tonixaly

[cutemothman]

The X-Files

3.04 "Clyde Bruckman's Final Repose"

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Alastor - [ DEVOTION Pt. 6 ]

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Blame my obsession with K-dramas for how dramatic this last angsty part is. Also, to be clear, I do know some of you head-cannon Alastor as a ‘charismatic psychopath’ because of the way he acts in the show but personally I see him as more of a ‘dynamic sociopath’ while he was alive. I’m telling you this because I know authors tend to depict their faves so out of character just to progress the plot of their stories without any logical reasoning behind it. I am not that type of writer and therefore I don’t think my perception of (Human) Alastor is strange. Anyways, enough from me. Let’s get back to our regularly scheduled broadcast shall we?

WARNINGS: [ MDNI ] + [ MENTIONS & DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD / HORROR ] + [ PREGNANCY TROPE…it’ll be over soon I swear…] + [ IMPLICATIONS OF A MISCARRIAGE ] + [ DESCRIPTIONS OF A DEAD BODY ] + [ HEAVY ANGST ]

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On a cozy November evening, the Garden District of New Orleans bloomed with life. Its magnificent houses and mansions stood tall in the late-day sun, and the woeful winter breeze passing through the dazzling neighborhood rustled the greenery lining each home.

Many of the Jazz City’s locals regarded the area as an affluent attraction for outsiders to gawk and marvel at, while those who resided there took pride in its beauty.

You considered yourself fortunate to be a part of such a gleaming community, living a subtle life of luxury due to Alastor's wild success, but not entirely involved with other well-kept wives of similar influential figures.

Socializing had never been your forte; though it was required of you in mannerable situations, the constant exchange of loose friendships with strangers never entirely appealed to you.

Although, being married to a renowned public figure with an image to uphold puts you in compliance with the aversion.

Parties, local events, and even headlining musical performances became your routine social appearance.

Alastor was immensely proud to have you on his arm, charming the masses with your soft approach, swooning the newspapers with your angelic appearance and kind public gestures.

You did your best to make a lovely impression on anyone you encountered, wordlessly adhering to Alastor’s commanding ego and polishing the rough edges of his public image with practiced selflessness.

Few knew you personally, and even fewer saw you as a socialite.

Sure, you'd been polite to anyone who passed on the street, made small talk with neighbors, did charity work for those who thought to ask, and even donated effort towards Rosies spontaneous book club meetings every other weekend -though they were thinly veiled gossip sessions she'd orchestrate with fellow homemakers.

There wasn't a single person you could call a 'friend' who wasn't already close to your husband…

How Rosie had managed to crowd her stunning home with so many familiar yet strange faces, claiming to be precisely that -your friend- baffled you in more ways than one.

Yes, these people were acquaintances and admirers to some degree, but your friends?…

You had none besides Alastor, willing to remain by his side in matrimony just as you had from the moment you met him, reluctant to make any other connections since your shared childhood.

It didn’t help that Alastor developed a habit of scaring away new acquaintances behind your back and even resorted to violent acts of service to keep other suitors at bay before your shared vows.

As a result, the happy faces you saw now felt fabricated; every congratulatory remark didn't resonate with your heart, and the more people that arrived to celebrate you and Alastor, the more lost you felt.

They didn't know you.

No one knew you, but they adored your husband and, in turn, fawned over you.

Liars.

Everyone spouted half-truths, mirroring the ones Alastor had been telling you for months, and your heart grew heavier with each one told.

You could manage seeing him falsify his real identity to the public, to unsuspecting strangers, and to posh parasites.

You could handle being put on a pedestal, seen as the perfect wife, and expected to echo his ideal perception.

Lying to others was child's play, a game you two had grown to love, but Alastor developing the need to lie to you wasn't a tolerable offense.

The party began smoothly; guests swooped in with delightful gifts, either handmade or recently bought from the showcases of New Orleans's finest shops; gentle swing music wafted through the air of Rosie’s lavish two-story home that sat only a block away from your own.

She'd gone to the extreme for the whole ordeal: live music, tantalizing food laid out on tables in the parlor, decorations befitting a small ball neatly adorning the house exterior, and the creme de le creme of Louisiana's socialites filling the guest list.

Alastor uttered nothing but praise for his dearest friend's efforts, thanking her for the collaborative success with a broad smile and chaste kiss.

You followed his gratitude with a gracious nod, content with sitting at your designated table now lined with small gifts from an array of affluent attendees.

"My, Rosie, you've outdone yourself again! You even got Anthony and that grump Husk to show face," Alastor chuckled, eyeing the chattering crowd carefully until his gaze landed on the two opposing men.

Rosie hummed triumphantly, champagne flutes in one hand as the other flicked off an imaginary offense, "Oh, come now, Alastor, you know I'd do my best for the occasion! Everyone in town begged to be here. Not every day they get to meet radio's biggest star and his wife!"

She flashed a genuine grin at you, noting the slight glare on your face as you returned it, but said nothing.

Her attention reverted to the man beside her, who continued observing the crowd, sharing passing remarks with Rosie when a person of interest appeared.

You oversaw their exchange, deliberately soft-spoken the whole evening, often having to avert your focus to converse with a couple who'd come to give their gift and admiration.

Still, the minute the guests left to join the party again, you'd zero in on them.

Alastor felt your eyes on him, burning holes into the back of his head despite you sitting down to rest as the party moved along.

He refused to acknowledge your staring, patiently waiting for you to call for his attention rather than assume you needed it.

After ten minutes of idle chit-chat, he was obliged to give it to you, as Rosie excused herself for the time being.

You said nothing as he peered down at you over his shoulder, amber eyes glinting gold under the lowering sunlight pouring in from the opened bay windows behind you, lips curled into a familiar smile that you considered returning for a moment.

It was hard for you to deny how magnificent Alastor looked in the thrall of pride, dressed in a Burgundy suit with cream accents, hair neatly styled to hide his natural brown curls from the eye of others, and his skin glimmering under natural light.

He was beautiful, deceptively desirable even in your eyes filled with one-sided hurt, and you wished to let go and stand by his side with the utmost confidence in him just as you'd done so many times before.

It would be so easy to forget his transgressions then, to fully enjoy the celebration of your children's oncoming arrival together, but as he elegantly turned on his heel to approach you, splinters of suspicion pricked through your forgiving nature.

You wouldn't t let him charm his way out of this.

Enough was enough.

Alastor watched as your expression grew hard, hidden from the festive crowd by his lean frame as he knelt at eye level with you.

To those around you, the gesture came off as romantic, an endearing sight of a husband tending to his pregnant wife, and not the unspoken detachment of trust between a loyal lover and her predatory protector.

Alastor reached for one of your hands, subtly tugging it from resting on your stomach to resting in his palm.

A sickeningly sweet smile plastered his face as he placed a ginger kiss on your gloved knuckles.

His eyes never left yours as he enacted the loving gesture, swirling with unabashed mischief as you dug your nails into his skin, and the slight pain beckoned him to hum with delight.

You were angry and even enraged with him, but you showed it subtly and practiced, and if he were an ordinary man, Alastor would've considered feeling guilty for it.

But your husband was far from average, far from the definition of guilt, and you wouldn't have him any other way because, despite all his faults and evils, you loved him.

You loved him, felt loyal to him, would do anything for him, yet he lied.

He carried on belittling your trust to mere innocence.

Resentment radiated off you in waves, barely drowned out by the party's happenings but settling on Alastor's shoulders with force.

"Is there something troubling you, my dear?" he asks lowly, eyes steady on you as your smile tightens.

"You." is the only word that leaves your lips, laced with lethal rage in the softest tone, and the contrast elicits a rare frown from him.

He lets your response linger, tangling with laughter and music but remaining in his consciousness as he rises to his feet.

A specific anger curls in Alastor's chest, one he seldomly felt for himself, but the look on your face as he rose to his full height above you made it potent.

Something was different; that sweet girl he'd grown to cherish now looked tainted, and now he knew it was his fault.

"Darling…" he began to formulate an inquiry, faltering in his well-tailored demeanor to conjure a suitable remedy for your anger, but his excuses weren't quick enough.

You carefully stood to your feet, forcing a smile before raising on your tip toes to kiss his cheek, smoothing a hand over his suit until it rested where his heart was.

Your lips neared his ear, whispering spiteful words that didn't match the loving aura you showcased to the onlooking guests.

"You, my love, are a heartless lying bastard. Keeping secrets from me, your wife, of all people? Is that what your devotion to me means? Not trusting the woman who loves you? The mother of your children? If it is, then you can burn in hell with satan himself..'

The strain of smiling through your pain began to take its toll.

Tears welled in your eyes as each hurtful word fell on his ears, but you refused to cause a scene at such a lovely event and resorted to walking away from him as swiftly as you could manage.

Alastor was left to stand alone, his jaw clenched and his control wavering as he heard your heels click further away.

A few guests tried to gain your attention, but you quickly and respectfully declined their engagements, barely making it out of their view as tears streamed down your face, but by fate's grace, you found solace in Rosie's kitchen.

All of the cooks, maids, and waiters were absent.

Everyone was upstairs enjoying the festivities, celebrating you and Alastor's happiest time, but here you were.

Alone.

Beside yourself and utterly alone.

You tried to sob quietly, choking back frustrated screams while pacing, but the look on Alastor's face after you'd confronted him about lying brought more tears.

You'd never seen him hurt, taken aback, guilty like that.

He'd always been so perfect in your eyes, composed and deliberate about his presence.

Now, you'd ruined that image, and at what cost?

Would he come clean now or shut you out even more?

Was your anger worth any of it? Was his lying worth it?

Your heart was a mess, desperate to connect with his, but reluctant to it all at once.

“….”

Maybe father was right…

The sound of quick footsteps approaching the kitchen didn't register to you, drowned about by your excessive crying, but another presence was made evident as two gentle arms wrapped you in a hug.

"Oh, honey, come here…" Rosie cooed into your hair, frowning as your cries became hysterical, muffled by the frilly fabric of her dress.

"H-he's been lying to me, Rosie! Alastor…..a-and everyone else in this decrepit city has been playing me like a fool!"

You shuddered violently, trying to breathe correctly despite a filled stomach and a rush of anger taking its toll.

Rosie hushed you gently, letting you cry in her arms until your breaths came steadily.

She ushered you to sit somewhere comfortable as she gathered a few items to help your nerves settle.

"He lied to me," you repeat tiredly, watching as she throws together a pot of tea, using herbs you know all too well.

A sprig of Lavender, sprinkle of cinnamon, bits of rosemary, and a few drops of honey. Finally, a dash of lemon for taste.

This a simple but potent recipe for a calming and effective cup of tea.

Rosie sighs, debating what to say as she lets the mixture steep in a porcelain cup of hot water.

You weren't wrong; Alastor was hiding things from you, and though she hated to see you so distraught because of his hidden deeds, the possibility of hurting you with the truth weighed on her.

Betray, her closest friend's trust, tell his wife the haunting truth and pray she still loves him after hearing it.

Or, keep up the charade he'd so carefully created to protect you, risk driving you mad with resentment, and contribute to the cycle of pain you felt?

Rosie had difficulty choosing which path to follow but soon made her decision as you spoke again.

"Rosie…tell me the truth. Is he…is he seeing another woman? Planning to leave me? To leave us?.." you glance at your stomach, fearful of her answer and terrified your assumptions might be right.

Oddly silent, she doesn't answer your questions immediately and finishes preparing your fresh cup of hot tea, "Rosie, please! Whatever Alastor is hiding from me, I need to know. I…I'm his wife, and I have the right to at least know what's being kept from me. What is he doing out so late all the time? Why can’t I leave the house without him anymore? And for goodness sake, why does he insist I don’t read the paper?!”

The blonde freezes where she stands, whipping her whole body around to stare at you intently, and you stop yourself from rambling seeing her serious so suddenly.

"Al isn't being unfaithful, dear. That I can tell you for certain.."

"Then what in god's name is he-"

Rosie drew closer to you, dawning an all-too-sweet smile you'd learned to dread.

That happy expression was practiced, used only to console your fears or quell any questions you had.

She'd gotten so well at fronting the mask that you nearly began to believe anything she said when it was on, but now you knew better.

You knew that smile meant more lying, and in that moment, you lost the will to trust anyone in Alastors' close circle.

Even Rosie.

"I think it's time you go home and rest, dear. All this stress and crying isn't good for the babies," the blonde moved you gently, helping you stand and walk the expanse of her kitchen, up the stairs, and down corridors until the ongoing party reached your ears again.

That entire trek back upstairs felt meaningless, a distant woeful memory you existed in just to be flung back into reality by Rosie's voice, "I'll go get Al and have him take you-"

Your head snapped up at the mention of the one man who'd caused so much sorrow, tongue poised to speak harshly about him, but your penchant for politeness tempered it.

"That won't be necessary, Rosie. I'll get home just fine on my own."

She balled, clutching the string of pearls around her neck, "Oh goodness no, dear! This may be uptown, but it is still no safe place to walk about all alone. And dare I say, Alastor’s just wouldn't have it-"

"Rosie. I don't wish to see or be near him!.." you hissed as quietly as possible, lips pursed and eyes glaring daggers into her crowded parlor room.

Despite her better judgment, Rosie let the matter go, frowning as she made a heady suggestion.

"Why don't I have a close friend walk you home then? Just in case. There is a murder running 'round, and we can't have you getting hurt or caught up."

There it was again…

We…

You knew she was referring to anyone but you. Alastor, Angelique, her.

Everyone but you seemed to have a significant stake or curious investment in your unborn children's well-being.

The eerie overprotectiveness always made you weary, but at this point, you found it alarming, to say the least.

However, Rosie was right to a point.

There'd been a murder -or several- running a muck in Louisiana’s deep south.

Specifically, New Orleans.

Although the gruesome crimes were frequent, morbidly committed, and consistently reported on by papers and radio shows alike…

No one, not even the expert authorities, seemed to pinpoint a suspect or apparent killer among the public.

All that they knew was the killer's intangible motives, their style, their choice of victims -but nothing substantial enough to apprehend them.

You couldn't care less about a possibility of the Bayou Butcher coming for your head.

Your anger towards Alastor proceeded your worries for personal safety.

Rosie didn't wait for you to come to reason with her observation, already scurrying into the parlor to find your husband and tell him of your wishes to leave.

It irritates you how fragile she, Alastor, and everyone else he knows treated you.

It was as if you couldn't fend for yourself, as if he was the only one capable of cognitive thought in your marriage, and to some degree, the realizations stung your pride.

Traces of anger grew in your heart towards him minute by minute, something you never dreamt of feeling for him, but dreams can quickly turn into nightmares as your father would say…

This moment was that turning point. You could feel the shift as you turned away from the packed parlor, ignoring those who gave greetings as you stalked toward the front door.

Some asked if you needed assistance, and others watched in confusion as you slipped out the door and let it slam shut behind you.

Not many people were on the front porch and lawn, and those who were let you pass through without saying a word.

You presumed they were just waiting for the moment to gossip again, whether it be about you or someone else.

The need to care wasn't one you had, taking brisk steps down the sidewalk under a setting sun as rare chilled breezes sweep the southern heat from your face.

It was convenient that Rosie only lived a block and a half away from you, and Alastor’s shared estate.

The semi-long walk gave you time to think, time to enjoy the scenery around you and get away from the suffocating expectations put on you simply by being the Radio Star's perfect wife.

