vibrated on top of the stand as the phone rang.

Blitzo looked at Stolas. “Oh, answer it, answer it! You can do it, Stolas, come on, answer the phone!”

Stolas took a breath and held up the phone. “Hello? I.M.P. You want to come over immediately. Immediate revenge? Okay then. Thank you. Good day.” He hung up.

Not even a few seconds later, the door burst open.

In stepped a new Sinner client, wearing worn blue jeans, black shoes, sunglasses, and a red T-shirt. His skin was white, and an array of screws were stuck in various places in his arms, chest, and legs. His hair was short and black.

“I.M.P.” he began. “Thank goodness I found you.”

“Whoa that really was fast!” Blitzo began, heading over to the client. “The fuck happened to you?”

“My name is Roderick,” said the client. “Just yesterday, I was killed by a heinous cult on Earth. They drove screws into my body and cut out my eyes!”

“Yikes,” Loona muttered.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Blitzo asked, raising his fists. “Let’s get this motherfucker! I’ll call Mox and Mils…”

Roderick held up a hand. “Actually, I’m only looking to kill the leader. Coincidentally, they sacrificed me to someone powerful.”

He turned to Stolas. “You.”

“Me?” Stolas asked stunned.

“Yes, I need your help alone.”

Loona looked up in surprise.

 Roderick continued. “I need you to head over to Earth, kill the leader and tell the members not to sacrifice any more people to you. For my justice, the least I can do is to have the entity they worship royally screw them over.”

“But…but I don’t have my powers anymore!” Stolas mentioned.

“You won’t need them,” Roderick assured. “They’ll know who you are by sight and show you some proper respect. That’s what you’ve been wanting, yes?”

Stolas slowly nodded.

“And don’t worry,” he said, interrupting Blitzo when he was about to say something. “If things get out of hand, Stolas can call you.”

Blitzo felt it odd to not go on a mission for the first time. But then again…

“Well…at least you’ll have your first mission experience,” Blitzo grinned to Stolas. “A great opportunity to prove yourself!”

“Are you sure?” Stolas asked.

“You’ve killed people before, right? Can’t be that hard,” Blitzo mentioned.

With a sigh, Blitzo removed his yellow Asmodean crystal from his wrist and gave it to Stolas. “Besides, the royals didn’t say you couldn’t enter Earth, right?”

“I guess not…”

“Then go on out there and shed some Sinner blood!” Blitzo cheered.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” said Roderick to Stolas. “We need to rehearse what you’re gonna say to the cult. Come with me and let’s practice real quick.”

“Oh. Okay,” Stolas grinned nervously. He glanced at Blitzo. “Is this part of the job?”

Blitzo nodded. “Good luck!”

Loona slowly sniffed the air.

Roderick held the door open for Stolas and he followed him before closing it.

Blitzo began playing with one of his many horse figurines when Loona abruptly slammed her fist on his desk, startling him.

“The fuck, Loony?”

“Blitz!” She barked. “Something’s not right.”

Blitzo folded his arms. “Obviously not. You’re hovering in my space.”

“No! It’s the Sinner guy! I smelled something off about him.”

“Well, your nose must’ve told you he recently died,” Blitzo countered. “They do tend to smell the worst when they first arrive...”

Loona groaned. “I think we should follow them.”

“We?” Blitzo asked.

“Yes, ‘we!’” Loona barred her teeth. “In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been able to go on any of the missions for months! I’m always stuck behind that stupid phone! Do you really think it’s a good idea to let Stolas do this on his own for the first time?”

“Um…” Blitzo paused. “It’s good experience? He’s still a Goetia.”

“One without his powers,” Loona reminded him. “If you want him to be independent, that makes total sense. But you know all of us at I.M.P. never go on missions alone.”

“But I went alone to kill that horny monster fucker girl,” Blitzo mentioned.

“Besides the point!” snapped Loona. “And though I don’t really know the owl, I still think we should help him.”

Blitzo stared back and forth between Loona and his toy.

“NOW!”

“Okay, okay!” Blitzo held up his hands. He followed Loona out the door. “Seriously, though, why do you think we need to worry about some client?”

0 0 0

Roderick led Stolas down the stairs, and they headed outside to the front of the I.M.P. building.

“You ready, Stolas?”

“Yes,” he said.

Roderick looked around. “We’d better head to Earth before the cult sacrifices another innocent victim.”

“But rehearsing…”

“Will be in a few minutes,” he mentioned.

“I don’t have my grimoire,” said Stolas. “We’ll need Blitz’s Asmodean crystal to travel there.”

“You have it, right?”

“Yes.”

Loona rushed down the stairs, holding onto Blitzo’s hand.

“Loona, can you slow down and tell me what the hell is going on?!”

“Stolas now, talk later!” she huffed.

“Then I’ll take it,” said Roderick. Stolas handed him the yellow crystal and he tapped it.

A portal opened.

“After you, your majesty,” Roderick smiled.

Stolas peered through the hole and spotted a grim cemetery before him.

“Definitely a fitting place for a cult,” Stolas shuddered.

Loona and Blitzo burst out of the building doors. Roderick glanced back.

“Wait, Stolas, we’re coming, too!” Blitzo called.

Without warning, Roderick shoved Stolas forward hard and stepped through the portal. Stolas cried out in surprise.

Loona gasped. “Look! He’s not a Sinner!”

Blitzo froze. “What?!”

An eerie sense of fear and familiarity raced through Blitzo’s veins.

“LOONA, LAUNCH ME!”

Blitzo slammed into Roderick at top speed just before he could close the portal. They both tumbled to the dusty ground in a heap. Blitzo leaned over Roderick. Blitzo gasped and spotted a strange purple crystal on Roderick’s wrist.

Blitzo looked over to the right and nearly shat his pants. With all his strength, he yanked the crystal from Roderick’s hand and tossed it back through the hole to Loona.

He looked back at Loona. “ONE STAR WONDER!” he screamed.

Roderick tapped his crystal, and the portal closed before Loona could make it through.

0 0 0

Loona paced back and forth in a panic, picking up the crystal.

“What kind of city is called ‘One Star Wonder?’” she thought aloud.

She quickly retrieved her phone and looked up the location.

“A haunted hotel on Earth?” Her eyes grew wide.

‘Wasn’t that the same place where Blitzo and Millie went ghostfucking over a month ago?’

‘And why in the world was a Hellborn demon leading them there?’

She took and breath and gripped the crystal. “Come on, please work,” she said, frantically tapping the crystal. “My dysfunctional…crew of a family’s in trouble!”

0 0 0

Stolas scooted backwards, dusting off his long legs. “What the…where in the world are we?!”

Roderick shoved Blitzo off of him…and flew full speed toward Stolas.

“Look out!” cried Blitzo.

Stolas dived out of the way and Roderick zoomed past his ear. Stolas kicked him with his long leg and his sunglasses fell off, shattering to the ground. Roderick whirled around and zoomed back at him, licking his lips. His eyes were mostly sockets, the rest, glowing yellow deformed bits.

“STOLAS!” cried Blitzo.

On instinct, Blitzo leaped in front of Stolas, hands in front of him. Dark liquid entered his head, and he soon collapsed.

Stolas gasped. “BLITZ!”

0 0 0

Blitzo breathed heavily as the world slowly came back into focus. Rusted chains held him in place on a striped chair. He struggled uselessly as he glanced around at an abandoned movie theater, covered with coral and seaweed growing on the seats. A projector blinked to life overhead.

Blitzo gasped in disbelief, panic beginning to creep in.

‘No, not again…it couldn’t be…’

“Oh, but it is, little one…” mused a spooky voice.

In the blink of an eye, a frightened Blitzo was met with a grotesque demonic face hanging upside down, leaning close to his. The figure wore long black pants, black shoes, a black undershirt and a purple hotel uniform vest.

Rolando spoke in an overly sweet tone that sent chills down the imp’s spine. “Did you miss me, Bethany?”

0 0 0

Footsteps echoed as two male figures entered the pool room of the One Star Wonder Hotel. They wore red janitor suits and rolled equipment into the room.

“Yikes,” remarked one of them, who was staring at the last of the electricity dancing on the water’s surface. “Sure glad no one’s swimming in this.”

“Indeed,” the other worker remarked. “Let’s drain the pool and get it in proper condition before the guests come in the morning.”

They began to drain the pool with a tube device. The water slowly lowered.

“What’s that?” one of the workers asked, pointing to Blitzo’s sizzled ghostfucker device.

“I don’t know,” the other answered with a sigh. “Probably some kid playing with the cleaning equipment.”

They carefully stepped down into the empty pool, scanning the area.

“Let’s get that thing out of here,” said the first man, mentioning to the device.

The second man froze, pointing ahead with a shaking finger.

“What? What is it?” asked the first.

“If you mean…THAT thing, I’m out of here!” he remarked with a shaking voice.

They stepped closer to what looked like…

“Yuck! What is that thing?” asked the first worker. “A dead alien?”

“Looks more like a fish?” pondered the second one.

“Some unfortunate sea monster that got in here?!”

“Dude, you are NOT making me clean that up!”

The first man grabbed at his co-worker’s collar. “You wanna send the guests into a panic and lose our jobs? I sure don’t!”

They peered closer at the gray scaly corpse, its vacant yellow eyes staring at the ceiling and slowly sliding out in black blood. The first man gulped.

“After you, then.”

They moved an inch closer when…

…its head rose forward and lowered with a sickening crack.

The men gasped and reeled back.

“It moved!” the second one cried.

Shadowy fingers yanked at the second man’s shadow, causing him to fall and slide backward. The first man grabbed the second man’s hands just as the monster’s claws caught the man’s ankles.

“ZOMBIE!” wailed the second man. “GET IT AWAY!”

“Hold on!” urged the first man.

The second man cried out as the monster managed to slowly lean forward and bite hard into his leg. A few strong bites and the man’s lower leg slid apart in a gory mess of muscle and bone.

The first man let go. “Fuck, no! I’m out,” he shrieked. He raced full speed and jumped up to reach the ladder at the side of the pool. His comrade’s screams faded as he reached the top.

He stared at himself and breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, that was close! I’m alive! I’m a…”

Seconds later, the man screamed as an invisible force from the monster knocked him backwards over the edge of the pool. He fell with a sickening thud on the pool floor, red blood spreading from his head and still body.

Back in the hotel lobby, black slime slowly poured from a vent in the wall and splattered onto the floor. The goo gradually molded and morphed into a human-like shape.

Toledo the Igor, babbled and drooled in his red bellhop uniform, his back hunched over, his eyes unblinking and his fingers misshapen. He swept the floor and paused when he noticed the slime.

“B-bitch?” he wondered in curiosity.

He crept forward as the goo dried and revealed a fallen man. He was wearing a torn red vest, tattered long sleeve gray undershirt, black pants and shoes. His pale white skin and mostly bald head were covered in burns and his dirty blonde combover hair was almost completely singed off.

The man groaned and stood up.

“B-Bitch?” asked Toledo.

He slowly turned his head.

Toledo yelped and stepped back.

The man’s eyes were mostly black sockets with black blood staining underneath. His sunglasses had been shattered.

Stumbling, Rolando sniffed the air, turning toward his assistant.

“Toledo,” he rasped with a cough. “You will not tell anyone about this!”

“Biiiitch?” Toledo asked, with surprise in his voice.

“Yes, I’m alive, barely,” he mentioned. “Those filthy lowborn imps almost fried me to smithereens!”

It was hard for Rolando to see, but he could still sense where others were by their thoughts.

“Bitch?”

“Who was there? You know, the blond Blitzy and Silly the farm girl?”

Toledo shook his head.

“Good. The less you know, the better.”

Rolando had only made it as far as he did, thanks to the fears of the two men he could weakly feed on.

“Bitch…” Toledo said again, gently tapping Rolando’s hand.

He brushed it aside. “Yes, I’m alright…I think. Don’t you have bags to carry?”

Toledo froze and blabbered again.

Rolando peered into his simple mind. “An unfortunate service boy born crippled, further experimented on by his own father, the previous hotel manager of this fixer upper. And all you can say now is ‘bitch, bitch, bitch!’ Almost no insecurities in your head at all! You’re lucky I decided to keep you to move things along…”

Toledo dragged a suitcase…very slowly, to the other corner.

“I need you to help manage some things for me, okay? Keep the guests at peace, don’t let anyone see me. In fact…”

He stumbled forward on his long shaking legs and thought…

‘I need to get back to Hell and give those little red freaks a good kick in the…’

“Argh!”Rolando cried out in a hoarse roar as he ran face-first into the blue “staff only” door. He groaned and turned his head.

“Hey, boy! I need this door open!”

Toledo babbled with his eyes sparkling as he drooled on a cracked picture in his hands of a kissing Blitzo dressed as Bethany Ghostfucker.

“Excuse me! Your boss is speaking. Open this door, now!”

This time, Toledo stepped forward…very slow steps…and inched his hand toward the doorknob. The door finally opened with a creak and Rolando shrugged.

“Bitch!” Toledo pipped up, hugging Rolando’s leg. He shook him off.

“You babbling idiot, I’m not your friend. I told you a million times! I have no friends! And no, no, I’m definitely not your dad! You’re just a sidekick…hell you’re not even that, you’re a one-word wonder! Now go clean every room in this place! Shoo!”

Toledo the Igor wandered off to clean the hotel some more.

Rolando sighed and headed into the dim room. He managed to avoid the desk, cabinet and the small meeting room. He stopped at a row of small square cubbies. He concentrated and hovering into his hand coming from his cubby was a small black box. He tapped it three times and it opened. In the box was a diamond-shaped indigo crystal…one from Envy that had allowed travel to Earth and throughout all of Hell by creating portals.

Rolando gripped his crystal hard like a lifeline as he shifted back to his aquatic demon form.

‘You’ll fucking pay for this, Blitzo!’

“Florence,” the imp at the coffee shop, and “Roderick” shared evil grins as they watched the chaos around them. The imps showing their hate for Stolas, the waitress tackling Blitzo, more imps arguing as a black Hellexa speaker was stolen from under their noses.

Blitzo’s thoughts were all too familiar and Rolando filled with hate every time he could sense him around.

Stolas on the other hand…was very easy to follow.

Stolas had lost many things in his life.

He had lived with an ignorant royal father.

He had been forced into a marriage that neither he nor his ex-wife wanted any part of.

Striker had almost killed him in the Wrath Ring mines.

He had been stripped of his powers at the trial.

Worst of all…Stolas had lost connection with his own daughter.

It was enough to make Rolando’s mouth water.

0 0 0

“Y-you’re supposed to be dead!” Blitzo cried out loud.

“Good to see you’re disappointed,” Rolando replied.

“How the fuck can you even see?!”

Rolando pointed near what was left of his eyes. “Just because I can’t see, doesn’t mean I can’t sense where demons are. Their thoughts never cease.”

He trailed a clawed finger down Blitzo’s throat. “You know…I was going to feast on the birdie buffet…but now that I’m inside you again…perhaps I can see how fast you can break before your boyfriend. You did try to kill me…now I’m just returning the flavor!”

Rolando chuckled darkly and lounged on his seat with a tub of popcorn in his hands.

“Let’s see what you’ve been up to while I was gone, shall we?”

The curtains opened and “3, 2, 1,” spun on the green tinted screen before memories flashed in front of Blitzo.

0 0 0

Satan spoke in a low rumbling voice, clenching his thick fist. “We are here to sentence the criminal imp…Blitzo.”

“A-actually sir, the ‘o’ is…” Blitzo began nervously.

Satan glared down at him and snorted close to his face in warning.

“Totally there!” Blitzo squeaked. “You nailed it, great job.”

Satan pointed an accusing claw at the other I.M.P. members.

“You and your crew are on trial for stealing a powerful Goetic heirloom for undocumented personal use in the mortal realm. How do you plead?”

“N-not guilty, Your Infernal Honor,” Blitzo replied in a shaking voice.

Andrealphus strode forward and shoved Blitzo so hard that he flipped over his stone stand. “This vile hideous imp has put his kind to shame! Committing such hardened acts to GAIN THE UPPER HAND AGAINST OUR NOBLE CLASS!”

Whispers and a few gasps echoed in the chamber.

“What a disappointment,” Satan remarked.

Satan turned to the Sins and the crowd. “Why don’t we take a vote? Who wants to listen to hours of testimony?”

Asmodeus, Vassago, and Beelzebub raised their hands, as did Millie and Moxxie. Loona reluctantly raised hers.

“Who wants to kill this imp bastard and go home for lunch?” Satan smirked.

Everyone else raised their hands.

Striker winked and grinned before being lowered down, tipping his hat.

Andrealphus gave Blitzo a smug smirk. “You should’ve stayed in your place, imp.” He walked down platforms of ice. “You see, this is what happens when lesser demons try to step out of line!”