You scoffed at the thought, trying not to get angry again as your steps took you around a familiar corner, but the negative feeling quickly lessened when you felt a gentle rap of kicks in your stomach.

The twins gave a subtle tussle, sensing their mother's distress, and to some degree, you believed they were trying to cheer you up.

Their tiny gestures worked, putting a smile on your solemn expression and keeping it there to your destination.

You shuffled up the steps to your home, tired, feet sore, and ready to cry again as the large structure reminded you of the man you'd left to endure the company of his admirers.

His.

Not yours.

That had always been the difference.

With a sigh, you unlocked the front double doors, shutting them swiftly as street lamps began to light up and locking the ornate wood panels right after.

It was a habit Alastor insisted on and one you didn't intend to break tonight.

He'd have to come through the back door, and as small as the hassle would be, you still found it a suitable enough sign of discontent from you to him.

With nothing but sleep on your mind, you trudged up the staircase, pulling your gloves off and preemptively pulling pins from your styled hair.

By the time you reached the bedroom, your hair flowed loosely down your back, and your dress zipper was pulled down (by some miracle, you managed to do it on your own).

You tossed the pins on your vanity, jewelry, gloves, and clutch purse, following suit.

Your shoes regained their spot in the closet, your clothes were thrown into the bathroom hamper, and your nightrobe was thrown over your arm as a replacement.

You were ready for bed after one hot shower, a face care routine, and a hair brushing session.

Alastor still isn't home yet…

The clock had struck midnight thirty minutes ago, and he'd yet to show his face.

You half expected him to, but after years of seeing him angry on very few occasions, you highly doubted he'd return without cooling himself down first.

He tended to go hunting as an alternative…which left you alone for hours on end.

Sadness and guilt crept into you as the argument replayed in your mind.

The emptiness of your shared bed did not help your aching heart, and the heavy silence of the house made it worse.

You may have gone too far.

Maybe he wasn't hiding anything, and I overreacted?

Maybe I was wrong to doubt him, to worry and fret over something trivial.

Your thoughts spiraled again, tears filling your eyes as regret got the best of you.

"What have I done…?" you mumbled in earnest, glancing around the room, wishing to apologize to Alastor or at least explain yourself in a better tone.

Sleeping without him felt foreign, unreal, and even like a self-inflicted punishment.

You saw no benefit to it, and you were consumed with worry.

I can’t do this…

With your mind racing but your body ready to rest, you decided that taking one of Angelique's tonics would soothe you enough to relax.

You left the room on a mission, carefully treading downstairs and into the kitchen, and with haste, you found the cabinet holding the container of vials she’d gifted to you every month.

You opened it swiftly, hoping to find what you needed, but the box was empty.

"Oh, for the love of!-" you hissed angrily, shoving the box away with a grimace, but the sour expression didn't last long as you remembered where to find extra tonics.

Angelique was an insightful woman, cautious enough to give you extra in case something like this happened.

Fortunately, Alastor insisted on putting the additional vials somewhere else so as not to mistake them for regular tonics.

You'd agreed to his idea, allowing him to keep them safely locked in the basement, but now you needed them.

Leaving the moonlit kitchen, you drifted into the second hallway, walking straight ahead to the basement door.

Its key hung on a hook to the left, a small silver trinket Alastor kept a tight watch on, and you tended not to mess with it.

That went for the basement as well.

It was his area of the house you stayed away from not only out of personal reluctance but also out of explicit instructions from him.

His reasons for your avoidance ranged from "Trust me, It's too dangerous for you, darling.." to "Just as you have the library as a safe haven, I have the basement as mine…"

You hadn’t thought to question him, having no reason to, but for once, you disregarded his wishes to grant your own.

He'd never know you went down there only to retrieve medicine. What harm could one peek do?

You plucked the key from its hook, unlocking the creaky black walnut door before reaching into the dark abyss for the lamp switch.

Your fingers found it on the left wall, flicking the switch to bring a warm golden light into the damp room.

The steps croaked under your slow footsteps, holding firm under your nearly doubled weight until you stepped onto the cold wooden flooring.

Alastor kept the space oddly clean; a chair sat in one corner, his hunting gear was neatly arranged on one of two long oak tables, and the walls held other hunting equipment.

You noticed most of the hanging instruments were carving aids, something your own father used to cut and properly clean his own game after he went hunting during your childhood.

Seeing the array of butcher knives and other tools did not frighten you; they were familiar and expected from your husband's choice of hobbies.

Nothing caught your attention at first, usual kickbacks and things tucked away in corners and a hefty radio set on the second table, but little stood out.

You treaded carefully though, peering curiously at different items as you searched for the spare box of tonics, but they were nowhere to be found at first glance.

You figured to look deeper, rummaging through cabinets and under the table, mindful of your swollen belly as you bent down or reached above.

The longer you searched, the more anxious you felt.

Somewhat afraid of being in the basement alone, and a little scared Alastor would find you down there, though he explicitly asked you not to be.

"I have to hurry.." you mumbled, eyes frantically searching the space again as the last cabinet you searched held nothing important to you.

A particular corner of the room caught your gaze. Right behind the armchair was a stack of boxes of different sizes.

You drew closer to them, spotting the extra medicine box on top, gently grabbing it from the pile, but you couldn't look away from the most enormous box sitting right at your feet.

It was huge and made of sturdy metal, unlike the rest, and you were sure a whole person could fit in it if they tried.

How odd…

You'd never seen it before but the box felt sorely out of place, among other things.

You couldn't peel your attention away from it, some invisible force urging you to look inside, and despite your better judgment, you gave into the desire.

Setting the medicine box down on the chair, you moved the other cases off the larger one, clearing it off before cautiously kneeling to open it.

There was no lock, only four bolt latches, which you found easy enough to undo, but the real task was lifting the heavy lid up high enough to see inside.

You managed it with a few determined huffs escaping your lips, letting the heavy lid hit the stone wall before taking a look inside.

You immediately wish you hadn't..…

"Oh God…" you whispered in utter shock and horror at the sight in front of you, feeling undeniably sick from it, mind racing to make up a rational reason for the vulgar sight.

But what rational reason on Earth could justify your beloved husband hiding a literal mutilated body in the basement.

Your heart sank seeing the poor souls' faces sunken in with dread, drowning in their blood, maned at various points as if an animal had mauled them.

Body parts were missing, skin had been flayed, and you almost couldn't tell if the person had any recognizable features left.

It was horrible…a brain-altering nightmare come to life before your very eyes, and it made you sick.

You began to cry, unconsciously sobbing hysterically as the dead body lifelessly peered back at you, terrified of it… slightly afraid of the man you presumed caused the damming scene.

With a sense of urgency, you reached to shut the lid, flinching as loose blood splattered onto you from the impact of the box closing, and the chill of red liquid dripping down your skin was enough to make you scream in pure disgust.

It was a guttural, frantic cry you'd only expressed in recent nightmares, but a deserved one.

Your body began to shake in peril, the gruesome image engraved into your mind as you scrambled to get to stand, but you weren't as composed as before and stumbled backwards haphazardly as a result.

Everything moved faster than you thought; your body had abandoned control, leaving you to fall without warning.

The room spun as your head collided with a table's edge, a dull pain erupting in your skull on impact, and your consciousness wholly disrupted.

The blinding pain of falling to the hard floor didn't register to you as panicked tears seeped down your face, screams you couldn't hear left your lips, and blood began to pool from your head and between your legs.

Shock, terror, helplessness, fear, and panic were all you could feel.

Intense pain in your stomach and head amplified the emotions but became distant sensations as your vision blurred and faded.

The very last words you remember speaking was a cry for help, a desperate plea for everything you'd seen to be a mistaken dream, a cry for anyone -no- your husband to save you from the terrible ordeal.

A plea for him to appear and tell you it's not true, that the body in the bolted box wasn't his doing, but your hope of him hearing you -anyone hearing you- dwindled rapidly as your concussion took hold.

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Rosie found Alastor quickly enough, merely having to spot his neatly styled curls drifting in the wind as he stood out on a balcony alone.

A drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

He blew smoke into the murky winter air, eyes dark and narrowed as he stared at the evening sky.

It was rare to see him frowning.

Alastor Hartifelt, of all people, not smiling?

Rosie nearly couldn't believe it the closer she drew to him.

He was…upset.

Irritated.

His smile was thoroughly washed away by your harsh words and prods for the truth.

You'd managed to take his cheer in one fail swoop, leaving him alone to think, and he couldn't blame you.

You, his ever-so-loving wife, his confidant, and his soon-to-be motherly doting doe, were rightfully at odds with him.

He'd hurt you, the very reason he'd began lying in the first place was to avoid doing so, but it'd happened anyway.

A genuinely ironic turn of events, in his opinion.

Alastor glared at the rising moon, cursing whatever higher power meddled dared to meddle in his life of all people, but his inner ranting was cut short as the sound of Rosie clearing her throat hit his ears.

The radio host spun on his heel to face her, fronting a slight smile to hide the agitation he felt at the moment, "Done socializing already, dear Rosie?"

He strived to sound polite and unbothered, but the edge in his tone showed through despite his best efforts.

Rosie paid no mind to his touchy attitude, knowing where it stemmed from.

She came to stand by his side, nodding in response to his question, "I didn't have much time to. I was with your lovely wife…trying to calm her nerves."

Alastor's frown returned at the mention of you, a thin line on his lips and a glint of guilt in his gaze.

"How is she?" he asks quietly, and Rosie's cheery expression falters hearing it.

"She insisted on returning home… by herself. Incredibly distraught on her way out.." She admits.

His chest tightened, heart sinking instantly picturing you at home alone, "Why didn't she-"

Rosie clicked her tongue dismissively, interrupting his line of questioning, "Al, she was severely distraught. Please let her be. I only know a fraction of what went on between you two, but it's obvious to her that you're hiding something. Not to intrude on your marriage, darling, but you must make a choice before something irreversible happens to it…to Y/n."

The blonde couldn't hide her somberness, staring at her long-time friend with a sense of earnest sincerity as she continued, "I shouldn't be the one to tell you this….but if you really do care for the girl, love her like you say you do, then you'll tell her the truth. You'll tell her, and she'll still be by your side…."

Alastor lowered his head, and for the first time in his adult life, he felt perplexed, stuck at impasss of foreign emotions.

He cared for you; some might call it love, and he'd been aware of it since childhood.

You'd told him all your secrets, good or bad, and trusted him.

You trusted him enough to reveal the mental abuse your father had put you through during childhood.

Trusted him enough to tell him how badly you wished you'd died instead of your mother to make your father somewhat happy again.

Alastor even knew of the times you'd been left completely alone as a child for weeks on end, how your father's neglect made you feel less than, and the permanent effect it had on you.

Your desire to fill a void, be loved without being shoved off, and be seen as more than a convenient soft-hearted person for someone to trifle with.

He knew every little thing about you, and it was because you had faith in his loyalty.

He found it easy to divulge his thoughts to you in the same manner, but allowing his secrets out into the open made him uneasy, even if you'd proven trustworthy from the beginning.

Then there was the matter of killing for you.

Alastor had done it so many times without your knowledge…

Stalking down men who stared at you too long for his liking, carving up anyone who spoke ill of you, happily taking the life of those who spoke down on your relationship.

Most of his murderous tendencies were purely driven by his obsession with you, a twisted kind of possessiveness he couldn't let go of, and one that made it easy for him to spill blood for you in the blink of an eye.

He did it to keep you safe…and that’d only be possible with him and no one else.

What stopped him from telling you how far he’d gone to do so, showing you that unnatural side of him only his victims saw, could only be described as fear.

Fear of losing you.

Fear of stripping the warmth from your heart.

Fear of losing the one thing, the one person who'd loved him despite all his flaws.

Fear of never truly smiling, never feeling a genuine emotion again because you -your presence in his life- allowed him to do just that.

Alastor hated to call it what it was, but as he was evading your attempts to understand, lying straight to your face and hoping you'd dilute your intuition was a way cowards way out of telling you the whole truth.

His pride dimmed, a frustrated grunt rumbling his chest as he glared at the drink in his hand.

Rosie sighed, flashing him a soft smile of pure reassurance, "Go to her, Al. Put a stop to her worries and relieve yourself of the burden. If not for your marriage, then for her sanity. She is too lovely of a girl to be treated so faithlessly."

He tongues his cheek at her words, a bitter burn of smoke and whiskey on it as he swallows thickly before nodding in agreement, "Seems I have no choice."

"You best head off. It's getting rather late, and I'm sure she misses you dearly, Al."

Alastor took one last drag of his cigarette, dropping it in his half-full bourbon glass before letting Rosie take it from him as he straightened his suit.

"I'll bid you good night then. You have my gratitude, Rosie, and the party was a splendid success, if I may add." His tone was back to normal, engaging, and mildly charismatic. Rosie smiled wide at his improving mood, accepting his thanks before shooting him off with a quick peck on his cheek.

“Au revoir monsieur!…”

“Au revoir mademoiselle..”

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

Alastor made it home without trouble, humming a snappy tune to distract himself from the evening's progressing events.

However, as he reached the back door of your shared home, his shadows twinged with alertness.

His hand froze over the gold doorknob, a certain heaviness settling in his chest as the specters frantically twisted against the back porch walls.

Something is wrong. Can't hear Y/n. Can't hear their heartbeats. Can't feel them-

Alastor stiffened as his shadows enlarged, fueled by the panic he was resisting, "Find her!" he bellowed the order out on instinct, and the leering spirits dove into action as he barreled into the darkened home.

"Y/n!?" he yelled for you, head whipping in every direction as he searched the first floor, stomping up the stairs next to search the second floor but coming up empty.

He stood in your shared bedroom, remaining calm as he tried to figure out where you could be.

All your belongings were here, and you had readied for bed from the looks of your tampered vanity, but nothing else gave him a clue about your whereabouts.

That was until his shadows called to him; a certain bellow of wailing sounded from the lower part of the house, and one Alastor didn't like the sound of.

A warning.

A frenzied one at that.

Found her…hurry.

Without a second thought, Alastor bounded back downstairs, following the whips of his shadow self as it traveled through the halls, only to stop in front of a doorway he dreaded.

The basement. Its door was wide open, the lamp light eerily aglow as his shadows whirled past the steps to engulf the room.

“Y/n?!…” Alastor called for you again as he crept down the creaky wood steps, voice stiffer than he intended it to be, but its edge paled compared to the large lump forming in his throat when his eyes spotted you.

Splayed out on the floor, on your side, lying limp and motionless.

A small puddle of blood was forming near your head, another was quickly growing in between your legs, and splatters of it covered your face, hands, and nightgown.

For the second time in his life, Alastor felt true terror, bewildered by the sight of his darling wife in distress and paralyzed by the powerful possibility it was his fault.

He’d only felt this fearful once before, afraid his father would end his mother’s life right in front of him after a hefty night of drinking, but even then, he found the courage to act.

Merely killing his father out of pure rage-filled instinct, but now…how he would remedy your suffering alluded him completely.

She's barely breathing… Their heartbeats-

"That's quite enough from you!" Alastor roared in utter frustration, moving without thinking, willing himself to do anything but panic.

He worked as quickly as his mind would allow, trying not to break down as he knelt beside your still body, "Y/n…darling…wake up… please…" he begged quietly.

Being as cautious as ever, he cradled you close, praying to whatever cruel god there was that you'd respond or at least open your eyes while he carried you out of the haunting basement.