Blitzo flinched as Andrealphus pressed his icy high heel into his forehead. He smirked again and vanished with a wave of his cloak.

Satan glowered. “For the treacherous crimes of stealing a Goetia’s grimoire for illegal use, bringing harm to a Goetic prince, and accessing the mortal coil without clearance or procedure…”

Satan pointed a claw. “…you, Blitzo, and your crew are hereby sentenced…”

Satan stood up, “…TO DEATH!”

Blitzo and his crew gasped in horror.

Satan continued. “…and due to your bold actions against the laws of Hell, your execution will be broadcasted across the Seven Rings, to remind all of imp kind why our power must never be challenged again.”

The ground rumbled and a half-circle execution block appeared in front of Blitzo. He struggled against his chains and muzzle.

“No!” Blitzo cried as two reapers appeared behind his employees.

“Not them, Your Highness!” Blitzo cried, stepping forward. “It was me, it was all me! Y-you can’t expect to teach anyone a lesson by killing all of us!”

Satan stomped forward and leaned forward. “YOU DARE TRY TO TELL ME HOW TO PUNISH?!”

The reaper removed the chain around Blitzo’s neck and steered him toward the execution block. The reapers released Moxxie and Millie and soon vanished.

“Do you have any final words, imp?” Satan asked as he sat down. “We’ll pretend to care.”

Blitzo blinked his eyes shut, tears threatening to fall. “All I was trying to do was rise above the stupid fucking place YOU ALL FORCED US INTO! Treating our kind as nothing more than dirt to stomp on! My people enduring mockery and misery for centuries…you should’ve known some of us would get tired of that shit!”

“Your Highness, please!” called Millie. “Blitz just…”

“Mox, Mils, stop,” Blitzo responded.

“We can’t let them do this to you!” Millie choked.

Blitzo looked downcast. “This big, red bitch, never planned on hearing us out. Just…”

Blitzo looked up at a sad Loona, his eyes growing wet with tears, he choked, “J-just take care of Loona for me.”

Moxxie cried, tears falling. “No! I can’t look, Millie!”

More chains manifested and latched onto a new black collar around Blitzo’s neck inscribed with the red Sin sigils. The weight forced Blitzo onto his knees. He took big shaking breaths as a menacing executioner with bloodstained black robes manifested a giant deadly black axe with red eyes on the blade. Flames glowed in the dark void of his face.

Moxxie cried into Millie’s arms. Blitzo slowly lowered his head onto the execution block. Loona whimpered and turned away.

The axe was raised higher. Blitzo turned his head to look at his crying friends. Millie bravely eyed Blitzo, letting him know he was not alone.

“I love you guys,” Blitzo whispered, tears in his eyes.

The axe came down…

Blitzo looked up, stunned to see…

“STOLAS?!”

The owl prince was back, manifesting a starry tear in reality, and blocking the axe.

“WHAT IN MY OWN HELL IS THIS?!” Satan roared.

Satan then sat on his throne, pointing at the imps and hellhound. “Release the pawn!”

The chain unlatched around Blitzo’s neck.

“Stolas of the Ars Goetia,” Satan growled. “YOU ARE A DISGRACE!”

Blitzo stumbled and raced over with an outstretched hand. “No! No, th…”

Blitzo grabbed onto Stolas’ red cape. “Stolas, you…you can’t! You can’t do this!”

Stolas turned away.

“Stolas, please!”

Blitzo found himself being dragged away by the guards. “GET THE FUCK OFF ME!”

He struggled from their grip. “Stolas!”

A manifested rope caught around Blitzo’s neck, dragging him back. His hands were bound in manacles.

“Fucking… use your powers! Do something!”

Tears spilled from Blitzo’s eyes. “STOLAS!”

Blitzo was shoved onto the ground, the chains vanishing.

“AH! LET ME BACK IN!”

The doors slammed shut, the glowing designs fading.

“Might I suggest something, Your Majesty?” Andrealphus grinned and slid over to Stolas on his ice slide. He lowered a finger and burnt away the chains binding Stolas’ arms. The reapers vanished.

“I think you should banish this shameful excuse for a prince and allow someone else to take over his legions. Considering the heir isn’t yet of age, I’d be happy to volunteer. After all, I’m everything he is, but NOT a deviant piece of shit!”

Andrealphus sneered next to Stolas.

“Yeah, that works,” Satan replied, standing up.

 “STOLAS!” Satan, announced with authority. “I HEREBY STRIP YOU OF YOUR STATUS, YOUR POWER, AND YOUR TITLE…”

 “…FOR THE NEXT HUNDRED YEARS!” Satan finished.

Satan conjured five magical giant golden rings, with the Seven Sin Sigils glowing on them in pink.

The rings lifted up Stolas, black electricity zapping around him. Stolas’ eyes turned black, and he writhed in pain. He could feel his power and energy being zapped away, all the magic sapped from his veins. The rings soon dropped him to the ground in a heap and hovered back into place, lowering out of sight. His royal hat and crown toppled away. His red cape was torn.

Stolas moaned weakly, his red eyes now having white pupils.

Satan added, “You will have to live amongst the citizens of Hell and revel in your own failings!”

 “But what about my daughter?” Stolas weakly asked.

Andrealphus bore a look of haughtiness.

 “She’ll be safe and sound…with her mother. The wholesome parent!”

Rolando smirked. “So that’s what’s been going on. The birdie gave up everything to save your pathetic little life.”

He gripped Blitzo’s neck, and he flinched. “It will all be in vain, I’m afraid. You’ll be a lifeless husk before Stolas can even reach you! HAHAHAHAHA!”

0 0 0

“Blitz!” Stolas shook him. “Wake up, wake up! Please!”

Blitzo unnaturally lifted himself up, his joints creaking, his eyes glowing blank yellow. Stolas gulped and stepped back.

Possessed Blitzo cocked his head, speaking in a distorted voice of Blitzo’s and Rolando’s. “Would you look at that? Stolas, the powerless prince all alone on Earth!”

Rolando flew forward with a mid-air twist and slammed into Stolas, knocking him back. Stolas dodged his fists as he scrambled to get up.

“How does it feel to fight with no powers, hm?” Rolando taunted, jabbing at him with his pointed tail. “To be kicked out of your family and scorned by the ones you most love?”

Stolas punched him several times in the face and tossed him to the ground on his back with a grunt.

Stolas raised his fist again, landing a few blows.

“Wait, Stolas, it’s me!” Rolando imitated Blitzo’s voice.

Stolas breathed heavily and paused. “Blitz?”

Rolando kicked him hard in the groin with his feet. He stood up and blocked more of Stolas’ punches.

“Whoever you are, get out of Blitz, now!” Stolas cried.

“Or what?” Rolando asked. He hovered in the air and lifted up Stolas by his long owl legs. He spun him around, cackling until he tossed Stolas into a nearby headstone, cracking it. “Bore me with royal lectures?”

Stolas groaned as he stood. Rolando rushed toward him and kneed him hard in the chest.

“Oh, how about this…” Rolando continued, his smirk growing. “You’ll try to be the hero and save Blitzo again. Or if you’re smart…”

He smashed Stolas’ head into the cracked headstone, the owl crying out in pain.

“…you’ll lay down your life now like you did in the courtroom.”

Stolas landed weak punches, which Rolando easily brushed aside. Seeing the hideous unnatural grin on Blitzo’s face was worthy of nightmares.

“What would your daughter think of you now?” Rolando leered. “Her own father foolishly abandoning her for a lowlife imp. So desperate for his pathetic pampered lifestyle that he’ll escape into romance fantasies, too sacred to share his true feelings.”

“Stop it!” Stolas begged, tears falling. Every flaw that was mentioned tore into his soul.

Rolando drank the owl’s tears with his long yellow tongue. “Oh, I’m just getting started, birdbrain. I should thank you for walking into my trap and providing me with such…delicious despair…”

He licked Stolas’ neck, the owl whimpering in response.

 “Now everyone knows you’re an incompetent…”

He punched Stolas hard.

“…selfish…”

Stolas cried out again as Rolando continued.

“…sex-craved…”

The owl sobbed and flinched, black blood trailing down his face.

“…shitty excuse of a dad!”

Rolando leaned back and laughed as lightning and thunder crashed against the sky.

Stolas groaned, barely able to keep his eyes open.

“NOOO!” Blitzo bellowed, sobbing and struggling in his chair back in his mind. Rolando grinned behind him as the screen showed long fingers gripping onto Stolas’ throat.