Your body twitched at the sound of a familiar voice, feeling lighter as solid arms lifted you from the cold floor and whisked you from the damp room.

The sound of a rapid heartbeat thundered in your ear as waves of coherence fought to establish itself in you, but the severity of your wounds made it a struggle to function.

You settled for listening to the heartbeat, the voice accompanying it a vague background noise but a comforting one.

Your vision wasn't any better, only allowing you to see a murky image of a man, one you knew well but couldn't determine was real or not in the moment.

“Al..astor?..”you whispered in awe, smiling sadly as he looked down at you, clearly worried.

“Stay with me, darling… Keep breathing, please…”

Alastor felt you shiver violently in his arms hearing him speak, racing up the stairs as cautiously as possible to avoid hurting you more, barging into your shared bedroom seconds later.

He laid you down on the bed, disregarding the blood and dirt staining the sheets as he tried to assess your injuries. "Fuck…fuck…fuck!" he rambled angrily, breaths coming quick, and his mind in a rare frenzy as a result.

Your eyes refused to stay open, an apparent wound was on the side of your head, and the impact of your fall had indeed done something to warrant your lower half bleeding.

He needed to stop the bleeding from both areas, keep you awake, and determine the twin's state all at once.

Alastor knew this but struggled to pull himself together, only able to grasp at one of your hands with both of his to ground himself as a frustrated smile adorned his face.

Pull it together, or she and your children die.

It's all my fault… it's all my fault…

She'll die if you don't act…

It's all my fucking fault…I-

She needs help! Wallowing in your depraved guilt won't change that!

His shadows chittered, reasoning with their host despite the panic they felt seeping off of him.

Alastor screwed his eyes shut, an anguished growl leaving his chest as he tried to think of a solution and push away his panicked state.

You remained still, on the verge of passing out again, trying to hold onto reality a little longer, squeezing your savior's hand back as a weak tether to it.

Alastor froze, feeling your gesture, head lifting swiftly as you attempted to speak, "It h-hurts.." you muttered painfully, acknowledging a new ache you'd only felt a few weeks prior.

Intense shocks of strain spread in your abdomen, noticeable contractions that felt different than previous ones, but as much as you wanted to articulate the agony they caused, you couldn't find the strength to.

You screamed instead, gripping Alastor’s hand hard as the constant pains grew more robust, making your cries grow louder.

The terror in your screeches struck him hard, an almost unnatural sound he'd never imagined coming from you, but your following words gave the sounds plausible clarity.

"Th-they're c-coming!" you choked between labored breaths, feeling dizzy as your blood loss took its toll, but the growing urge to push trumped your need to pass out.

Alastor came to his senses upon hearing your warning.

Fully aware that he couldn't handle this situation alone, he did the only thing that made sense to him.

Ask for help. Something he hated to do but saw no alternative for.

"Go get Rosie. Make it quick. Find my mother next and get her here as well…" he commanded his shadows quietly, heart still racing as he took solace in comforting you.

The bed dipped as he sat down, free hand cradling your head as the other raised yours to his lips.

He planted a kiss on your knuckles; brows furrowed as the feeling of your fingers gripping his slightly lessened, an indication of culminated exhaustion and blood loss.

"Stay with me, ma chere. Just a while longer, alright? Everything…everything’s going to be fine…" Alastor muttered soothing words into your ear, a ploy to keep you and himself calm, and to some extent, it worked.

You hung onto his every word, confused and alarmed by him but clinging to the safety his presence brought.

You couldn't forget what you saw in the basement, the horrid image still stuck in the back of your mind as you cried in agony and writhed in desperation for help.

You couldn't believe that Alastor, your perfect husband, the man watching over you now so fervently, had done something so horrible to another person.

You had many questions, fears, and even more confusion than before.

Nevertheless, your dire position now completely overshadowed the underlying nightmare that was your marriage.

Your children.

That's the only thing you could clearly envision, enduring the heartache, suffering through the genuine threat to your life, all for their sake.

Confronting Alastor could wait.

Surviving the night and bringing healthy twins into this world couldn't.

xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx xxxxxxxxx xxxxxxxx

I'm putting the reader through a lot...but you all will survive... Maybe. Also, the song choices for this one kind of hit just right. ;)

TAGS ❤️: @rapturenyx @michi-keinz @shealizxx @nissrinina @destinyisastar @bubblegumheartsy @sailorsmouth @aestheticgals-blog @rameisa @ellesette

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

This edit is so fitting, I fear... Credits to creator ❤️

[marley-manson]

M*A*S*H for the fandom ask

Thank you! 💖

Favorite character:

Hawkeye!!! My guy! I have written so many odes to him so I'll refrain here, but man. Big fave.

Least Favorite character:

Potter. Sorry, he's a sweet loveable old traditional man and that absolutely sucks ass for the political messaging, which is my second favourite aspect of mash after the homoeroticism.

5 Favorite ships (canon or non-canon):

Hawk/Trap

Hawk/Frank

Hawk/BJ

Hawk/omc

aaaand Hawk/Charles I guess

Character I find most attractive:

Margie probably

Character I would marry:

Honestly, none of them. All the women with speaking roles are either military volunteers or have established lives and obligations in a war torn country.

Character I would be best friends with:

The random tertiary characters who don't do anything obnoxious and are just kinda there. Kellye, Igor, various unnamed nurses. I don't want to be friends with someone who could be a sitcom character.

a random thought:

I love how long running episodic tv eventually gets like, a fanfic esque vibe, where the writers are writing fully established characters in a fully established setting and incorporating fully established details into their ideas. I find it very satisfying and enjoyable. There's an exchange in Peace on Us, it's a random little offhand line, totally nothing, but basically Charles tells Hawkeye to stop complaining because he has the most points since he's been there longest, so he'll be going home before any of them anyway. And Hawkeye's response is basically, yeah I've been here so long that I have every right to complain.

And I love that in order to write that exchange some writer had to remember that Hawkeye's canonically been there the longest so logically he would have more points than Charles and BJ.

Like I said, absolutely irrelevant detail, there's hundreds just like it, but it's just a good tiny example of something I like about older tv. It's not about consistency either since Mash is bad with continuity lol, it's just about knowing that the writers are building on a world that exists with or without them, I guess.

An unpopular opinion:

Is there one I haven't already talked about at length? Today I will say:

Hawkeye doesn't have a character arc. He doesn't get more worn down, he doesn't lose his resilience. He has ups and downs throughout from season 1 to 11 and he has a breakdown at the end, not a tangible decline. The seventh episode of the whole show was about Hawkeye and Trapper being extremely burned out, there's no down to go from there. The entire show is one big down for Hawkeye. The change is solely tone, and Hawkeye's the only one this really affects because he's the only character there from start to finish, aside from Margaret who did have an arc.

Hawkeye's biggest breakdowns pre GFA are, imo, Dr Pierce and Mr Hyde, and The Late Captain Pierce, both episodes in the first half of the show, and at the very least anything in later seasons like eg Depressing News is equal rather than worse. If anything it could be argued that he gets a little more of a handle on himself and the situation in the later seasons thanks to being there so long. He certainly has enough of a handle on himself to emotionally support the hell out of everyone else for very little support in return lol, and there are moments when he gives others cautionary advice based on his own hard-earned experience, like when he warns Winchester about insomnia in Dr Winchester Mr Hyde.

Like, basically in the early seasons Hawkeye was miserable in dark comedy, in the later seasons he's miserable in character drama with a side of comedy subplots. There's no devolution there.

my canon OTP:

None. The most a canon romance is to me is neutral.

Non-canon OTP:

Hawkeye/Trapper

most badass character:

Klinger. And I love how the show frames him sometimes along those lines - like Margaret and Hawkeye's "isn't there one man among you?" / "The job's open" exchange when they're being held at gunpoint, followed by Klinger showing up in a dress and disarming dude with his stole in White Gold.

pairing I am not a fan of:

Hawkeye/Mulcahy I'll say. I don't dislike it on principle or anything, I'm happy for the fans and its surge in popularity, but I can't say I'm a fan, because I just can't really suspend my disbelief when it comes to Mulcahy fucking - gay fucking even - without like, having an immense religious crisis. And I don't particularly care to read about a priest having a religious crisis, so idk, doesn't work for me any way I slice it.

character I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another):

Yeah Klinger's a good choice for this, when he became company clerk, when the show has him flip flop on whether he loves the army because all his friends are in it (I can fanwank it away but if I have to do that it means the show fucked up), when they make him the guy who makes stupid mistakes... all a downgrade.

favourite friendship:

Hawk + Margaret. I love them because they're very odd-couple, they would never be friends outside this circumstance and only became friends within the circumstance after years of enmity and change from Margaret. I don't think they'd remain close after the war, and that's part of what I like about their friendship. It feels real, but temporary and very much a friendship of convenience, because Margaret's the only person around Hawkeye can really have certain kinds of emotional talks with.

character I want to adopt or be adopted by:

n/a

ask meme

[querte07]

WhateverIFeelLiketober

The prompts me and @fanstasticbook worked on over October!

...Yeah i know this is super late shhhhhh

Goofy Goober OC by Fanstasticbook

...The yuri,,,

We exchanged our monthly PFPs for a prompt, I also played around in CSP because I did the free trial and all

Machine

Spiky goober

Four if Fanstasticbook was the CEO of everything (btw every friday we drew agt 4 as the prompt)

They will not happen, but I think sharklings are cool...

Some goober pumpkin OCs from a while back, they're some of my faves

Also they're child n' mother respectively just for those curious about the OCs (I am talking to basically nobody nobody is following me on here)

Spooder, from same set of OCs as the previous day

Decided I wanted to be awesome for day 10 so I just did

These designs are some Fanstasticbook came up with btw not me lol

Umbrellas in character design.

Need I say more?

Yummy borger !!

Another goober enters the ring, this one being related to @crossthesplatside (whenever we finally get to posting more about the projects 💀)

Once upon a time I designed different looks for different names the Zoologist from Terraria has available and this one is basically my favorite

B̴̛͚̭͕̩̳̮͈̮̲̙͓̤̱̞͎́̉̊̔͋̈́̓͌̕͘e̶̦͈̭̝̪̞̻̘̰̽̅p̷̼͈͍̰̞̔̄̾̑̈́͒̉̕̕͠i̶̡̱͉̣͕͇͈̳̼̓̐̔̔̑̈́ͅs̶̻̜̻̥̪͔̹̺̥͓̲͂̈́̒̅̀̐.̴̨̛̯͕͆͛̊̈̎̈́̈́͛̕̚ͅ

It's probably really hard to read but!! Made a dualie type based on pez dispensers

Also 'Spoolies was short for something and I forgot what it originally was entirely...

Ghostie designs :>

Just came up with these after looking into some short folklore on them and such, some are just more original ideas

Old octoling OC that's also relevant to a future project eventually, we'll see when I finally have something to show off for that

Book designed her originally btw

Crossover drawings are always a lot of fun, so here's Genny from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia in Marie's outfit!

My favorite moment from the Splatoon Movie was when Agent 4 said "I'm gonna goober" and goobered all over the place

Once again Cross and B-Side are related to @crossthesplatside for whenever we work on it more. Gotta love how the creative mind jumps away from projects right when you finally start making them public!!

Redesign of an old witch OC of mine

Didn't turn out great but I messed around with an ASCII TV-head face

Once again related to posts for days 8 and 9, something might eventually come from this project. A webcomic maybe.

EXTREME YURI ATTACK!!! AGENT24AGENT24AGENT24 GRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH

Drummer for Fanstasticbook's custom splatband!

Bad endings💔

...A little too intense for comfort, Sunny. Might wanna just work on completing Kettles.

Candle half based on the design of Paraffin in Terraria's Split mod

Corrupted lamia kinda Terraria related. Bit horrific so I'm sorry if it's unsettling to anyone.

Goober interaction (Marie stole the lollipop from Cal I can't believe she's done this)

Final day will be in a separate post 'cause I reached the 30 image attachment limit...

[colorisbyshe]

Other report:

got in line super early, spent the entire time talking to a trans girl in a goth outfit and a lesbian in full yankees gear. everyone was super nice

we all exchanged favorite sites to pirate shit 😭 also music recs

met a fellow amaarae fan and bree runway fan

started in third row, saw a gap got to second, got shoved by someone INTO the barricade and then couldn’t back up so stayed at barricade

mentioned before but someone was singing in like FULL opera voice directly into my ear and i got them to stop cause multiple people were pissed off 😭 everyone was singing song this person stood out in a bad way like this isn’t some dumb “oh so singing along is bad?” thing. sometimes it is, most of the time it isn’t

everyone was soooo good at hypin her up! hyped up the opener’s dancers too. like everyone was ALL IN all the time!! a dancer did a split and the entire place screamed AYYYYYY

tinashe is so fucking cool like… instead of pausing the show for her outfit changes, she’d just place one of her more instrumental songs and let her dancers do a routine on their own and would be back on stage 2 minutes later

ended with two incredible mashups… you know music is alive again when mashups are back on the table

will say she only did like a minute of my fave song and i couldn’t record but i don’t even care that just meant i wasn’t touching my phone at all and jsut took it in

CROWD A- (great hype, some shoving, lots of people kept going to the bathroom a lot which you just… cant do much at barricade?? like there just wasn’t room)

Tinashe A+

Sound system A++ (pussy busting bass)

Set A+ (great interactive use)

my confidence in concerts is RESTORED

[elizabeth-mitchells]

prime numbers for fic ask

omg thank you so much!!!

2. Will you participate in any fandom exchanges or fic challenges, etc? 

maybe! if there's one i like and i happen to have time at the time then i'd love to!

3. Do you anticipate writing for a new fandom this year? Which one?

answered!

5. Which WIP is first on your list to complete this year? Will you post a snippet?

answered!

7. Will you change anything about the way you interact with other writers?

hm maybe read more!! to be fair i wish i could i just don't have the time 😔 i wish i could do more, interact more with my faves, message them, or join groups, but i'm shy and a coward so there's that ghsjdfhgj

11. Would you like to try any new fanfic genres or tropes this year?

answered!

13. Aside from fanfic, are there any other fan works you’d like to try creating? Fanart, or fanvids, gifsets, or podfic? 

hm i dont think so? i don't have the talent for any of that hgsjdfhgjf i've always wanted to try making gifs but 1. i think my laptop would die in the process and 2. i can perfectly see myself losing my entire life obsessing with it and i should probably not do that 😭

17. Do you typically answer all comments/reviews individually? Do you plan to change the way you interact with your readers this year?

yes i try to answer most comments!! i love to show my appreciation for comments because they seriously mean the world to me, and personally, as a reader, i've always felt encouraged by a reply to read more and leave more comments and just interact more you know? if anything i'd like to try and be more um idk maybe more creative replying to comments? more casual? not just "thank you for reading <3" but hopefully really discuss the fic and hang out and have convos in the comments!

19. Would you consider non-fandom writing events, like NaNoWriMo or writing contests? 

definitely! i did a few writing contests last year and hopefully i'll do even more this year!

23. Would you like to go on a writing retreat?

yeah i think so! i've never considered it so i'm not sure but kind of sounds like a dream!