“My revenge has come at last, in a much better way than I expected,” Rolando laughed as he spoke. “After you watch your savior die by your hands…it’ll take no time to break you down once and for all!”

Stolas’ eyes bulged and his face began to turn blue.

Rolando leaned toward Stolas, his hungry mouth open wide. “Say goodbye to your daughter, your imp toy…and NOW YOUR LIFE!”

…

A portal opened nearby.

“Finally, I’m here,” Loona sighed. She glanced off and spotted the hotel in the distance. “Guess I’m at the right place.” She looked around some more and gasped. She spotted Blitzo by a large headstone…choking the life out of Stolas?!

Loona growled loudly and charged forward on all four paws.

Rolando barely had time to look before Loona shoved him off the weakened Stolas. She pushed him backwards until he flipped over her head, landing on his feet.

He leered at her and grinned. “Well, hellloooo there, fine little furry!”

Loona stared in disgust and a fearful shock. Whatever this thing was, it was clearly not Blitzo.

She raised her clawed fist. “The hell did you do to my dad?!”

She leaped forward with her claws unsheathed, but Rolando moved out of the way. She tumbled into the dirt before shaking herself off.

“Woof woof,” cooed a distorted voice from behind her. He grabbed her butt hard with his hands. Loona screamed and whirled around to swipe where he had been moments before. Rolando kicked dust into her face, and she coughed.

“If you’ll excuse me, bitch…” Rolando snapped, kicking her backwards so she slid on her back… “…I have a little birdie to feast on.”

Loona groaned and stood back up, her legs shaking. Rolando was already back by Stolas, pressing his foot into the owl’s neck!

“NO YOU FUCKING DON’T!” she yelled.

The hellhound jumped into the air again, landing in front of Rolando. He smirked and reached for her breasts, but a swift kick to the face sent him stumbling backwards. Loona looked with concern at Stolas, barely alive and badly beaten.

Loona turned around and grabbed Rolando’s arm hard as he tried to sneak up behind her.

“Get the fuck outta Blitz!”

She gripped his other arm and slammed him down on his back.

“Loony…” he mused in Blitzo’s voice.

She pressed her foot hard into his chest. “Shut up!”

Loona punched him several times in the face. Black blood trailed down his face and he cried out in distorted yells. He then began to chuckle, making Loona pause with her fist in the air.

“What?!”

“Such a temper you have, my dear. How predictable of you to beat up your so-called dad.”

“Get out of him!”

“Over my dead body…or should I say, his…”

Loona froze, glancing at her sharp claws aimed toward possessed Blitzo’s neck.

“Kill me, bitch. Go ahead. My rival and I will die together by your fuzzy hands!”

“D-Don’t kill him!” she stuttered.

“I’m already killing him…nice and slowly,” he sat up, licking his own blood from his face. “You’re just in the way.”

He stood up and they resumed fighting.

Rolando smirked. “Blitzo should’ve left you at the pound. You’ve been too much of a burden to him.”

Loona growled, trying not to let his words distract her.

“Hell, I’m surprised he doesn’t call you his pet. Would explain why you hardly go on any missions with your co-workers.”

He chuckled as he dodged her fists, Loona shaking.

“A grumpy goth hound doesn’t deserve any friends!”

“I have friends,” she growled. “Moxxie, Millie, Blitz, Tex…”

She punched him again. “Most of all, I have ME!”

She stomped on his foot before he swiped at her with his claws out.

“I don’t expect a slimy eel like you to understand.”

Loona stared at his broken eyes and then at the landscape around her.

Rolando mocked her again.

“Hey now, stick around! Once your friends abandon you, you’ll have plenty of furry fans to drool all over you!”

Loona barred her teeth, gradually becoming unfazed by his taunts.

With determination, Loona sprinted off to the side and leaned against a nearby dead tree, waiting.

Rolando charged at her at full speed…

Loona dived out of the way, the infestor demon ramming headfirst against the tree.

“OW!”

This time, Loona smirked. “Forgot you can’t see, bastard eel?!”

Rolando groaned and after shaking himself off, spoke in a distorted angry voice.

“Alright, mutt, no more playing nice.”

He twisted backward in the air and rammed his head hard into Loona’s stomach. She stumbled backwards with a grunt and Rolando tripped her as he swung his leg against one of her legs. She fell on her back. Wasting no time, he dug his claws into her arms, drawing black blood. He pressed his knees against her chest and opened his mouth to tear her throat…

BONK!

A rock hit Rolando square on the back of his head. He spun around and spotted Stolas weakly lowering his arm and falling on his knees.

He stared at Stolas with rage and confusion.

“YOU’RE DOUBLE DEAD FOR THAT!”

Before Rolando could move, Loona grabbed both of his arms and slammed him belly-first against the ground with a roll of her body. He roared in protest. She held his wrists in her tight grip and planted her large canine foot on his back. He struggled against her, but her Hellhound strength served her well in keeping him down.

Still, one false move…

“Stolas!” she cried. “Blitz needs you!”

Stolas moaned as he crawled over. Tears fell from his eyes as he stared into Blitzo’s empty ones.

“My sweet little imp…I know you’re still in there…”

“You’re never seeing him again!” Rolando sneered before Loona pressed hard against his back.

“Blitz…Blitz, can you hear me? Wake up…wake up, please!”

Blitzo gasped in his seat as the screen cleared. He could see Stolas’ face in front of him, his eyes filled with worry.

“Listen to me, Blitz,” Stolas said.  “Whatever that demon said to you, don’t let it get to you. I’m here for you…and so is your daughter.”

Loona lowered her head a bit.

“Loony?” Blitzo breathed in his seat.

“She’s okay. And I know you’ll be okay,” Stolas said, cupping Blitzo’s face from outside.

Stolas continued. “I saved your life in the courtroom. And I’ll gladly save your life many more times if I have to.”

Rolando growled from inside Blitzo’s head. 

“I love you, Blitz,” Stolas declared.

“I love you” echoed in Blitzo’s head.

“I love you just as much as Via. And I am honored to be able to spend time with you, even in my exile.”

The dark waters of Rolando’s powers receded more and more as Stolas’ words filled him with comfort and strength.

“You’re nothing, Blitzo!” Rolando roared.

“You bring so much to people’s lives…and you’ve brought so much to mine,” Stolas added. He pressed his head against Blitzo’s forehead, even as he struggled weakly.

Rolando hovered his claws ominously over Blitzo’s eyes. “Let’s see how an ‘eye for an eye’ works out for ya!”

Blitzo struggled and shook his head, focusing on Stolas and Loona as much as he could.

“Come on, dad!” Loona urged.

“DIE, BLITZO!”

“Blitzy, you can do this. I’m here…I’ll always be here!”

“Wake the fuck, up! Fight him!”

Voices pounded chaotically in Blitzo’s head…

…until Blitzo felt the gentle kiss from his owl companion being planted on his forehead. The chains binding Blitzo cracked away in streams of bright light.

Rolando’s hand lowered for the final blow…

Loona slammed down her foot onto Blitzo’s back.

Blitzo’s head lifted up, mouth open in pain. A stream of black goo exited his mouth, moving backwards into the shadows.

Rolando rematerialized and looked up…

…and let out a distorted cry as Loona pounced upon him. Thunder rumbled again as Loona mauled into Rolando’s chest, biting furiously as black blood splattered onto her face. She shook her head wildly and from her mouth, she tossed Rolando’s head away. It fell with a thud next to an exposed skeleton, expression vacant.

Blitzo groaned and shook himself out of the trance, his eyes returning to red and yellow.

“The fuck happened?”

Stolas sat beside him, moaning in pain.

Blitzo gasped. “Stolas, you’re hurt!”

“It’s…okay,” he grimaced. “Thank Satan you’re alive.”

Blitzo spotted Loona walking over and stumbled forward to give her a tight hug. Tears fell from his eyes.

“My sweet girl, you’re okay!”

Loona paused, eyes closed in both sadness and relief. Then she sighed and moved back. “Alright, enough sappy shit.”

“Sorry…for not trusting your instincts earlier,” Blitzo said to Loona. “If you hadn’t been there…”

“Yeah, I know.”

Blitzo held Stolas’ hand. “We need to get him to the hospital, stat!”

“On it,” Loona mentioned, reaching into her pocket and tapping the yellow Asmodean crystal.

Loona carried Stolas through the portal and Blitzo followed before it closed.