[pinkseas]

GOOD EVENING NIGHTY TO U ALYYY I HOPE YOU'LL HAVE A NICE SLEEP SOON or now as i type this immediately after. ur answer because i am in the Mood like YEEHAW anyway FIRST OF ALL SIRMA'AMMX SHANNON i hope u have the bestest day too like that is both Embarrassing and an honest surprise theres someone else reading our convos at all and i did,... stumble on this one comment someone wants to read more of my xiao deadge brainrot weve been throwing back and forth that u replied (more like me crying u crying back i wipe ur tears still crying cus its all from me my fault i did this to myself) and im like SHYYY but its all out in the open on tumblr anyway so we just. yeah. YeaghHFHEHDKDJFHDHHFHDJDJFH dies in a corner cutely PATCHES THE ONLY EVER that we can trust in the most honest answers regarding blake rwby and xiao genshimpact her words only that we hold like the bible amen 🙏

"i have sm respect for it esp as like a genuine coping mechanism and i cant really speak on fics for it but the thought of xiao specifically as a character regressing is so ??? i get it in Theory but in Practice." NO BUT I GET YOU i think the interpretation can still. maybe. be put into a good way though I Cant Really See It but if whoever does esp the fics then u cant rlly debate their reason its like any other screwed up hc ppl do so yknow!! "sometimes u just gotta write fics where you baby the fave and i look away from those in general out of personal preference but i am especially looking away from ones where its xiao" with all u wrote after like i can see the point of Babying Xiao but not him going actual baby and das not good at all,... cus all i do think abt esp if zhongli treats him is those two fics i told u that gets me so hard of the old man's willingness to care for him and how hes so gentle and patient and akfkfjshhxhshdh like THAT is the type of babying but not babying i can get by like YKWIM

"there's a difference between treating someone gently knowing their strength and capability and choosing to be soft regardless in a good, respectful way, VS flat out ignoring that persons capability and strength and treating them like glass and truly believing that they could shatter at any moment if thought of any differently." im gonna be fr i did use the second option but OFC ZHONGLI DOESNT IGNORE its the fact he Knows xiao can still be,... so fragile. like (skids back like im wearing socks sliding on marble floor) ur fic where lumine holds him like shes holding the world and he cries and cries and she holds him regardless,... that type of fragility. i dont know if you rmb me talking this but i mentioned abt some other brainrot abt xiao trying to move on after the events of the chasm and how the crew And lumine And zhongli play a part of it but i didnt say that while everyone has at least a piece of their worldview given to him abt grief and loss its ultimately abt xiao and zhongli going through their conflict of each other way back since rex lapis' death,... and in the end when they resolve it, xiao had been so. so fragile. like everything reaches his breaking point and he breaks. he misses the past he misses devoting his only purpose to rex lapis whos not rex lapis anymore he misses bosacius he misses his siblings he misses the adepti he couldnt even mourn properly. and zhongli lets him mourn. and its that moment where he cries it rlly shows how small he is to the world yknow. THAT kind of guilt of acting like a child but for a person like xiao that he genuinely doesnt realize nor have the power to stop it. (and all ur comments after it jsut hits so HARDDD SO REALL)

"I JUYST WROTE LIKE A WHOLE PARAGRAPH but it was super fucking rambly in a way that made NO sense whatsoever so it is gone now goodbye </3" NO WAY…. NAUR WAY U CANT JUSR DO THAT I WANNA SEE UR WORD VOMIT TO MY WORD VOMIT TOO u said it urself sumtimes u cant get entirely what im saying I GOTTA BE CONFUSED TOO SUMTIMES EQUIVALENT EXCHANGE shakes u like a piggy bank (and like yknow every single i wrote here is unfiltered. like. i just leave in all my nonsensical rambles cus fuck it its not like i can come back to it and it perfectly encapsulates how Not Sane i am in my thoghts and i must Let you Know)

i do not have the words or thoght to respond on the xiaolumi xiao and lumine one bc everythings there already ITS ALL THERE SO BASED SO REAL so. i cant say theyre perfect for each other for the exact reason i see flaw that theyre not. i think. pettiness flowing through me that i personally see their development slow that i dont vibe with others' praises abt how glorious they are as a couple but not in how i see it KFHSHFHEHFJJEJFJ "made for each other" "their souls are fated to be together" can be so Eck to me its funny that it sounds like i hate xlmi too when i can go 30k words on it WAHAHKDJHSH am thinkinf abt ur latest post instead when the two are brought up bc my brain goes fast melts fast like putty i cannot Bother going back sumtimes but i Will Try

"idk how they put up with me fr" NO BUT. NO i also cant believe how you put up with me especially with that many paragraphs and over explaining and extremely specific views of xiao and lumine and zhongli and everyone else i drag in bc i do doubt if i am being so nitpicky abt it when i mention the gnsn commu's common views on it KFHSHFHHSHFH like, being around the community in twt or at least trying to be at the sidelines can be so. draining. that u see sm stuff that contradicts how u think and it makes u a little irritated if not scared u feel like ur the only one with this thought u feel left out. so like. its kinda ironic i found who can get me outside of twt HAJFKSJFJ

"it takes xiao and lumine a long time to develop a very close friendship" has been important to me for a long time since i knew their potential, and ive been doing this even before them like 😭😭😭😭 exploring love in a way that it isnt romantic love. that it doesnt have to be them kissing to make them official, that their close friendship is that fruitful result they grew which makes it personally hard to me that them being a couple and doing sims woohoo feels like its lost entirely for that "new stage in life". and i do take them realistically i do try my hardest to make them make even a little sense bc i want them to be as human as they are, although they were never human in the first place. not just exploring abt live but exploring abt how humanity works in teyvat,... about how to live,... and that matters sm to me ughghhdh post-teyvat where they do kinda maybe be 'official', but thats after all the hardship all the misunderstandings they went during teyvat. during conflict. and once everythings peaceful do they try to let go and make their bond simply work and THATS SO IMPORTANT TO MEEEE

though dont take my pov too heavily bc i did have my moot who knows abt my xlmi views and how i speak them so delicately and aggressively (gentle) passionate that theyre even cautious abt speaking their ideas to me i felt legit bad 💔💔 like SURE THEYRE SUPER IMPORTANT TO ME i would fight anyone who wants to rebuke my ideals but not those who just wants to be around and share the sillies with me like AUGH I HOPE THAT THIS IS EVEN A LITTLE BIT COHERENT TO U SKSKHFJSHFHD 

"me sitting here like a small child drawing them as stick figures holding hands and smiling “and then they were BEST friends <3” I MEAN WITH ALL THE SHT I SAID I DO THIS TOO FR sumtiems u get super analytic like a scientist lookijg thru their science thingamajigs to cure cancer sumtimes you go goofy ahh my blorbos i think theyre very neat tgt and we're so real for that <33333

GOOD MORNING BESTIEEEEEEEE <3333333

"(more like me crying u crying back i wipe ur tears still crying cus its all from me my fault i did this to myself)" NO BC THIS IS SO REAL LITERALLY

"PATCHES THE ONLY EVER that we can trust in the most honest answers regarding blake rwby and xiao genshimpact her words only that we hold like the bible amen 🙏" patches says xiao genshin impact is the only man ever and honestly i agree

"like THAT is the type of babying but not babying i can get by like YKWIM" I KNOW WHAT U MEAN !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"im gonna be fr i did use the second option but" NO BC LIKE i didnt word that right i know what u mean and like. idk. u dont do it in a bed or weird or disrespectful way yknow ???? you do it Right you do it so fawking well it makes me so insane and for what

"and in the end when they resolve it, xiao had been so. so fragile. like everything reaches his breaking point and he breaks. he misses the past he misses devoting his only purpose to rex lapis whos not rex lapis anymore he misses bosacius he misses his siblings he misses the adepti he couldnt even mourn properly. and zhongli lets him mourn. and its that moment where he cries it rlly shows how small he is to the world yknow" o(-( crying shaking bawling sobbing GODDDDDDD i see it. i see the vision i get it i Understand dear fucking LORD im so. explodes. learning to live for yourself missing the simplicity of the past missing those youve lost it is all So Fucking Hard and for what !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"shakes u like a piggy bank" DORRYYYYYYYYYY next time that happens i wll just keep the paragraph i pinkie prommy <333333 just for u bestie anything for u bestie

""made for each other" "their souls are fated to be together" can be so Eck to me" BIGGEST HANDSHAKE EMOJI EVER its so weird like sometimes in writing specifically i really love it but its one of those like. i appreciate it when its Not Real but if it were ever real or if ppl ever truly believed that other ppl or any charactesr were 'made for each other' or 'fated' i would expldoea nd die /neg ITS SO WEIRD i cant Properly describe how i love it a lot in specific ways but then hate it so bad in other ways its soooo. man

"i also cant believe how you put up with me especially with that many paragraphs and over explaining and extremely specific views of xiao and lumine and zhongli and everyone else i drag in" are u kidding me ur paragraphsg and explaining are the Best Things Ever In The Whole Entire Universe i adore and cherish it every single time without fail. something something not "putting up with" or "dealing with" just love just care <- doesnt know how words work or how to describe things

everything abt the way u talk abt xiaolumi is so. pleading face emoji x1000000000 im just. smdnfmsdngnfdkg GOD

"like SURE THEYRE SUPER IMPORTANT TO ME i would fight anyone who wants to rebuke my ideals but not those who just wants to be around and share the sillies with me like AUGH I HOPE THAT THIS IS EVEN A LITTLE BIT COHERENT TO U" no i know exactly what you mean dw !!!!!!! and its weird for me specifically/personally bc like. on one hand im still working on The Thing where if Someone I Care About has an opinion thats different from mine my instinct is "oh, my opinion is Wrong and theirs is Right" and that used to be SAURRRRR bad and there's a little bit of influence still BUT!!!! character growth character development i am so much better at keeping my own thoughts and hcs now and not twisting and changing them the split second someone says otherwise...... like the past few months especially ive gotten SO good at it its unreal i feel like an actual person now. and like i fully understand the fear of "oh no what if i make them feel like they cant talk about THEIR thoughts" but w/ us specifically too its like. i love hearing about your thoughts So Fucking Much whther theyre super similar or super different from my own, and partially bc of that i am 100% ok with sharing my own thoughts even if i feel like they're silly or know they'll be different from yours. idk if you were like a Stranger stranger (which is so funny to say all things considered) id probably be all polite but in the bad way where i listened and then agreed and didnt give my own thoughts but its YOU so i give all of my own thoughts i give every thought ive ever had and i feel totally comfortable doing so <- word vomit paragraph bc im delirious but im also too delirious to reword it into somethign more coherent dorry </333

"sumtiems u get super analytic like a scientist lookijg thru their science thingamajigs to cure cancer sumtimes you go goofy ahh my blorbos i think theyre very neat tgt and we're so real for that <33333" REALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL we literally are so real for that. man. i love that for us sm <333

ANYWAYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS i hope u have been doing well i hope ur day today goes amazingly i hope u get some good rest tonight or maybe during the day idk i hope school stuff is going well and finally if anything goes wrong or bad i am beating it up with my tiny baby fists peace and love goodnight <3

[starlightaxolotl]

End of Year Writing Highlights compilation

All of these are by far some of my favorite lines and word combos of the year. In No Particular Order. Under a cut bc this got L O N G. Some are actual scenes, some are lines, some are outline notes!

Enjoy!

The kingdom of Fuckoffname

Conversation between Flare and Eleanor about names. (side note, I have no idea who tf Flare is. But this was a document in my folder. This was the entire document.)

He peels back the layers of thorny brambles choking out (name) and tries to help. He sees (name) the way he sees his cat Mitzy, a golden hearted angel behind all the feral attitude and hissing and spitting they started with. (I personally redacted this because it's funnier without context. I love the dynamic of sunshine character and their feral bestie)

"I’m sure between these bozos and the clown I can find work for them.” (I need to write more for this. I enjoyed the way that I wrote Kennedy. What a snarky supervisor. A shame what I planned for him.)

The document titled "Yee Haw, Stardew Valley"

Foxes, for example, you know there are five separate species of fox in North America. They have incredible hearing, and like you, they grin when they’re scared.

The following exchange from a Fatherless Support Group Text fic I joked about.

Skywalker: probably like the third worst betrayal in my life actually. DAD HELP: ??? DAD HELP: THIS is in top 3??? I can think of at least 4 worse betrayals??

(the betrayal in question here was the reveal that Skywalker used to have a bedtime)

The kid–a little girl–looked so much like she did. Dark hair, hopeful smile, boundless energy. Like a mirror of what she once was, before she was a weapon. (I need to work on this one again)

Would there even be an investigation if he vanished too?

He was syrup-sweet. He is still syrup-sweet, but there is a sour note too. Dark berries and something tangy in his attitude. Is it the recognition of the blood on his hands? (Can you tell I wrote this while hungry and wanted to focus on the idea of flavors in not food contexts?)

Josephine looked relaxed, laying on the couch. Yes, it was merciful. A true monster would have simply let her fall to the floor in a heap. They had made sure to make quite the show of laying her down as he stood there in terror. (I NEED TO CONTINUE THIS. I peaked with this whole warm up. Dear god this bit really was something. The sense of horror from the perspective of a man dying a slow death)

(From yet another RWBY au crackfic idea, you get a few notes)He has to be in this universe as a treat. As a human. Some kind of aura wrecking semblance. Asshole. Aura leech?// Maybe his semblance should be fire based. Maybe he’s got some fire immunity idk if that’s possible but like again, would be funny.

She can sing and she can dance and she is everything your father wishes you were, and you hate her. (this is still one of my favorite sentences of the year, and it's literally from the first day I was writing in 2nd person.)

The image on the monitor was static-y and glitchy, but she could see it was another kid, one who was excited to hear another voice, just like her. “Oh good, I was worried that it was just Chica tripping the motion sensor again.” They moved and a horrible crackling sound came over the speakers. “I’m trapped under Roxy Raceway, there’s an elevator going down and it won’t turn back on. Maybe you can find a way to get it some power? I wanna get out of this place!”

“Top drawer has your security pass for the job. Level ten clearance. I think that should get you wherever you want—also works on the vending machines, not sure how but it does.” (the Pizzaplex is my playground and I will make it as nonsensical as I want for comedy reasons.)

Long scene but I forgot how much I liked the Ballpit Multiverse crackfic and how I wrote my faves.

Alert severity: NONE. Unidentified Watch User pinging FRDY-1. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. If there was an unidentified user then there was either an error or an intruder present in the building. He would need to cut this game short. He turned on the spot and walked quickly, calmly—if he ran Lloyd would know immediately that something was wrong, and it would not do for the children to be afraid, no it would not do. He lifted the shutter up with ease and smiled at the boy inside. Lloyd groaned. “How did you find me?” He tucked Lloyd under his arm and carried him like he weighed nothing. “Consider it one of my many skills.”

Unknown guest profile. But the scanner identified him as a potential guest, he had to be real, yes?

Fazbear Entertainment had a bad habit of making headlines. Everyone knew that. It was widely joked about online, the same way that people talked about headlines that started with “Florida Man”. If Fazbear was in the news it was typically worth reading about.

When things did hurt, it was phantom feelings of wounds he couldn’t remember. It felt wrong. His body was wrong. He was broken, and he had no idea how or why or if he could fix it. Gregory wanted to fix it. (I've been meaning to revisit I, You, Me, We for a few weeks now, and rereading what I had for chapter 2 does make it more enticing...)