They were now in front of the same hospital that Stolas had been in when he had been maimed by Striker. Already, demons in black cloaks and bird plague masks lifted him up, carried him on a stretcher and left without another word. The doors closed and Blitzo was left with a dreadful sense of déjà vu.

“Should we go?” asked Loona.

Stolas lay peacefully in his hospital bed, an IV attached to his arm and bandages covering part of his head and much of his body. His phone lay on a side table near a vase of red flowers with eyes in the center.

Stolas slowly reached over and picked up his phone. He stared sadly at the screen, as he saw his old texts. Blitzo had not answered at all.

Stolas felt lonely again. He was going to be by himself, left to heal once again.

Then he looked up. Blitzo stood by his bedside, head lowered.

“You came?”

Blitzo nodded.

“Thank you, Stolas,” Blitzo said softly. “For saving my life...again.”

Blitzo lowered his hand and taking a breath, he squeezed Stolas’ hand softly.

Stolas looked at Blitzo, wide eyes filled with appreciation and love.

“Blitz, you took me in when I had nowhere else to go. You stopped the demon from entering in me. You already saved mine.”

“You’ll be here for me, right?” Stolas added after a pause.

Blitzo showed a small smile. “Always.”

They stood in silence for a while, thankful to be alive.

Two red flower petals fell and landed together on the table.

Before long, Stolas and Blitzo sat together on a couch back at the I.M.P. office. The door opened and Moxxie and Millie came into the room carrying boxes of lights and decorations for Sinsmas.

“Oh, hey Blitz, Stolas!” Millie called as Moxxie struggled to carry his load of boxes. “What’d we miss?”

Stolas, Loona and Blitzo shared looks.

They had one helluva tale to tell.

END

[theghostinmeisyou]

As it is pretty clear that "Price's Daughter AU" is going to win the poll, I thought it silly to wait the remaining hours before posting 1 of 2 fics I've written for this au (the other fic is gonna be a long one so hold on!)

So here you have it, Price's Daughter AU with Ghost x Reader smut

You hate big family gatherings, but on the 4th of July there’s no excuse to not come visit your dad’s yearly bbq fest where he invites the whole neighborhood and a few of his colleagues to come enjoy some cold booze, colorful fireworks, and the best goddamn barbecue in all of the US of A.

Already there’s a ton of cars parked in front of your parents house, which unfortunately means you’ll have to park further up the street, having to walk all the way back.

“Fucking, stupid…” You decided to wear the absolute worst heels for an event like this, but you like looking good, and the men’s attention isn’t fully unwanted either, up until the moment Price (your dad) tries to play matchmaker with you and Gaz. There isn’t really anything wrong with Gaz, he just doesn’t do it for you, and besides your dad intervening makes it even less appealing.

But you arrive on time, as the dutiful daughter, and walk into your former home.

“Hello?” you call out, and near immediately your mother, Betty Price, comes rushing from around a corner.

“Oh my darling daughter, it is so good to see you again!” She comes at you with open arms.

“Hi mom.” You accept the smothering hug and kisses, where your mom tries to wipe off the lipstick stains by licking her finger and rubbing your cheeks. “Mom, God! I can do it myself, just- doesn’t dad need you?”

“Oh stop whining, you’ll never be too old to let your mom dote on you some! But yes, you are right, I have so much to see to! Go upstairs and get settled in, then come help your dear mother, okay?” She squeezes your shoulders.

“Okay fine,” you say and roll your eyes, feeling like a teenager again whenever you enter this home, but it’s been 8 years since you moved out, you really should act more mature.

Yet you do as told, which isn’t an odd thing coming from an army family, and you walk upstairs and into the bathroom with a window facing the backyard. You look at yourself in the mirror, wearing a pretty yellow summer dress that is, in the right light, a bit too sheer perhaps, and your dad will undoubtedly comment on it, but it’s too late to change now.

While you’re trying to wipe off the red lipstick stains your mother left on you, you hear talking through the window.

“You really can’t go anywhere without that mask, huh?” You recognize the voice as Soap, and walk to the window to see who he’s talking to.

“Not really. It’d be chaotic if all the women got a glance at my face.” A different voice, British, and not one you’ve ever heard before.

The man in the mask is tall, buff as all hell, and indeed wearing a skull mask. Intriguing, could this be the famed Ghost guy?

“How will you expect to eat any of the food then?” Soap continues.

“Can’t go a whole day without eating!” Gaz says, and urgh of course he’s here already. “Hey Captain.”

Your dad approaches them, beers in hand as he offers them to his esteemed guests. Ghost accepts one but doesn’t do anything with it; how’s he supposed to with that mask on?

“So, where’s that daughter of yours?” Gaz again, inquiring about you.

“She’s upstairs getting ready, you know how women are.” And all except Ghost laugh at that.

You roll your eyes; you’re not getting ready! You’re trying to clean up after your mother’s barrage of kisses! But you won’t let a bit of misogyny get in your way of having a fun day. So you push your tits together, creating an even more enticing cleavage, fluffs up your hair, and out the bathroom door you go again.

“There she is! My darling daughter!” your father proclaims as you step onto the back porch, and absolutely everyone turns to look at you.

Embarrassed by the attention, knowing well you’re dressed in a manner that will leave the wives gossiping, you step down onto the grass and approach the gathering of rather handsome men - yes even Gaz is attractive enough, but he’s like a puppy to you, you can practically see the tail wagging the closer you get.

“Hey Soap, Gaz.” You greet them with a smile and slight wave.

“Darling, I don’t think you’ve ever met Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley here,” Price says and gestures toward the man towering above you.

So tall indeed that you have to look up to meet his intense, burning gaze.

“Ma’am,” he says, all gruff and low, and accepts your handshake when you extend your hand. “Firm grip.”

“Father taught me well,” you muse and feel kind of proud to be complimented on your handshake. “Here, let me take that for you.” And you gladly take the beer from his hand, keeping eye contact as you take a sip from it.

“Thanks,” he grumbles.

And those were the last words you two exchanged for several hours. You talk with the neighbors, with Gaz, your parents, and everyone else except Ghost. It’s not fully intentional on your behalf, it’s just that he never approaches you, a thing you’re so used to, and you might be just a tad bit shy against his cold and hard exterior, yet whenever you look at him he’s staring at you, arms crossed, standing close to Soap. Truth be told, the summer heat isn’t all that’s getting to you, it is unbearable being underneath his intense and burning gaze.

You hope he's thinking what you're thinking as you step past him, eyes locked together, a sly smile on your lips and you see it, a hint of something primal in his glare, it's as if he hates what you do to him, and you haven't even begun yet.

So you walk upstairs, into the bathroom you were in earlier, and stand in front of the giant mirror, waiting.

Not that you have to be particularly patient, as there's a knock on the door soon after you arrive, and opening it up reveals-

Ghost, nearly the height of the goddamn door, standing there quietly. He then steps in, doesn't wait for an invite and looks around, letting out a slight, "Hm," as if 'this'll do'.

He turns to you, meeting your inviting gaze, peeling off his gloves. "You want this?" His hand reaches down to grab at the outline of what looks to be quite the erection - quick on the draw, ain't he.

"Yes-

"Yes sir," he interrupts, "Say it."

Heat shoots through you, warming and wetting your cunt. Ghost looms over you, bringing a hand up to swipe his thumb across your parted lips. God you want him so so bad.

"Say it."

"Yes, sir."

He hums, pleased. "Good girl."

And if possible, that makes you even more excited, your pussy thrombin, declaring its need for attention now.

"Lift up your dress," he commands like he's on the battlefield whispering into a walkie talkie.

You do as told, pulling on the fabric, revealing your soaked, lacy, light blue panties.

"Take them off," Ghost grumbles.

Again, following orders like you were one of his privates on the battlefield. He extends a hand, waiting, and it takes you a second to realize what he's asking for, handing him your used underwear.

He sniffs it, taking a long, deep breath, and exhaling with a guttural, animalistic, "Harrh," his eyes now hungrier than before.

Then he grabs you by the hips, spinning you around so that you face the mirror, and bends you slightly forward, testing how far down you're willing to go without forcing you.

And you feel it, the head of his cock teasing your entrance, you can't help the slight whimper as you bite down on your lower lip to keep quiet.

Slowly he pushes in and for a moment you swear it won't fit, stretching your pussy to its limits the deeper he goes, your hands gripping at the edges of the sink, but God if it isn't the most incredible feeling you've ever felt. Barely has he moved and already you're on edge, dripping wet and wanting to moan out louder than you ever have, and you're no virgin.