ATTENTION EMPLOYEES: Be safe on your shifts! Interfering with “Superstar Gregory” is not advised. If he seems to be somewhere he shouldn’t, contact MANAGER ON SHIFT or FREDDY directly. Do not attempt to stop or manhandle “Superstar Gregory” unless absolutely necessary. Let’s avoid further hospitalizations and paperwork as a team! (lmao I loved this little note, I think it was funny to write it. Freddy as a very overprotective parent is one of my faves and I think I can do this better now after reading....like 200 fics in a similar flavor. all of my faves are perfect for forced/surprise adoption fics.)

He was the fire, and he had been burning on empty for a long time.

“It’s a lot prettier as stars instead of exploded green goop all over the city.” (wheezing, the context is star gazing in Ninjago)

"Are we there yet?" “You know,” You started with a smirk. “Every time you ask that I’m going to walk slightly off course for two minutes just to make it take longer to get there.”

"Hi there, it's me, the local idiot."

[thee-achilles]

🦩.|very powerful (& my fav) synastry aspects/overlays.

in honor of that valentine’s day season ig.

y’all act like i know shit about synastry. 🙄😒 y’all acted right 😈 here’s some of my fave powerful synastry aspects. 🙄

anyways this is an excuse to show my hand fixation 💪😒 a literal “odd flex, but okay.” i <3 hands.

let’s get this show on the road 😈

MOON-JUNO SYNASTRY

“LET’S GET MARARRRRRIIIIEEEEDDDD” that one tiktok. you know. the one.

i see no one speak on this. it’s SO PALPABLE. my first love’s moon was conjunct my juno. it makes you love and want to marry the person even if the other aspects create a rocky relationship. you want to take care of them and a part of them wants to take care of you. if other aspects are agreeable, this makes a wonderful long-term aspect.

juno is the asteroid that rules marriage and the moon rules our emotions, femininity, attachments, and nurturing, so it makes sense that with moon-juno synastry would make the moon person super attached to the juno person and vice versa.

the juno person knows that the moon person wants to or does take care of them well. the juno person makes the moon person mushy and want to take care of them even if they’re usually not the type to do so.

juno is the ideal partner and with your emotions, the moon, agreeing with that partner, it’s mostly perfect if other synastry aspects agree.

NORTH NODE CONJ NORTH NODE SYNASTRY

need i say more? it feels like you two feel like you were destined to meet. i have north node conj north node with someone i know and before we met, our parents talked about us to each other before we even saw each other. then, when we saw each other for the first time, i could tell we got the same feeling of “oh! i know you’re that person.” before we even EXCHANGED a word with one another.

you also have a similar path in life which means you get to help each other learn and grow. it’s giving long term if other aspects say yuh like ariana.

MOON IN THE 1ST HOUSE

god save the queen! sorry. anyways, this one screams wedding bells. y’all communicate telepathically. it’s like: 💆 “bro this bitch mad annoying don’t you think?” “bro i literally was JUST about to tell you that shit” 💆

also when you nurture each other, you feel nurtured through and through. it doesn’t leave you like “man, i really wish they did dadada-” NO 🤰 it leaves you frolicking in fields. 🧎 when will it be my time. y’all manifest this for me. IF YOU LOVED ME- 🙄😿

you can read each other so easily and can predict the most outta them. y’all are each other’s personal diary. it’s giving “hugging a pillow to your chest and talking about your secrets at a sleep over” type personal. also they understand your body.. if you catch my drift. 😏 i’m talking about body language, stupid 🙄😾

JUPITER-VENUS ASPECTS

**inhale, exhale**

COME ON, BRO.

i don’t see these aspects being talked about a lot 😿 which is why i’m here 😈 to talk about them 😻💁‍♀️

it’s just basic astrology at this point. jupiter is the planet of optimism and expansion. venus is the planet of love and beauty. when you’re with each other, you feel loved and feel beautiful. it’s like there’s this entire dome of energy around you two. constant smiles, playful bickering, little nitpicking (like pulling fluff off of their sweater nitpicking... so i guess knitpicking-), and LAUGHTER. this aspect gives me eugene and rapunzel vibes 🙄.

the “husband” and the “wife” planet is what basic astrology calls these two. shouldn’t the two spouse planets be together? wouldn’t they work in harmony? bring out abundance and joy together? i rest my case. 🧳👩‍⚖️‼️❣️

MERCURY-SUN/MOON ASPECTS

y’all.

my mercury dom self lives, dies, and breathes for these.

the moon aspects make words of affirmation a love language, and synastry with moon-mercury aspects LOVE to hear the other person talk. and then they’re like “you’re so smart :)) i would’ve never thought of that!!” LIKE????? OMG????

got my heart goin pi-ah pa-ah ❤️❣️‼️‼️‼️‼️🫂🫂

also i feel like sun and mercury aspects talk ALL the time?? like they just have so much to talk about and love sharing knowledge with each other. and it’s the kind where you’re like “you know that one thing where..” and the other person is like “YES!!” and you start laughing?? it’s absolutely amazing and i love it.

VENUS-PLUTO ASPECTS

🧍uh..

**crowd screams and runs away**

UGH. okay. whatever. i’m just not like other girls 😒

lemme crack this egg. venus-pluto aspects aren’t easy shit. they put you THROUGH it. drag you by your hair and humble you. BUT IF YOU BREAK UP WITH THE PERSON YOU GOT THIS SYNASTRY WITH... whew. it’s insane. what you realize after, the blessings you receive, the lessons you learn.. it’s like taking the rose-colored glasses off. you’re a changed person. it teaches you what you want/don’t want in love and reveals to you what you need in a relationship.

i know it’s a tough aspect, but in order to love better we gotta learn some lessons, right? it helps to prepare for the one we won’t want to make those mistakes with. it can be more helpful than you think.

not only that, but it’s filled with passion and intensity. it could be my plutonic venus speaking, but 😏 i like a little bit of that 😋 just a drizzle 🤏😁 i want them to be just a bit obsessed with me 😻❤️ i deserve it i think 🙄😒‼️

moving on.

JUPITER IN 2H/8H.

I AM SLAMMING MY TABLE.

me 💁‍♀️ and 😼 benjamin 😁 franco 👍 stay 🛏at 🅰️ the 🎩 banco 💰 getting 👩‍⚖️ checks ✅ like 😈 nike 💪 everywhere 🌎 that ❣️ i 🧍 go 🫂 if 🤨 you 🙏 ain’t ❌ getting 🏆 no 🙅‍♀️ pesos 🪙 qué 😨 estás 😩 haciendo⁉️ stack 🚸 it 😻 up 🆙 like 😒 legos 🧱 quiero🧴 dinero 👩‍💻

love jlo.

truly, she said it best: “yo quiero dinero.” SO DO I‼️‼️ this aspect gives you insane amounts of luxury when you’re with this person. you could be better at the lotto with them, feel abundant, or just your energy is higher to bring in abundance.

but this aspect isn’t all about money though 😒

you could realize new things about yourself or feel more comfortable to try new things with this person. self-discovery never stops. AND it’s enjoyable⁉️ sold. it’s just you two don’t feel like you’ll get judged around each other either because you’re ALWAYS encouraging each other to try new things. jelly tbh 😒

ANY 9H PLACEMENTS

yummylicious. learning with each other and enjoying it if positively aspected :)) it’s gorgeous to have and i feel like it doesn’t get hyped up enough!

you learn things you didn’t know anything about when with each other. you two could be a vastly different, too, but somehow.. it works.

teaching each other things gently and wholesomely. love love this overlay <33.

MOON SEXTILE/TRINE MOON

telling y’all right now.

MOON CONJUNCT MOON IS A SCAM 🤬🤬 y’all will literally understand how each other feels, but like?? idk y’all won’t know how to properly nurture each other. conjunctions are also a subtly harsh aspect, y’all. remember that.

so, in turn, i offer this 🤲:

it’s almost an immediate comfort and attraction, y’all. you guys understand each other SO WELL it’s insane. you guys will know how to nurture each other in the best way. i feel like you will bring out the best of each other emotionally and know how to love the other when they’re feeling down. you guys have your own way of expressing things, but you understand each other’s form of expression. THAT’S what makes it so beautiful.

this is a 10/10 aspect tbh. cherish this. 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

JUPITER-JUNO ASPECTS

this is so cute to me.

jupiter and juno are married, right?? so... why should i explain this.. 🤨‼️

an amazingly abundant and COMMITTED partnership. learning together, being abundant, luck in this relationship, feeling lucky to be with the person..

that ☹️ should 🧍 be 🤝 me 😩 energy.

you guys have a sweet energy around each other. you may pick on each other like an old married couple, but it’s sweet and very humorous. i see you two laughing a lot and one person being charmed by the other. or this could go both ways!! :))

people can see how committed you are to each other and may even want to protect your partnership from malo. they see the value you two have for each other and they love that! this just seems so healthy to me omg.

ANYTHING TOUCHING THE IC.

and finally, this bad boy. :))

good or bad, this is extremely powerful. there is a familiar vibe to this person, and whatever it is touching your or their IC, that’s what it is. you just get that part of the person.

this could be bad if like malefic aspects are here. it could cause you to crack yourself open and see why you are the way you are.

this is amazing in friendships especially. i have this with a few of my buds on here!! <33 the banter is easy and familiar and fun. it’s so lovely omg.

if positively aspected, could mean your/their family loves them/you. :)) that’s so cute 😭😭

thank you guys so much for reading. it means the world to me. i’ve been working on this post for a few months so i could better my knowledge on synastry aspects and overlays. i hope you enjoyed!!

til next time, lovelies!! <33

©thee-achilles 2022

[neon-junkie]

Please Take Me Home - Part.1

Summary: Best friends since childhood - you and Eddie Munson are inseparable! A right pair, friends to the very end.

That is, until Eddie begins chatting with a stranger at a house party, and in your drunken state, your jealousy gets the better of you.

And your feelings.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x f!Reader

Tags: Best friends to lovers, Drinking, House party, Drunken confessions, Jealousy, Angst, Vomitting, Arguments.

Word count: 2.7k

[Part 2 - not posted yet]

Notes: I just love best friends to lovers, like not realising you have feelings for your bestie until something angsty happens. Ahhh!!!!

Loosely inspired by 'Please take me home' by blink-182, my fave band :>

"Which one?" you ask as you flick between two tops, pressing them against your torso in an attempt to mimic how they would look on your body.

"Either," Eddie shrugs. Ugh, no help. This is why you don't ask a man for fashion advice!

With a groan, you turn away to look at your reflection in the mirror, deciding for yourself. Back and forth, you flick between the two shirts, and eventually decide fuck it, and settle on one.

You hook the losing shirt back on your rail, and begin shimmying out of your current clothes, completely unfazed by Eddie who is sitting on your bed. He's seen you in your underwear countless times, as you've seen him in his - you're best friends, why would you be fazed about a little skin showing?

Best friends. Ever since you and your single father moved into a trailer in Forest Hills, back when your adult teeth were still coming through, and when scraped and bruised knees were somewhat of an accessory on you.

Eddie was timid back then, shy and nervous, with his short, almost buzzed hair, and curious doe eyes. You were the one to bridge the gap, offering to teach him how to ride your bike, back when he couldn't afford one of his own. His uncle has done everything in how power to provide for Eddie, even more so when he left his old job and started working at the Plant.

Middle school came and went, followed by High school, only Eddie wasn't fortunate enough to get out when you did. You're both 21 now, old enough to drink and party, and perhaps, one day, graduate.

Well, you graduated years ago, and the idea of college is still on your mind. Maybe one day, when you can afford it, but as of right now, your career in your local arcade is progressing, seeing as you're Assistant Manager.

Eddie loves calling you by your title whenever he pops by.

Speaking of Eddie, he's currently sprawled out on your bed, gawking at the stipple ceiling as you finish putting your outfit together. Your hair and makeup were done long ago, and you were praying on Eddie's fashion advice when he arrived, only it seems he's left your prayers unanswered.

"You okay, Eds?" you question as you take a seat beside him to pull on your leather boots.

"I'm just... not entirely excited for this house party, you know?" Eddie says with a soft shrug.

Ah, yes, the house party that you specifically were invited to. One of your co-workers is hosting, and has urged you to invite as many people as possible. "I wanna trash my new place," he explained when he verbally handed you the invite.

Eddie Munson alone is more than enough for the task, but you decided to invite a few of your own friends, and Eddie's band, seeing as they never leave that grubby garage of theirs, forever held up with sharp music, and sweat from hours of jamming. Fuck, they really stink.

"It'll be fine, you've met my co-workers many times before," you explain as you double-knot your laces. As you stand, you give your toes a wiggle, testing the tightness of your shoes before offering Eddie your hand. "Come on, we still need to pick some booze up."

"Ughhh," Eddie groans as he allows you to pull him up from your bed, his fingers automatically entwining with yours as you pull him out of your room, and through your trailer.

Your father exchanges goodbyes with you, along with a laugh, "call me if you get too drunk, and need picking up."

"We will do," Eddie replies, and sends him a salute before following you out of the trailer door.

Your co-worker's place is a twenty-minute walk from yours, and on the way, you pass a shabby corner shop. Perfect. Neither of you are driving, meaning you can get as fucked up as you please!

Eddie perks up on the walk; the crisp, late Summer air must be doing wonders for him, even more so when he has his first beer in hand. Your co-worker's place comes into your line of sight, and there's already people lingering around outside. The music can be heard thumping through the cheap walls, and you need not knock, welcoming yourself in without any issues.

Greetings are made, not just work your co-worker, but with many others that both you and Eddie recognise. Before you know it, the party is in full swing, and you find yourself tied to a game of beer pong with one of your co-workers frat friends.

Yeah, a frat boy. Who would have thought that such a man would be willing to mingle with a freak like you? Perhaps they aren't so bad, after all.

Either way, you're kicking his ass, not that he seems to mind. "Nice to have a lady in charge," he laughs before downing another one of his beers, followed by crushing the plastic cup in his grasp and tossing it to the floor, as if that was such a difficult task.

You shoot back another sly comment, earning a laugh from the crowd - but no laugh from Eddie.

Speaking of Eddie, where the fuck is he?

He had excused himself minutes ago to "go and piss," as he phrased it, but you're pretty certain Eddie doesn't take this long in the restroom. Whatever. He's a free man, and you're a free woman with a single cause - a cause to get shitfaced.

Beer pong soon finishes, and victory is yours! Chad, as he introduces himself, congratulates you after finishing his beers, making yet another comment about how nice it is to have a woman put him in his place. "Especially in those boots, woah!" Chad exclaims as he notices your chunky leather shoes.

"I take it you're not used to socialising with us freaks, huh?" you laugh, sipping on your drink with ease.

"Hey! I support everybody," Chad cheers. "Freaks and sluts, the lot of you! Everybody is welcome in my house!"

Okay. He's quite the character. Even if this isn't literally his house.

It's nice to have a frat boy on your side, as weird as it feels. You swiftly get hooked into a conversation with him, leaning against the kitchen counter, half-watching another game of beer pong between Eddie's band, and some of your co-worker's friends.

Speaking of Eddie, where the fuck is he? It's been... what? Half an hour since he vanished?

Fearing the worst, you excuse yourself from Chad, muttering something about needing a piss. Your co-worker's house isn't very large, and within minutes you find Eddie, lingering out the back on the porch.

However, he has company.

"Eds!" you gasp as you finally find him, only to lock eyes with his new-found friend.

Eddie casts you a salute, and to your surprise, he seems somewhat irritated by your presence. His new friend is another freak like you, covered head to toe in leather, lace, and fishnets, with heavy makeup, and hair so wild that it can never be tamed.

Oh.

Okay, you see what's going on here.

"I thought you'd fallen into the toilet," you excuse, giving a reason behind your sudden intrusion.

Intrusion. Fuck. That doesn't sound right. He's your best friend, why the fuck would you Intrude on him? You two don't keep secrets, you're both open books, only now you fear that, perhaps, there's a new chapter brewing that he isn't too keen on you seeing.

"I did, but this Princess pulled me out," Eddie explains as he gestures to the stranger, earning a soft laugh from her. "This is Raven," he introduces, before exchanging your name with the stranger.

Raven, ugh. What a stereotypical goth. You've only just met the woman, but for some reason, you hate her.

Maybe it's because her style is far better than yours, or because her dark eyeliner is complimented with a separate layer of gold eyeliner, creating a contrast against her dark skin. Shit, maybe it's because she's pretty. Really fucking pretty.

Too fucking pretty.

"Nice to meet you," you cast her an awkward salute, and she dares to sweetly wave at you, followed by complimenting your shirt.

The shirt that you weren't sure you should wear tonight. "At least someone here has good taste," you sarcastically comment, casting daggers at Eddie.

Raven chuckles at your joke, and okay, maybe you do understand why Eddie is sending her those puppy dog eyes and cheesy smile. You know, the one he usually makes at you.

It seems you've been replaced.

"I'll uh- leave you two to it," you shrug, not wanting to feel any more unwelcome than you already are. Or, well, than you've convinced yourself. Sure, they could just be mingling, two outcasts who currently don't feel like diving head-first into the party.

Or they could be flirting.

Yeah, the second option seems more likely.

Eddie is the type to flirt without realising it. You've had countless people assume you two are a couple, seeing as he speaks to you in such a way. Sweetheart, Darling, Babe, Honey - all pet names, but to you, they're just nicknames.

Just nicknames.

Just friends.

Best friends.

Before either can reply, you duck back into the house, and nudge your way into the heart of the party. Your eyes scan the perimeter; Chad is talking to a small handful of similar looking guys (his frat pals?), your co-worker is sitting on the couch with a few mutual friends, and Eddie's band members have taken up the dining room table.

Prefect.

You go over to your backpack, stored by the front door, and pull out the bottle of sambuca that you brought earlier. It's cheap, and lukewarm, but give yourself a few shots, and the taste will no longer matter.

You grab a cup of punch on the way over, and make your presence well known as you settle down with your friends. Your friends. Not just Eddie's, despite the fact that he introduced you to them. They welcome you with open arms, but also disgust, seeing as you're carrying poison in your grasp.

"May I entice you gentlemen into a drinking game?" you suggest as you take your seat.

Glances are shared between them, and despite their disgust, they agree. "On the condition that we can wash the taste down," Gareth agrees, not wanting the lingering taste of anise in his mouth. Nor do the others.

Perfect.

You've pulled.

You're in luck.

The man of your dreams is on your lips. He's smooth, pale, gorgeous, and accompanying you through this sea of regret and bad decisions.

After rinsing your mouth out with lukewarm water, and wiping your lips with toilet paper, the man of your dreams goes flush! as your latest batch of sick swirls and disappears in the toilet.

Fuck.

How did it come to this? The decor of your co-worker's bathroom spins and swirls, but sets into place as you focus on the sink, sitting down on the bathroom floor. Finally, you no longer feel your guts sprinting up your throat, and for a split second, you feel nothing but peace.

Until there's a knock at the door.

As your eyes move, your surroundings take a second to flow with it, lagging before finally coming into focus. Ugh, someone's pounding at the door, probably desperate for their turn with your man.

Heavy boots meet the tile floor as you push yourself up, clutching onto the chilling walls as you slowly walk over. "Hang on," you groan, before finally introducing your sweaty palm to the doorknob. You unlock the bathroom door, and swing the door open, expecting someone to dash past you and spew in the toilet, unbothered by your presence.

Only, they don't.

"Are you alright?" Eddie questions, his body leaning against the door frame.

Oh, yeah, you almost forgot he existed. Eddie Munson, your best friend of a million years, the man who has seen you through everything, only to drop you for some pretty goth girl that he's met at this house party.

Yeah, beeeest fuckkingggg friiendsssss!

"Baby, I'm stellar," you say with a laugh. "Fucking bitchin', or whatever the phrase is," you groan, and push yourself out of the bathroom, your boots coming into contact with the shabby hallway carpet.

"I heard you chucking your guts up," Eddie states as he fishes his arm around your waist, and pulls your arm over his shoulders. You do nothing but stand there, undecided on your next destination in the party, or target, depending on what you're up for.

Your drunken mind speaks for you, enraged with jealousy. You don't have feelings for your best friend, you totally don't! But it would have been nice for him to, at least, consider you an option before making a move on that stranger. "You heard me over your girlfriend?" you laugh.

"Girlfriend?" Eddie repeats with disgust. "Are you talking about Raven? We've only been hanging out. Not in the mood to party hard, like you," Eddie grumbles, seeming rather appalled by your words, but he makes no effort to remove you from his grasp.

"Oh, so she's a quirky social outcast like you, huh?" you say with a laugh.

Eddie sternly mutters your name, and shrugs your arm from around his shoulder, taking back the helping hand that he offered moments ago. "What's got into you, huh?" Eddie grumbles, his brows furrowing.

You've only seen that expression once before, but there was kindness laced within it. Back in Middle School, you made the foolish decision of chasing after a boy that was only stringing you along, and Eddie was there to lovingly tell you off after he warned you about the mess you were about to put yourself in.

And now, it seems you're in another mess, only there is no loving gaze laced within Eddie's expression.

"Alcohol," you mindlessly shrug, and let out a soft laugh, attempting to lighten the situation.

Eddie huffs, "I see what's going on here," he mutters. His eyes flick to the stairs, mentally calculating how he's going to assist you down them, before focusing back on you. "Come on, I'm taking you home," Eddie practically orders.

To make things worse, you stir the pot even more. You peer over your shoulder, and let out a laugh as you reply, "huh? Oh, you're talking to me? I thought Raven was behind me!"

Eddie is visibly seeing red, his fists bunching up at his side. "I'm not dealing with this," he abruptly huffs. "Either you let me take you home now, or you can... shit!"

"What is it?" you grumble, and reach out to hold onto the wall, keeping your unstable body upright.

Subconsciously, Eddie begins drumming his foot against the floor. His hands cross over his chest, and he refuses to meet your gaze. "I was going to tell you to make your own way home, but I can't do that to my best friend, alright?"

His eyes meet yours, and only now do you feel bad for riling him up. Shit. Best friend. He's your best friend in the whole wide world, and you've got worked up over a girl that he met only hours ago.

"Best friend," you scoff. Your feet begin moving for you, and before you realise, you're slowly making your way down the stairs. Best friend.

Best. Friend.

"I'm staying for a little longer," you explain on your slow decline, not looking over your shoulder at Eddie, who is watching you from the top of the stairs. "Go back to your girlfriend," you scoff, biting the bullet once more.

Your feet meet the bottom of the stairs, and under your breath, you mumble, "it's not like I was ever an option," before making your way back into the heat of the party.

Eddie, who, for once in his life, is relatively sober at a house party, heard your drunken mutter. His fists clench tighter, and without a second thought, he makes his way into the bathroom. Silence. A moment alone. A minute with his thoughts. That's all he needs right now, some time to consider if your drunken rambling is just that - drunken rambling - or a confession slipping through your lips.

[tomhardyspinkyfinger]

Freddie Gets Caught

Masterlist

Summary: Freddie promises to be loyal, but lying always tops loyalty in Freddie's world.

Warnings: PURE SMUT. literal filth. Cursing and super kinky sex all around you've been warned.

A/N: yeah i really just had this idea and needed to write it. freddie needs to be put in his place and so here is this one shot. no one look at me im so ashamed. its hot tho i wont lie lmao. also hardly edited I wrote this so quick it was like flowing out

Word count: 1885

some people I think would like this: @hecatemoon87 @solomons-finest-rum @darklydeliciousdesires @potter-solomons (also known as some of my fave pages)

I had been seeing this guy Freddie for a few weeks now.

Well, fucking. I've been fucking this guy Freddie for a few weeks.

And god did he fuck.

He all but begged me for a shag when I first met him at the bar I worked at. I declined time and time again, but he kept showing up every night. I had to give props to him for his resilience but I didn't have sex with just anyone.

So I set guidelines.

1. I don't do one night stands, we don't have to date, but there will be a mutually pleasurable relationship.

2. During this brief relationship, the only people we fuck is each other.

Two very simple guidelines, if we fuck, we fuck exclusively.

"Freddie, do you understand?" I had asked him, pulling away from his firm kiss.

"Yeah yeah yeah, c'mon take this off." Freddie rushed out, pushing the straps of my dress down and pushing me against the wall of the dark alley.

That exchange was simple enough, he agreed to my terms and I gave him what we both wanted, a proper fuck.

Freddie was a possessive man in all aspects of our relationship, if by any rare chance we were out in public together his hand remained on my ass practically the entire time, and I can't say I didn't love it.

What I didn't love, was how aggressively possessive he could be. I couldn't look at another bloke without him blowing up on me, so we usually stayed at my flat to fuck to avoid his anger flare ups. But that time alone seemed to flare Freddie's emotions towards me.

He'd call, begging to come to my flat and fuck me senseless. I just couldn't find the space in my heart to deny him. And thus, our romantic relationship began.

It wasn't healthy in any aspect, he would do a line, shout at me, I'd hit him, he'd fuck me twice as hard.

Not healthy at all. But god was it fucking sexy.

It would always end pleasantly though, a hug a kiss and a back massage usually. He'd plea with me to forgive him and I always did.

Forgiving Freddie was usually pretty easy, until I caught him, which brings us to where I am now, staring at Freddie kissing a beautiful blonde woman outside of a hair salon she had just exited. Before I could second guess myself I walked up to the happy couple with a smile on my face.

"Excuse me, do you happen to have the time?" I questioned her. If I could've taken a photo of Freddie's face in that moment I would've. He paled instantly, his eyes widening while the pretty blonde smiled back at me.

"Of course love, its half past two." She spoke looking down at her watch. I spotted the beautiful diamond ring and I could feel more anger growing if possible.

"Thank you, your ring is absolutely gorgeous by the way." I said, still not looking at Freddie and smiling at the woman. She placed her hand on Freddie's chest and let out a chuckle.

"My Freddie knows how to spoil me!" She said, rubbing his chest, flashing her ring. I tied up the conversation and walked down the street, heading towards my flat. I heard Freddie telling the woman to go on home without him because he had work to attend to. At this I picked up the pace, arriving to my flat that wasn't very far away. I heard his steps running behind me, most likely delayed so he could make sure his wife was gone. I unlocked my door quickly, swinging it open and rushing in, attempting to slam it behind me.

Freddie slammed into the door just in time and shoved it open, clearly out of breath.

"Sweetheart, listen-"

"Get the fuck out, Freddie." I growled, moving to my bedroom and tossing my purse on my dresser. He grabbed me and turned me around, distress clear on his face.

"What can I do to make you forgive me? I'll do anything." He said, desperation clear in his voice.

Anything?

"Get on your knees." I spoke, crossing my arms. He released me, confusion clear on his face.

"What?"

"You heard me, do it or get out." I said. I watched as he slowly lowered himself to his knees, looking up at me.

"Beg for my forgiveness Freddie." Freddie let out a huff and paused for a moment, really debating if he was going to do this.

"Please forgive me my love, I should have told you about Jackie. I was going to break it off with her, honest."

Yeah, sure.

I pondered for a moment.

"Take your clothes off and lay on the bed." I commanded. He let out another breath and stood, beginning to do what I asked. When he completed the task. I climbed on top of him, straddling his boxer-covered cock that was pushing into my panty covered core, given I was just wearing a summer dress.

I began to kiss up his chest to his neck, nibbling the spot I knew he loved. His eyes closed and he let out a shaky moan. I quietly reached into the nightstand to the right of me and pulled out the cuffs he had used on me in numerous situations. I pushed his hands above his head with my non-occupied hand and cuffed them quickly.

His eyes snapped open and met mine. I smirked.

"What is this? Trying to take charge are we?" Freddie asked, a sly smirk gracing his features.

"You don't get to be smug now Freddie. Just you wait." I said, pushing myself down his body so I was now leaning over his growing member. I pulled his boxers down and placed him in my mouth suddenly.

"Oh fuck, that's right sweetheart, right there." Freddie moaned out. I continued pleasuring him exactly how I liked. Until a knock sounded out on my front door. Freddie halted his movements and held his breath momentarily. I slid off the bed and stood, smiling at his frustrated expression.

"Excuse the interruption darling, I told my friend Kelly she could borrow my camera for her holiday this weekend. I'll only be a moment." I began to walk towards the bedroom door when Freddie called out.

"Do not fucking leave me here, do you fucking hear me?" He all but yelled, anger growing.

"Oh sweet Freddie, if only you were in any position to be making demands. If I'm honest I've heard quite enough from you today." Freddie watched as I reached up under my dress, pulling my soaked panties down and off. I walked up to his tied up frame and pushed the balled up panties into his mouth.

"That's much better, isn't it?" He glared at me but his cock twitched.

"Oh Freddie, you like this don't you darling?" I teased, touching his tip with my finger. He exhaled loudly from his nose and I smiled wider. I left the room, shutting the door.

I welcomed Kelly in, handing her the camera and starting a small chat.

Well, a small chat that turned into a thirty minute conversation about her upcoming holiday. I was practically squirming at the idea of Freddie tied up on my bed, anxiously awaiting my return. The conversation shifted towards me with Kelly asking,

"How's that bloke you've been seeing? Freddie?" I smiled a wicked smile.

"He's married." Kelly gasped.

"What the hell are you smiling about? Let me have a go at this bloke!" She yelled, anger clear on her face.

"Oh no don't worry, he's in the room right there cuffed to the bed with my panties in his mouth, he'll have learned his lesson by the end of the day." I spoke, knowing Freddie could hear. Kelly's jaw dropped and she laughed.

"You dirty girl! I would say you're yanking my chain, but I know you better than that. I'll be out of your hair then, but that doesn't mean you get to spare me any details!" Kelly said, heading towards the door.

"Of course not, have a great holiday!" With short and sweet goodbyes, I reentered the bedroom, where Freddie laid with his face almost as red as the tip of his cock.

"Miss me?" The glare Freddie gave sent a chill down my spine, but as of now I was in charge, and the repercussions wouldn't be a problem yet. I noticed my panties stayed in his mouth, which widen my smirk. He very easily could have spit them out if he wanted to.

I stripped off the remaining clothes I had on slowly, letting him take in my body before mounting him again. I reached into my nightstand again, retrieving a condom and rolling it on his still rock hard cock. His breathing was heavy again, and watched as I slowly eased myself down on him.

I rocked my hips back and forth and let out a moan. I placed both hands on his chest and rocked faster, smiling at how hard his knuckles were clenched in the cuffs. I rode him until we were both close, but came to a stop suddenly. Freddie let out a loud groan. I pulled my panties out of his mouth.

"Beg me to let you come, Freddie." I said, holding still with him inside of me.

"When I'm out of these cuffs, you're going to fucking get it babe." Freddie growled out, trying to move his hips. I gently smacked his face, halting his movements.