Ghost grabs you by the hips, not so hard that you'll bruise, but with enough force to remind you who's in charge here. He groans out as he pulls out and thrusts into you.

You watch in the mirror how he looks down at where you swallow him whole, again and again as he sets a rather calm and collected pacing.

"Y-you can go faster," you utter carefully, eyeing the open window where everyone will hear you if you don't control yourself. "I won't break."

"But can you keep quiet?"

"Why?" You smirk. "Afraid Captain Price will hear his precious daughter getting pounded by someone she doesn't even know?"

"He trusts me."

"Clearly he shouldn't, seeing how you're defiling his only child."

"Stay quiet and I may give you what you want."

"Pinkie promise," you laugh and he smacks your ass hard enough to make you yelp.

And then he sets a faster pace, rougher and harder, making you whine with pleasure.

"Fuck that's good, so tight," he groans, eyes glued to where you meet.

With every thrust his cock massages every sweet spot inside your cunt, bringing you closer and closer, and you warn him,

"I-I'm close, haah."

"Show me that pretty face of yours," he says all deep and vulgar, voice thick with lust as he meets your gaze in the mirror, staring just as intensely as he had earlier in the backyard.

And you show him just how good his dick makes you feel, mouth wide open, eyes on him, a wonderful blush across your cheekbones, and you screw your eyes shut as you cum with incredible intensity, the kind that can bring tears to your eyes as you let out a choked moan to the beat of heat exploding in your cunt.

"God that's it, arrh, haha," he grumbles quietly when it's his turn to cum, fucking you vigorously so that your tits nearly pop out of your bra, pounding you to a point where you'll be wonderfully sore for a few days. And it must have been a while since he last came because he fills you past the brim, his cum dripping out of you and onto the floor while he's becoming flaccid inside your hole, and when he pulls out, you gasp, feeling how it all spills out and drips down your leg.

"That was… wow," you laugh and look at the floor. "I'd better clean this up before it scares someone to death."

"And I'd better get outside again so your dad doesn't get suspicious." 

But you don't want him to leave, you could honestly go for a second round, maybe even three, but you get it, this was a one time thing, as wonderful as it was.

"Yep yep, you better get going then," you say, avoiding eye contact.

He grabs you by the chin and angles you upward so that your eyes may meet.

"This was lovely," he says with that deep, baritone voice and heavenly accent of his, then leaves you weak in the knees.

After cleaning up real quick and waiting a moment for it all to flow out of you, you return to the backyard and to your smiling father, so proud of his daughter, and waves you over.

"Sweetheart, come here and listen to the hilarious story Gaz just told me!" he calls to you.

You pass Ghost as you walk across the lawn, but neither of you look at the other, despite the fact that some of him is still inside of you.

[sk1fanfiction]

The Butterfly Flaps [Ch 2. Excerpt]

“Albus.”

“Albus.”

He lifted his head, as the door shut behind the intruder, finally tearing his gaze away from the windows, where blue, red, and white sprays of fireworks lit up the skies on either side of the Eiffel Tower. The windows weren’t real, of course. They were far below the ground, in the French Ministry of Magic, which, after an unnecessarily drawn-out fight, was now theirs.

“I thought I would find you in here, moping as usual,” said Gellert, draping himself over a chair. He waved a hand at the windows, just as an azure starburst burst into the night sky. “This is all ours, now. And you’ll be returning home soon, to lovely, cloudy England.”

Albus said nothing.

“Ah,” said Gellert. He sat up straight. “So that is the source of the melancholia. What is it? Your brother?”

Aberforth. No, Albus hadn’t considered his foolish little brother in years. Decades, even.

“No.” He shook his head. “Just some… memories. And besides, I never heard tell of Austria-Hungary as a sunny paradise—”

Gellert cast him a slanting glare.

“—fine, the Kingdom of Hungary—”

“No, the Hungarian Republic.”

“Since when?” Albus let out a short laugh.

“Since last year — you must keep up with Muggle politics,” said Gellert, kicking his feet up on the desk.

“Why would I when I have you to do it for me? And get your feet down, you’ll scuff my desk. Truly, were you raised in a barn?”

Gellert arched an eyebrow, though, thankfully for Albus’s stress levels, he did put his feet down. When he spoke again, he was far more serious, placing a hand over Albus’s.

“Is it the prophecy that worries you so?”

Albus did not immediately respond. Normally, he would scoff at such things, but Gellert was no tarot-player or tea-leaf reader, but a True Seer. Anyone who had doubted him no longer did after the Muggle war came to pass; though Albus thought Gellert was enjoying the awed masses dubbing him ‘He-Who-Sees-Beyond’ a bit too much.

“Perhaps,” said Albus. After all, it was only a few weeks ago, that Gellert had gone into a sudden trance, body stiffening, eyes glazing over, voice alien.

Child, born of tainted water/To a beloved son and reviled daughter//Thus is forged the sharp sword/That ends the reign of the Dark Lord.

“If this sword exists,” said Gellert, smoothing a thumb over Albus’s hand, “when we find it, we shall break it. Think on it no longer. It will do you no good.”

“How do you know that for certain?” This ‘sword’ might as well be a needle, after all. Not for the first time, Albus wished Divination were a more exact discipline.

“I will think on it. Try to see further,” said Gellert, now stroking his chin. “But for now, it would do you good to remember that not all is as it seems. It may not even refer to you. You have never styled yourself as such. A phoenix, after all, is a creature of light…”

As if to punctuate that, Fawkes trilled a solitary, clear note, more like a celesta than ordinary birdsong. The patron animal of the Dumbledore family, and Albus’s chosen symbol. And yet…

“Still, it would do to be careful,” he said.

[queenofthursday6599-blog]

Mmmm Jinx AU where after being taken in by Silco, thinking she's been abandoned by Vi leads to her not latching on to Silco as the most important thing in her life who she must be loyal to above all else, but full on swinging into the direct opposite direction and becoming like Sevika.

[This AU is in part inspired by the idea of Jinx becoming more idealogically like Sevika, but also from OG Jinx's personality.

OG Jinx is a character who's primary drive is her own personal enjoyment and happiness. Which comes from building weapons, causing explosions of all kinds, and pranking Piltoveans.

Jinx doesn't go out looking to kill people, she goes out to to have a good time, and if people happen to die while she's having her good time, then that doesn't really concern her.

Like there's this one quote about OG Jinx that basically boils down to: "If Jinx found a box of firecrackers that had a person sitting on top of it. She'd light the fireworks without even thinking about the person on the box because she was so focused on her excitement about fireworks, that she didn't even notice the person."

OG Jinx has prioritized her own personal enjoyment over everything else, that people potentially dying as a result of whatever she's doing is so completely irrelevant, to the point of her being effectively unable to perceive the potential collateral damage.

It's not even that OG Jinx wants to kill people, or enjoys killing people, it's just that people dying while she's doing what she loves isn't even a linked phenomenon in her brain. Because people (who die) are going to die eventually with or without her actions, so why shouldn't she enjoy herself even if people happen to die while she's doing so.

Jinx's loyalty to Zaun is prioritized in the same way in this AU. People are going to die with or without the revolution happening, so they might as well have the revolution.]

Loyal to the dream of Zaun over any individual leader.

I mean, she still comes to love Silco as a father figure, and he still comes to love her as a daughter, but also much like with Sevika, they're both fully aware that if Jinx ever comes to the conclusion he isn't the person who's the best bet for securing Zaunite independence, she'll abandon his gang and possibly go elsewhere.

Or even more so, if she comes to the conclusion that he's worse for Zaun than he is good, possibly kill him herself.

Which I feel like wouldn't stop him from loving her more than anything else.

I think he'd just consider it another aspect of her that makes her the ideal Zaunite. The ability to put The Cause even before her personal feelings and attachments, something he's still not able to do.

Basically this Jinx thinks of her loyalty to Zaun and her personal love for individuals in her life as entirely disconnected to each other, with Loyalty to Zaun being her default.

Which adds a number of complications to her relationships. Specifically her being totally unafraid to fight to the death against her loved ones without an ounce of remorse, and then thinking of it as a complete non-issue in the aftermath if they both survive.

Like she fully still considers Ekko her friend by the time Vi gets out of jail in this AU. Full on "We try to kill each other on alternating Thursdays, but that's no reason to stop being friends" feelings.

Which also results in her not feeling an ounce of shame in helping him and the Firelights out when it comes to basically anything they do that isn't in direct opposition to SIlco.