"That's not what I wanted to hear baby boy." He closed his eyes and groaned, knowing he needed to give me what I want.

"Please, please, let me come." Freddie all but whined out.

Music to my ears.

I began rocking my hips back and forth quickly, both of our moans filling the room.

"Let go Freddie." I commanded, feeling my impending orgasm. We both came together, loud moans falling from both of our mouths. I collapsed on his chest, exhausted from the event.

I reached up and uncuffed him before rolling off of him and onto my side of the bed. He put an arm around me and grabbed a cig from the nightstand, lighting up and taking a puff. He placed it in-between my lips and let me inhale before speaking.

"I deserve much worse than what you did love, I'm sorry for lying." I exhaled the smoke from my lungs.

"It doesn't matter Freddie, I would've kept fucking you regardless." I said.

What? Don't judge, I already said our relationship was unhealthy.

"Let's just go to bed Freddie, I'm beat." He nodded and I snuggled closer into him, falling asleep almost instantly

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

I awoke late into the night, feeling the warmth of Freddie's arms around my legs, his face pushed into my pussy, licking away hungrily. I moaned, overjoyed with this late night wake up call. I went to put my hands in his hair and hold him in place, but my wrists were stopped by cold metal. Freddie kissed his way up my body and out from under the blankets, looking at me with a smirk.

"I couldn't just let you get away with all of that, love."

Fuck.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

9 for my fave lesbians✌️

they really are my absolute fave lesbians i’m sorry this took a while but it was really lovely to write so i hope it ended up okay 🙈

9. the hug that feels like home

Darcy slumped into her seat next to Tara and let her bag fall onto the floor. Tara had already turned to her with her usual open, sunny smile, and with barely any hesitation, she swooped in with a quick kiss. It drew a smile out of Darcy, unpreventable and predictable, but not entirely as easy as usual. She knew it showed, because with one real look at her face, Tara was frowning in faint concern. 

Darcy urged her smile wider. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Tara replied, bumping their shoulders together. “You okay?”

“Yeah!” Darcy replied with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “Yeah, I’m good. Happy to see you, aren’t I?” she teased.

She knew Tara wouldn’t be so easily convinced or dismissed, but the classroom was filling up, and Elle’s gaze had followed her to her seat after she didn’t quite get the usual pep into her passing greeting. But she knew she didn’t have to convince Tara of anything. Tara knew her better than anyone else and would understand perfectly what the issue was likely to be without any words exchanged between them. 

She’d know that, mainly, Darcy wasn’t currently in the mood to talk about it. 

Tara did, indeed, only hum contemplatively back, playfully narrowing her eyes even while she snuck her hand into Darcy’s atop Darcy’s lap and gave a comforting squeeze. Darcy tangled her fingers with Tara’s and allowed herself, briefly, to lean into the familiar warmth of Tara’s side as the form room filled up. She met Elle’s eyes, too, sometime amidst the roll call, and gave what she hoped was a reassuring grin. Elle smiled softly, warmly back, and some more of the irritated knots in Darcy’s chest loosened. 

But this couldn’t last—Tara, or Elle, wouldn’t be with her in every class, and her mood took an almost immediate dip after the brief reprieve of form. It wasn’t that she didn’t have other friends in other classes, but it was that those other friends were just friends. Not friends. Not people who would see past her one meager smile and care enough to ask what was up; or that she would answer, even if they did. 

And she’d had more, before. When her being a lesbian was just a quirky character trait that wasn’t affecting anyone else. When they could keep her, somewhat, in a box they approved of. Like her parents frequently attempted—and continuously failed—to do. 

By the time lunch rolled around, her irritation had drawn on a headache that furthered her irritation in a vicious cycle. It was a testament to how bad she must have looked, when even Elle arrived at their table and stopped before sitting down. She tilted her head at Darcy while carefully pulling out her seat and laying her bag on the table. “Are you okay?”

“Mmhm,” Darcy mumbled, picking up a Monster Munch and twirling it between her fingers. She raised it a few inches, then dropped it back in the bag with a grimace. “Horrendous headache. Currently extremely glad we haven’t got music today.”

Elle cringed sympathetically. “Ugh, the worst. Do you want some painkillers? I think I’ve got a few in my bag.”

She began rifling through, and before Darcy could wave a dismissal, Tara was settling down at her side. “What do you need painkillers for?”

“It’s just a headache,” Darcy assured. “I don’t need any, it’s alright.”

“You sure?” Elle asked, pausing her search. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s fine. A nap will be the best and only real cure.”

Tara made a sad sound on her behalf, and Darcy felt her stomach twist as fingers suddenly weaved in her hair, smoothing gently along her scalp. She breathed out an almost inaudible sigh as Tara drew her head down onto her shoulder and pet carefully through her hair. “There, there,” Tara teased while Darcy closed her eyes, although it was too soft to really be joking. “Just don’t actually fall asleep on me, okay? Lunch isn’t long enough.”

“For a ten-to-fifteen minute nap it is,” Darcy tried, snuggling into Tara’s neck as Tara humphed. 

“Come on. Do I need to feed you?”

“Ugh, please don’t,” Elle interrupted. When Darcy peeled her eyes open to look at her, she was grinning. “This is already too much sickening sweetness for me. I swear, I can’t escape it now with Nick and Charlie too.”

Darcy raised a brow at her, though she knew she wouldn’t have the usual energy for this conversation. Their presence had given her a little boost, though, and they would likely notice more if she didn’t take this opportunity as well. So she put on her best tone of exaggerated innocence and said, “Well, you know what they say. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

Elle gave her the usual, highly-unimpressed look, and Darcy’s smile was no longer forced as she sank into the normality of it. 

Then a girl giggled in passing, pulling a face at Tara and Darcy before mumbling to her friend. “Ew, as if. They think everyone’s like them, don’t they?”

Darcy felt Tara tense up under her, and her headache spiked and turned her vision red as she sat up straight. “I’m sorry, what makes you think we’d want you?”

The girl froze, meeting Darcy’s gaze with a wide-eyed look, clearly not expecting the address. She looked nervously at her friend, who shifted awkwardly beside her, then back to Darcy, unsure. 

Darcy raised her brows. “Yeah, I’m talking to you. Go on, then. What makes you think we’d want you to be part of our exclusive club, hm?”

“Darcy,” Tara mumbled quietly, her hand tangling in the side of Darcy’s blazer. Under the table. Darcy knew that she’d already drawn attention. That the racket of the cafeteria had died down to curious, excited whispers; that glances were being flicked at them less and less conspicuously. 

It only flared Darcy’s irritation higher, a sort of righteous anger that usually never outweighed her own comfort and confidence in herself. She really was tired. Tired of needing to be confident, of wondering how angry she should really be—of doubting the point of either. She was tired of everyone else feeling like they were due an opinion on her life rather than dealing with their own. 

The girl shot her friend another look. Darcy wasn’t quite sure what year they were in—if they were slightly older or slightly younger or roughly the same. God, they were so entitled, and she didn’t even know their names. 

“What?” Darcy demanded, when the two continued to stand there, silent. “Nothing to say now that you can’t pretend we don’t hear you? Or have you just realised you didn’t even know what we were talking about in the first place and your little comment made no sense to begin with?”

Finally the girl straightens her shoulders, tilting her chin up. “You know, I didn’t care you were gay or whatever, but like, you’ve just gotten really rude.”

Darcy barely held back an incredulous, hysterical burst of laughter. “Are you joking?” She looked to Tara and Elle. “Really, is she being serious right now?”

Darcy could see her annoyance reflected in Elle’s eyes, their gazes locked in understanding. Tara was looking at her searchingly. Her anger was only visible in the minute working of her jaw, of the tight clench of her hand still curled in Darcy’s blazer. 

Tara looked up at the girls and leveled them with her most unimpressed stare, complete with one cocked brow and a tilted head. “Was that all?”

The girls stared at them for another moment before walking away. Darcy let out a harsh breath as Tara’s hand raised to settle gently on her shoulder. 

“God, it’s like they really can’t hear themselves speak,” Elle sighed. “You’d think they’d be fed up by now.”

“People like that never get tired of themselves. Think of Harry,” Tara pointed out. She gave Darcy’s shoulder a slight squeeze and lowered her voice. “Are you okay?” 

“Fine,” Darcy said, too sharp. Her adrenaline hadn’t entirely died down, and the ache taking over her skull had gotten worse. “I think I just need—I’ll be back in a bit.”

Before either of them could question her, she was on her feet and heading out of the cafeteria. She didn’t know where exactly she planned on going; her feet carried her in the direction of her and Tara’s music room before she decided against it, knowing it would likely be the first place Tara checked if she came looking. There weren’t all that many places Darcy could go where Tara wouldn’t find her relatively quickly, anyway, but if she could give herself a few more minutes, maybe it would be enough to fix her mood. 

But she only made it outside and settled herself on the ground with her back to the wall for a moment before Tara was sitting next to her. Darcy had her arms wrapped around her legs and her head buried in her knees, willing some of the pain down with deep breaths, and couldn’t see her. But she had no doubt who it was. There was only ever one person it would be. 

Tara sat next to her quietly, close enough for Darcy to feel her presence, but not actually touching. The message was clear—she wouldn’t push Darcy to talk, and she would give her space, but she was here. She wouldn’t leave Darcy alone. 

It made Darcy feel worse even while bringing her comfort. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. 

Tara sounded genuinely confused when she responded, “What for?”

“I shouldn’t have bothered saying anything. It just gave everyone something else to whisper about and of course it didn’t help anything, anyway.”

There was a short silence; a hesitation. “You don’t usually let that sort of thing bother you, but you’ve been down all day. What’s wrong?”

Darcy didn’t—couldn’t—answer. She offered up a shrug, which became more of an awkward, full-body jostle in her position. 

“Darcy,” Tara said softly. She shifted closer. Darcy felt a light grip on her left arm. “Come on, you can talk to me.”

“It’s not even about anything,” Darcy protested, though she took a breath and raised her head. She tilted it back against the wall to look at Tara, who was twisted slightly sideways to better see Darcy. 

“It’s got to be something. You don’t get like this for no reason.” Tara shifted around even further so that she could directly face Darcy, though still remained at her side. She stretched her free hand over so she was holding onto both of Darcy’s arms. “Did your parents say something?”

Darcy glanced aside, which was probably already answer enough, if Tara’s quiet sigh was anything to go by. “Nothing new.”

“But it’s upset you more than usual,” Tara deduced. 

There wasn’t any denying that, at this stage, so Darcy didn’t bother. She pulled her lips between her teeth a few times thoughtfully. “It’s just—it’s everywhere, now.”

Tara caressed her arms softly. “What’s everywhere?”

“All this…disappointment.”

Tara blinked. She sat back slightly. “Who do you think disappointed in you?”

“Well, my parents, for one, obviously,” Darcy started off, ducking her head with a sniff. “Apparently the entire school population. I don’t get it. They never—I’ve been out, this whole time, and they didn’t treat me like this before. I could—I’d come here, and not care, and be myself. And it wouldn’t be anything like it is at home. And I’d have you, and we’d…God.” She looked back up at Tara, who was watching her with such sincere sympathy that her guilt grew. The pressure pricking at her eyes was no longer just from a headache. “They always told me I make things so difficult, and it always just pissed me off, but that’s exactly what I have done to you.”

Tara’s face fell further. “Darcy—”

Darcy barged on. “Now I just keep thinking…maybe they’re right. Maybe if I was different then it would be better, and it wouldn’t be like—”

“Darcy,” Tara cut her off, reaching up to cup her cheeks and look at her directly. When she was sure Darcy’s mouth had snapped firmly shut, she leaned in and pressed a light kiss to it. Her thumbs stroked the skin under Darcy’s eyes, and the gentle, rhythmic motion eased some of the pounding in her skull. Tara leaned her head against Darcy’s and kept looking at her, even though this left their eyes flicking back and forth because they were too close to settle on both at once. “If you were different, you wouldn’t be you,” Tara said, softly; simply. “And I wouldn’t love you like I do.”

Perhaps it should have been too simple to cause such a drastic response, but all the lingering tension drained out of Darcy. Warmth was spreading through her, and she could already feel a smile tugging at her lips. 

She couldn’t help it. “You’re a poet and you don’t even know it.”

She expected Tara’s unimpressed look leveled at her, but received an unbearably fond smile instead. “There you are.”

Darcy laughed, a small bubble of joy that popped almost as soon as it escaped her, but a spark of laughter nonetheless. It made Tara smile wider as she stroked over Darcy’s cheeks once more, then tugged her into her arms. Darcy sank into her now with absolutely no resistance. It was the most pleasant place she could have imagined ending up, if she was being honest. She began sort of wishing she had headed to their special room; it would have only been another special memory added. 

But as Tara tangled her fingers in her hair and pressed a kiss to her temple, holding her tighter, Darcy knew it had little to do with the room. It hadn’t ever really been the school that made her feel safe, and the house she lived in with her parents was just that. Tara was home. Here, right in Tara’s hold, was where she found shelter and comfort and the space to be herself. To be one half of them. 

“You’re allowed to be annoyed and upset and fed up sometimes too, you know,” Tara told her. “I can suck it up for both of us when you need me to.”

Darcy huffed another amused sound and tucked her arms tighter around Tara’s back. “It does really suck, sometimes.”

“I know.” Tara adjusted the hug so Darcy was nestled more closely against her, arms overlapping at each other’s backs and head over heart. “But I think it’ll get better.”

hug prompts

[drabbles-mc]

Send a character ask game: Taza & Nestor

Ooo let's do this!

Taza Romero-

First impression: When I first started watching Mayans, I didn't really have any strong feelings about Taza one way or the other. I liked the chill energy and vibe that he gave off, but he wasn't a character that I initially felt very drawn towards.

Impression now: I wanna shake the man by his shoulders in the hopes it will knock some sense loose in his head. 😂 So much could've been avoided or at least handled differently if he just talked about what was going on! However that being said, I do really enjoy his character and I'm curious to see what they're going to do with his storyline next.

Favorite moment: Early seasons quips with Bish will always have a special place in my heart. And the little exchange with him and Creeper will always be a top-ranking moment for me 😂

Idea for a story: I have a request for him sitting in my inbox right now that I'm hoping to get started on today that I'm very excited about! Being able to build his character out a little more and give him a current (and less-heartbreaking) love story is something I'm super thrilled about getting into.

Unpopular opinion: I don't think it's necessarily unpopular but I think the fact that Taza didn't rock Bishop's entire shit at some point during s4 was a crime. I wanna see the man throw hands at the ex-president idc 😂

Favorite relationship: Early seasons I can easily say that he and Bish were my favorite. But I did also love the complicated relationship between him and Laura as well.

Favorite headcanon: It's come to my attention that never in the show is it ever actually stated that Taza lives on a ranch. But the actor who plays him does and that's just bled over into the characterization of the character for a lot of people in the fandom (myself included) and I really love that for us.

Nestor Oceteva-

First impression: Believe it or not, I was pretty indifferent about Nestor at first. I wasn't overly drawn to his character because he was so entwined with Galindo and I've disliked Miguel from the jump lmao. When I first got into the show, I definitely thought he was very attractive, and that scene where he and Bishop fight and smile afterwards definitely made me 👀 But he wasn't really on my radar at first.