I mean, the Firelights are also working towards bettering Zaun just like she (honestly believes) is, they just have different opinions and methods of how to do so from Silco's gang. While also serving different parts of the community.

[And yes, Ekko and the rest of the Firelights have complicated feelings about Jinx in this AU. None of them know where she stands with them.

She'll help them without expectations one day, and then turn around and kill some of them in a confrontation without an ounce of hesitation the next.

Some of them hate her, some have mixed feelings. Others just think she's completely mentally unstable, and shouldn't be trusted considering she seemingly flips between being ally and enemy with no warning.

Ekko's feelings are especially complicated, as you can imagine.]

None of this is to say Jinx doesn't feel just as deeply about the people she loves, as she does in canon. It's just that trauma has convinced her that unequivocal loyalty to an individual vs an idea is a very easy way to be hurt.

Detached logical decision making as a way to avoid being harmed by making emotional mistakes. Which is what she feels is why she failed so much as Powder.

The belief, that she was so obsessed with gaining approval from individuals in her life, she never had a real personal goal to strive towards that she could measure progress and growth to. Resulting in her always feeling like a failure, even when she was doing good, or at least improving.

She's still deeply hurt by Vi choosing Caitlyn over her (as far as she could tell), the Firelights taking Vi, and her accidental killing of Silco while spiraling in the wake of her Shimmer surgery. She's also extremely frustrated by her freak out on the airship where she shoots Eve (pink haired Firelight).

Because she feels like those are instances where she gave into the impulse to emotional over reaction to specific individuals that caused all of Powder's problems.

She was so focused on Vi, and her desire for Vi's approval, that she couldn't fight the Firelights as effectively as she normally would.

She was so focused on Vi seemingly leaving her to go off with Caitlyn that she couldn't focus on fighting Ekko on the Bridge, resulting in her getting far more injured than she normally would have, and nearly not succeeding in getting the crystal back.

She was so triggered by thinking she was seeing Vi on the airship, that she completely lost it and started shooting indiscriminately and caused the job to go south and injured people on her own side.

She was so caught up in her spiral and hallucinations at the tea party, that she shot Silco based entirely on instinctual protective instinct when hearing the hammer being drawn on a gun on her vulnerable loved one, rather than anything intentional on her part. Which she'd previously had always sworn would be the case should it ever come to her killing Silco.

That if Jinx ever killed another of her loved ones, it would be because she knew with certainty it would result in the betterment of Zaun, not because she made a mistake because she was being an over emotional idiot.

I think the only major change from this Jinx's actions in the Season 1 part of the story would be how she went about stealing the Hexgem, and why she did so.

In canon she does so because she failed a job, and felt like she needed to do something big to prove to Silco that she was capable, in order to gain validation from him that she was. Even though he never tells her he doesn't think she's capable, just that she needs to take some time off because she had an episode.

He said "take a mental health day, even if you don't think you need it," and she responded, "so you think I'm a fuck up?!"

In this story. it's more that Jinx is so focused on what she could potentially do with Hextech to help the revolution and Zaun as a whole. That she was already planning to steal some research notes and crystals to get experimenting with it on her own terms, before the job gone south, and the new advancements in Hextech being whispered about for progress day.

Getting her hands on the newest form of Hextech is just her getting lucky.

This also means she doesn't steal it the same way. She doesn't do anything to kill any Enforcers, but she does cause a distraction with what seems to be a box of fire works going off prematurely on "accident".

With her swooping in to steal the notes and hexgem while everyone's busy with trying to contain the panic the fireworks accident is causing to really pay attention to what she's doing.

Which the Enforcers do react to, but everyone but Caitlyn disregards as an accident. As once it's clear that nothing other than a few decorations got ruined and people getting startled came of the fireworks incident.

They're far more concerned with the stealing of hextech that's happened, and Viktor's testimony of a young woman with long blue hair sneaking out of their lab.

With the fireworks incident being dismissed as an accident that's completely unrelated to the burglary of the Hextech lab. Beyond the burglar potentially using it as a convenient opening.

Caitlyn's not convinced, and it's already happened so close to the airship shootout incident, so she still goes down and ends up freeing Vi from Stillwater with some of Jinx's drawings as evidence, from the airship shootout.

Which does mean that her trajectory in the Season 2 part of the story would be a bit different.

She still goes into a depression after Silco's death. Mostly because she feels that she's broken her most important self imposed rule: not killing because of personal feelings about someone, but for The Cause.

She killed Silco not because she felt killing him would make things better, but because she was scared and spiraling and in that vulnerable emotional state, she defaulted to the same way of thinking that had gotten her loved ones killed the last time.

She protected Vi who she loved, and couldn't defend herself, based on gut instinct. And it resulted in the death of another loved one, and the complete destabilization of Zaun.

Now because Jinx is more focused on Zaun than on her personal relation ships, I don't know if she fires on the Council immediately after Silco's death the way she does in canon. I don't really think she would.

I could see her doing it because she's still in the peak of the Shimmer high, which is heightening all her emotions. Driving her to seek revenge on Piltover in her grief. Even though if she could think more clearly, she wouldn't do it, and would instead wait to gather an actual following and doing an organized and planned strike to be the most effective.

But I could also see SIlco's death snapping her back to reality as she sees it. That she simply takes the gem, her guns, and Silco's body and Disappears, vanishing into the night with neither Vi or Caitlyn knowing of the weapon she's built or what she's going to do next.

Which could have interesting repercussions on the story. Considering Piltover's council would to have agreed to Zaunite independence on the conditions of handing over Jinx.

Except the man they made that deal with is now dead, no one (except Sevika) knows where Jinx is to hand her over, and the Undercity is and of itself divided on handing one of their own over to Piltover (to potentially be executed, because of how dangerous Hextech can be, and a lot of the counsel fully thinking Zaunites are inherently dangerous, not to mention thanks to Caitlyn, Jinx is a known weapons builder, so what else do they think she'll do with access to Hextech other than build weapons) in order to gain independence.

I'm sure the chem barons would have no issue handing JInx over, because then they'd be free to divide up territory and completely take over with no one like Silco holding their leash, or PIltover dictating what is and isn't legal on their side of the river in the first place.

Oh the Firelights would be around to oppose them, but they'd never really were able to gain any ground beyond causing problems for Shimmer production.

But I'm not sure how more ordinary people would react.

I mean, in this AU it's pretty well known that Jinx holds the idea of Zaun above anything else, and was willing to help people who weren't affiliated with any specific group, as long as doing so wouldn't harm the independence movement of Zaun.

She's not really shy about expressing that stance, it's just up to everyone else to believe it or not.

Jinx, who would use her high position in Silco's circle to help ordinary Zaunites. Be it from one of the gangs overstepping and trying to start rackets Silco had forbidden, from unjust arrest from Enforcers, or even pointing them in the direction of the Firelights if she thought that was for the best.

Declaring that so long as the help she gave random people didn't harm or slow the march towards independence, helping her fellow Zaunite was helping Zaun, was part of the fight toward an independent Zaun.

She's the Loose Canon, shooting for Zaun and no one else. Loyal to no kingpen or Chembaron, but to The People of Zaun as a whole.

She has a bit of a following even without firing on Piltover or turning the Grey back on them. She's a bit of a living folk hero to some people, especially those she personally helped out of a bad situation, for no reason other than "I could, and doing so doesn't hurt anyone else. So why wouldn't I?"

Not to mention I definitely feel like Jinx would be way more intentionally politically educated in this AU than she is in canon.

JInx as she is in Arcane, never really gave a shit about Zaun's independence beyond what it meant to Silco (and later Isha), and she very obviously never bothered to learn anything about politics. At least nothing Silco didn't force her to learn.

But with Jinx's primary drive being Zaun, I feel like she'd definitely be way more politically minded, and while I do think she would consider turning herself over to Piltover to secure Zaun's independence (in a direct parallel of Vi's willingness to hand herself over to get the Enforcers to leave the Undercity alone to keep her family safe).

I don't think Jinx would actually go through with handing herself over.

Not with the Undercity being actively torn apart by gang disputes in the wake of Silco's death, no way of ensuring Zaun's prosperity after handing herself over, and no way of securing actual tangible betterment of conditions in Zaun even with Zaunite independence.

I mean from what we're told, Piltover's offer of independence was essentially cutting the Undercity loose.

Stopping their dumping of industrial waste into Zaun's water supply, ceasing utilizing of Zaun's air duct and water system for the climate control of Piltover's Hexgate system, release of Zaunites from Stillwater (or at least transfer to Zaunite custody)), and the Kiraman family handing over control of the vents that suppress The Grey over to someone from the Undercity weren't anywhere in that deal from what we're told.

[I don't think everyone on the counsel would have agreed to it if it was, they're all complete capitalists, no matter if some of them value sapient life more than others (Mel, Cassandra) on a conceptual level.

I believe the ones who outright hate Zaunites (which some of them clearly did) would have staunchly opposed if it meant having to alter how they actually approached how they ran their businesses, vs just cutting Zaun loose.

Hell I think those councelors would have gotten even more lax with their business regulations. I mean, Zaun wouldn't have been part of Piltover, and their citizens not their legal responsibility any more.

So why should anyone from Piltover worry about them dying? The trenchers wanted independence and if they can't survive without Piltover's support, how's that anyone's problem but the trenchers?]

It was, if you hand over Jinx, we'll legally make you not our problem any more.

Which I don't think a politically educated Jinx would go for. It would just leave Zaun to the messy power struggle that appeared because of the power vacum caused by Silco's death. None of the Undercity's actual problems would be solved, besides Enforcers no longer being able to harass them.

So the Zaun Piltover conflict would stay more political and less outright invasion than it is in canon as a result.

[fancoloredglasses]

Trouble Identity (I'm shocked no one tried this before)

[All images are owned by DC Comics and Filmation. I promise I'm too poor to sue]

[Thanks to Batgirlspain for the inspiration]

The classic misdirection play is to pin the blame of a crime on another while you reap the benefits of the crime (and enjoy some popcorn while the fireworks ensue) There have been a few instances in animated superhero shows where this occurs, including an episode of the 60’s Spider-Man series…and this one from The New Adventures of Batman. If you would like to watch the episode, it’s available on Dailymotion or behind your favorite paywall.

We open with Bruce Wayne driving his ward Dick Grayson and (for some reason) Barbara Gordon to a remote location outside Gotham City. Barbara isn’t exactly sure either, but they soon drive up to an old house. When suddenly…

No one is exactly sure why a cat is meowing this far out. Maybe there’s a colony of ferals?

Bruce and the others are let into the house, while outside…

Gee, I wonder who that could be…

Bruce's group is brought to a lab, where they meet…

Professor Norquist, who shows them his latest invention.

First, he dumps ordinary trash into a disintegrator (that alone would be an amazing invention! Break down waste into smaller pieces that didn’t need to go to landfills!) and the pieces go into another device (which Norquist calls a “matter converter”) that produces…

…silk

…or wool

…or fur! Or any other fabric!

Suddenly, in mid-demonstration, the lights go out and the matter converter is stolen! The lights come on to reveal…

Wait…HOW?

Batgirl manages to escape while Bruce leaves the mansion (the fact that Batgirl slashed his tires didn’t help matters any)

Needless to say, Commissioner Gordon (and especially his daughter) can’t believe it! However, Gordon puts out an APB for Batgirl. He also gets on the Batphone.

Ummm…

QUICK NOTE: In this series, Alfred is not part of the cast. So who’s going to pick up?

*sigh…*

Bat-Mite tells Gordon he’s on the case, then immediately jumps on the Batcycle and takes off!

…sorta. Actually, he’s just doing laps around the Batcave, barely hanging on for dear life! (why doesn’t he just teleport away?)

At Gordon’s office, Bruce, Dick, and Barbara make flimsy excuses and leave to change into their evening wear.

Elsewhere in Gotham…

Oh, like you didn’t guess that “Batgirl” was Catwoman in disguise!

Catwoman plans on using the matter converter to get rich selling exotic fabrics.

Back at the Batcave, Bat-Mite is still out of control on the Batcycle, but Batman manages to net the cycle and put a (brief) halt to the chaos.

Once again, Batman benches Bat-Mite (yeah, like that will keep him out of trouble) and then he and Robin get to work. After some clever (if roundabout) deduction, they figure it out.

About that time, Catwoman contacts Batman (how does she have his number?) to taunt him.

Catwoman explains that she lured Batgirl to a location that she tipped the GCPD toward.

Batman then uses the tracer on Batgirl’s cycle to find out where she is, then off to the Batcopter! But as they approach Batgirl’s location…

…Catwoman launches a remote-controlled missile! Batman uses an image projector to send the missile on a wild goose chase until it explodes harmlessly over Gotham Harbor.

Inside the warehouse Catwoman sent Batgirl to…

…she finds a ton of fabrics made by the matter converter.

Unfortunately, the police find her! Batgirl flees to the roof and throws a Bat-line to slide to the next building, but…

Oh, you knew he wouldn’t stay benched!

Unfortunately, the extra weight of Bat-Mite is enough for the gutter to which the Bat-line is anchored to come loose and start to collapse!

Fortunately, Batman arrives just in time to haul them to safety. Batman promises Commissioner Gordon to take Batgirl to GCPD HQ... but neglects to mention a quick detour to nab Catwoman. But where would she be? She would need to unload all of her fabrics as quickly as possible.

That would do it!

Inside the Gotham Convention Center, Catwoman watches as the money rolls in.

Catwoman orders the matter converter to be turned up to full, but that overloads it and now it won’t shut off!

Outside, Batman and Batgirl leap from the Batcopter to the roof of the Convention Center as…

I don’t think they thought this through.

Catwoman is distracted from piloting her escape craft due to being crowded by runaway fabric (they could stop feeding it disintegrated trash. I mean, it has to run out of raw materials eventually, right?) So she doesn’t notice that…

Unfortunately, the matter converter was ruined by Catwoman’s greed.

Ya think, Gordon? You shouldn’t doubt the integrity of the Terrific Trio!

…great

[a-trying-writer]

(original story ft ara and os. unfinished.)

As soon as the drums began to roll, the metal brass section blared out, followed by cheers and yells. Then the party began, and Osiris found himself surrounded by people dancing along to the music. He felt rather awkward to mingle with the locals, until Ara bumped her hip against his playfully.

"If you're uncomfortable, we can go somewhere else!" she offered.

"I... Well..."

"It's fine by me, Os, really." She took a hold of his hand. "I've heard there are some places that are much more quiet than here. Like the hills! We can see the lights of the city up there."

"I-is that so? I'd appreciate it, Ara." Osiris gave the half-daemon an awkward smile, before being gently pulled along through the crowd. He nearly let go of her whenever someone bumped into them, but keeping up with her has become rather easy for him after traveling her all this time.

The hill was a little ways away from the center of the town, but Ara was right, it had a beautiful view of the area, and the colorful lights blinking throughout it. It was a sight to behold.

Ara took off her robe to place it down on the grass to sit on it, then signaled Osiris to do the same. He never really liked the fact that Ara isn't afraid of dirtying up that beautiful robe, but given how it can remake itself does make him worry a little less about it. Once he sat beside her, he stared out at the city. "It's beautiful... Is there more places like this out there? Where they have parties this big?"

"Oh yeah," Ara responded. "In some parts of Rios there are celebrations in honor of our dead loved ones. As sad and morbid as it sounds, it's much more livelier than you'd think, pun not intended."

"I think I've heard about that before... I kind of wish to witness that for myself..."

"I promise you will. Is Bijou any different?"

"Only for certain holidays, but we don't always host these parades or anything. Some places can put up decorations but that's about it."

Ara blinked in surprise. "Really? I'd though Bijou would be fancier, given how big of a deal that place tends to sound."

"After our travels in Rios, I'd like to take you there. Maybe you'd like the food there, and you could meet with my family. My father would love to hear all of your travels, and you may enjoy some of the baked goods my uncle tends to make in his bakery."

"You have an uncle?"

Osiris turned to her with a perked brow. "I didn't tell you?"

"No!"

"Oh, well... I have an aunt and uncle from my father's side. I don't know anything about my mother's siblings, if she had any... Anyway, my aunt is a business woman, while my uncle is a baker. I used to help my uncle out a lot when I was a teenager, kneading dough and decorating cookies and such. It was fun, but since I had college, I couldn't help out anymore. Maybe his daughters are helping him out now, since they might be old enough..."

"Married?"

"No, he isn't. I don't know the details of his relationship, because it was never really my business. I think they had a friendly bond however."

"I see." Ara paused.

Osiris could see her brows furrowing, making him chuckle. "Maybe you can figure out the details yourself if you ever meet them."

"I'd like to," she replied immediately, unashamed of her nosiness. Typical Ara, Osiris thought.

When the first firework exploded, the two turned their attention towards it.