Impression now: I love him, your honor. He's my character now, sorry Elgin. But real talk, the arc that he's had so far for someone who is such a minor character is really interesting to me.

Favorite moment: What isn't my favorite moment? 😂 I do really love the exchange with him and Marcus (I think it's in s2?) after they save Marcus from Hobart. A very close runner-up is the scene in s3 where Nestor has the gun to Marcus's head in the car because Gino's acting in that scene is just soooo chef's kiss. But the sweet moment between the two of them wins out for me

Idea for a story: I wish I could let y'all lose inside my head so you could take the plot ideas you like and write them because I never know if I'm going to get around to them all 😂 I have a few different AU's bouncing around in my head where Nestor has a younger sister and godddd I love the potential in the dynamic so much

Unpopular opinion: If Nestor never sees Miguel again it will still be too soon. That man never gave a fuck about Nestor and I'm glad Nestor dumped his ass 😂 (Miguel really is my enemy #1 in the show I love to hate him so I'm biased lmao)

Favorite relationship: Nestor and Marcus. I love the growth of that dynamic and I think that Marcus could be the mentor that Nestor has always needed.

Favorite headcanon: Bruh anything family-based for Nestor is an absolute fave of mine. I love thinking about what his relationship with his brother was like (and by extension Miguel as well). I love the idea of him with a younger sister. I love thinking about how complicated his relationship with his parents might be. UGh the family drama thoughts I'm obsessed

Send me a character and let's discuss!

[olderthannetfic]

Ah, I do see your points, anon. I'm not going to post all your asks publicly because if you really feel that unsafe, it's probably best not to have a bigass chunk of your text for people to analyze and try to guess your identity from. I think one of the best points you made is about how close to home it hits when the non-fave is not only your fave but is similar to you in some way like demographic. You're not wrong for having those emotions. I do wonder if they make it hard to see how some other people feel similarly embattled on other axes.

TBH, I think one of the big problems here is that the large aggregate patterns you're talking about are racist, but most individual fics and fans are not really the problem. It's hard to know how to talk about this or who to tell to "fix" it when we're looking at free, hobbyist art.

A lot of people's tastes are certainly formed by shitty society, but once they're formed, they don't change fast if at all. Asking someone to rewrite their libido is a big ask, yet tumblr does it all the time as though it's as simple as snapping your fingers.

This leaves me with the sense that a lot of tumblr is... like... the political lesbians of porn fic or something: desire is not real, only choosing based on logic and politics. Or maybe people are so asexual that they just don't understand the lizard brain's "YES!" at some porn things and complete indifference to others?

I don't think it's great if great swaths of people feel like bottom!Nicky is super hot and top!Nicky fundamentally isn't, but I also don't think they can necessarily just turn it off like flipping a switch.

(If someone reading this doesn't like their current tastes and wants to attempt to alter them, I do think it's possible. What you should do is line up a large slate of media that prominently features characters of the ethnicity or whatever that you don't find hot/interesting. These should be leads whose emotional development drives the plot and is supposed to be central to the audience's enjoyment of the media. Watch/read/etc. this media all the time. All. The. Time. Try out many pieces because you won't like every character or every show, and we're looking for genuine enjoyment, not the fandom equivalent of a pity fuck. Spend enough time on this, and your unconscious sense of who's hot and interesting will eventually shift somewhat. This is a project you should expect to take a few years.)

But I digress.

The one tweet thing is a very toxic pattern. If TOG fandom is doing that, guys, please try to be more conscious of holding the actors of color to a higher standard (or the women or whomever). I know this often comes from a place of paying more attention to our own and wanting to set a good standard, but the effect is that minorities can't fuck up ever while white dudes get infinite passes.

Okay, on to the fic thing... Gotta say, my instant reaction to that description is "Ooh!"--as it would be for the same scenario with the characters reversed. (Ships who start out trying to kill each other are my favorite! x1000 if they're resurrecting style immortals and they literally do.) I can see how it would feel like slamming into a brick wall if you aren't kinky in just the right way and you didn't know it was coming though.

Part of why I react so strongly to a lot of discourse that runs along these lines is that I am a naturally extremely kinky person. It's not so much about what I do (which as a deeply lazy person in a long distance relationship is essentially nothing), but it's absolutely how I'm wired.

And I can tell you that my quotidian experience in fandom is sharing something I don't even realize is a big deal only to have someone I like, respect, and trust react in horror and tell me that it's triggering and awful and should not be allowed in fandom spaces because it makes "people" unsafe. It's such an instant, kneejerk reaction they don't even realize I was sharing it because it spoke to the very core of me. Lesson learned, friend. Lesson learned.

That sounds a bit off topic, I know, but bear with me: The point of that anecdote is that it's pretty common for me to get people trying to raise my awareness of things I have already thought deeply about while denying my essential humanity and not even realizing. As a kinky person who likes to make my fave the top (and generally a conflicted sadist), this constant request to explain and justify is exhausting.

I doubt most of the top!Joe fans have this precise problem simply because people who make their fave the top are much less common in fandom than people who make their fave the bottom, but I see a similar pattern with fans who are just fundamentally wired for rape fantasies (one of the most common fantasies that exists) vs. fans who just don't get rape fantasies at all. Or substitute your BDSM/kinky/messed up fantasy trope of choice. Covertly radical feminist attitudes towards kink and power are on the rise in fandom, and as a naturally kinky person, boy do I notice it!

I know that it feels like crucial activism to share these insights about why the ratio of top!Joe is hurtful, and the pain you feel is real. But it's also the case that it's a big ask to want people to listen. (Not me. Obviously, I routinely choose to engage with discourse. I mean overall.) The reason for that is that you're only seeing a fraction of what they do or who they are, and you don't know how many previous people they've listened to how many previous times. It's a very different situation from someone whose job is making some major TV series or movie or something. That person does, in my opinion, owe you some amount of listening.

Now, I'm not saying no top Joe fan was ever a jerk. I'll bet they were. There's a tendency to be rude and to publicly air your schadenfreude when you feel like everyone has been yelling at you. What I am saying is that a lot of the problem here boils down to conflicting needs, and that means there isn't a good solution. It's a situation where people are genuinely hurt, but I don't necessarily agree that other people have harmed them.

I like that you did an actual count of the explicit fics, btw. It's good to look at the real numbers. I see too little of that in these situations. My off the cuff reaction is that 2/3 to 1/3 is not a bad ratio at all compared to many fandoms, but yeah, it definitely shows a strong trend, and that can be painful. (I have a fandom where I think there's maybe like 1 bottom so-and-so fic in the entire zine era fandom. One. It's pretty extreme.)

I guess my thinking here overall is: What is the practical solution? What are we hoping to gain? What is reasonable to ask of people?

And it can't be "Well, if they would just listen..." That's just a sneaky way of saying "If you haven't done it my way, it's because you haven't listened to me yet."

So the question I would ask of people is this:

What does a non-racist fic where Joe tops look like?

What does a non-racist sex pollen, dubcon, or even noncon fic where Joe tops look like?

And if you say the latter is impossible... well... sadists exist everywhere in the world. So do doms. So do people who prefer to top in a purely physical sense. People with rape fantasies where they're the rapist exist (people who are not actually rapists, I mean). None of this is restricted to any one group. We can't categorically say fic like that about Joe is coming from a place of racism without denying the fundamental humanity of kinky MENA people who'd want to make Joe like themselves or like their ideal partner. (Yes, I agree this won't be the majority of fic writers writing top!Joe, but this is a place to start for figuring out what the better version would look like.)

IDK, maybe you're that kinkster yourself, but your asks gave me the vibe that you don't really get the drive towards those darker kinds of fics and what might be motivating it besides stereotypes and shittiness.

If we can answer these kinds of questions, we can better critique the way people write what they write without telling them all of their taste is bad and they should just stop writing. Even if we think the latter is true, it isn't going to get us anywhere. Figuring out how to make Joe more multidimensional in the fic they already want to write or finding very specific wording that should be avoided might actually work.

Beyond that, the actions I think are productive would be running prompt fests, exchanges, or other events for bottom!Joe or for top!Joe where he's the main character and the fics are required to be from his POV. Themed collections and recs lists are great. (I've seen a bit of this going around in TOG fandom in the past, and that's an excellent approach! Keep it up!) Positive actions tend to work better here. Make more of what you want. Promote what you want to see.

I don't mean this in some fluffy magical thinking way: you aren't going to change that ratio radically just by the power of positivity. But I've seen this kind of thing play out in many, many fandoms, and going after the people who write what you don't like, even in a well-intentioned effort to educate and even in a polite, kind way doesn't do much. A few people feel guilty. A few feel defensive. A lot ignore you. The overall fic doesn't change. It's not a good use of your limited time and energy.

I'm off to look up that fic to see what I think of it in practice, but I'm going to post this before tumblr manages to eat it.

[beelsnack]

Bad Influence - Beelsnack's 666 Follower Special!!

(Technically I'm over 666 - shoutout to the porn bots)

But seriously, holy shit, there's a lot of you. Thank you all so much for liking my stuff, and for interacting with me and sending me good vibes and all of that. I hope I can keep giving you guys quality work!!

And yes, I am a nerd and I consider 666 a milestone for a blog for a bunch of demons. No, I'm not sorry.

-----

Lucifer: He couldn’t help but wonder when the change had set in.

When the human first arrived in the Devildom, they had been humble and meek. If anyone complimented them, they deflected it with the mastery and resignation of someone who had been doing it for far longer than they should have. And if someone thanked them? You would think their entire world was dissolving around them.

But now?

He extended a gloved hand towards them as they descended the stairs. Tonight was one of the rare nights where they had the opportunity to be alone without one of his brothers tagging along, and they had been planning this date for nearly a week now. They slipped their hand in his without any of the hesitation they would have shown at first. They knew they deserved his reverence.

“You look radiant as always, my dear,” he curled his fingers around theirs as they reached the bottom step, bringing the backs of their knuckles to his lips. “Surely there is no star in the sky that could outshine you.”

They laughed - his theatrics always did amuse them. “You do have amazing taste, after all.”

He chuckled as well, guiding the two of them to the front door. “Of course. Do you think the Avatar of Pride would associate with anyone less than the best?”

“Definitely not,” the wind that came through the door when they opened it blew their hair away from their face, and Lucifer couldn’t help but preen at the fact that he had helped that quivering little animal grow into the proud swan that stood before him.

“Speaking of the best, where are we going for dinner?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he laughed as they made their way out into the night. “You deserve the world, and the world you shall get.”

“Unless ‘the world’ means a steak dinner, I’m not interested.”

Mammon: “Come on, don’t leave me hangin’ out here!”

The curtain covering the entrance to the changing room rustled, and Mammon heard a faint “Fine, fine, just give me a sec!” before it finally opened and out stepped the human.

Mammon always thought they looked good no matter what they were wearing, even if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. Actually, especially if it was one of his old t-shirts and a pair of shorts. But seeing them decked out in his fashion brand - one he had both designed and modeled - was definitely making him feel some type of way.

He let out a low whistle when they stopped in front of the chair he had seated himself in. The results of his own shopping spree were tucked haphazardly into a colorful assortment of bags at his feet, but the human had taken a bit longer than he did picking out their stuff. And damn, was he glad they did, because otherwise he wouldn’t get the chance to see them modeling his clothes.

It was a private fashion show, just for him.

The outfit itself was pretty simple. A black fitted tee beneath a cropped leather jacket, a pair of faded dark-blue skinny jeans, and a pair of black sneaks with a gold stripe going up the side. But the thing that brought the whole outfit together was the long necklace with a topaz pendent resting against their breastbone.

“Well?” they asked, giving him a spin before striking a pose before him. “What do you think?”

For a moment, he couldn’t speak. The human wearing his clothes...it was the next best thing to them walking around with “I Belong To Mammon” tattooed on their forehead.

“I, uh...I guess you...um,” he swallowed thickly. “Ya look alright, I guess.”

“That’s tsundere for ‘you look hot,’ right?” they grinned before spinning around to look in the mirror. “Man, this is a whole look! I have to have it!”

If this had been a few months ago, the human would have waffled back and forth about whether or not to buy anything. It didn’t matter how much they wanted something, it was almost like they just couldn’t do anything nice for themselves. There was being frugal, and then there was deprivation. Now, though, was completely different.

“I wonder if I should get some shades to go with?” they mumbled, looking themselves over in the mirror. “I think that would really pull it together, don’t you?”

“Just don’t go for the Ray Bans, it’s a fucking scam.”

Leviathan: "Come on, come on, come on…"

Very rarely was Levi the one watching someone else play games, unless it was a stream. And as mind-blowingly awesome it would be to watch the human stream one of his current faves, he definitely didn't want other people seeing how adorable they looked when they were focused.

They had come to him with absolute determination in their eyes, begging him to help them out. There were a limited amount of UR armor sets in the event, and they needed to get their hands on one. And, well, what kind of friend would he be if he didn't help them out?

(The fact that he already scored the armor is irrelevant.)

So, here they were, camped out in the pillow nest that they often made for themselves when gaming in his room, laser focused on the screen with Levi giving them guidance. The event level was brutal, but they were in the final hours, so it was crunch time.

"Okay, this boss is easy once you know the attack pattern. Four regular slashes, a jab, then you've got about five seconds to get behind a pillar before it uses the AOE."

"Gotcha."

Even then, it was a long battle, and they had used up most of their healing potions by the time the monster let out an anguished roar and disintegrated into a pile of bones. The human held their breath as they moved towards it to gather their loot.

"Yes!!"

They practically leaped out of the pillow nest in triumph. There, right on the top of the loot list in shimmering gold font, and the UR armor that they had been coveting.

"I got it! I got it!" they cheered. "Levi, I finally got it!"

"Hell yeah you did!" the two of them shared a crisp high five as the results of the campaign loaded on the screen. It was updating in real time, so they could watch as the final moments of the event ticked away.

Levi knew what they were looking for. Early on in the dungeon, another player had done them real dirty, sniping them from a few levels above and then taunting them over VC about how they would never get the armor now. So of course that only inspired the human to work harder, and here they were.

3...2...1

Event over. Quickly, the human scrolled up to the beginning of the list, checking the names of all the players who scored the armor.

Levi sat next to them, chewing his lip. What was that person's tag again? He didn't remember.

Suddenly, the human let out a snort that turned into a full-on giggle fit.

"They didn't get it!" they cackled like a hyena. "Serves them right, the jackass!"

Levi was pretty sure it wasn't a good idea to laugh at the misfortune of others. But, he knew better than anyone that spite was a hell of a motivator. When they had first gotten themselves isekai’d into the Devildom, they had let demons walk all over them, Levi had personally witnessed a lower-level demon shove them out of the way to get a sandwich they had been reaching for, and the human just stood there and let them take it. But they had grown to be a little more selfish, and if they wanted something, they were taking it.

And maybe, just maybe, seeing them like that turned him on just a little bit.

Satan: "You want to come and say that to my face?"

Satan stood there in stunned silence as the human spun on their heel to look the demons right in the eyes. They had their back to him, so Satan couldn't see the look on their face, but whatever it was made the two lesser demons flinch.

"Hey, come on, Human, we were just joking."

"Yeah, no need to get all worked up."

They scoffed, and Satan knew them well enough to know that they were rolling their eyes. "Is that right? So you don't think I'm a...what was it? A fleshy meat sack who thinks they can get what they want by sleeping with the strongest demons in the Devildom?"

Another flinch. Satan chuckled to himself.. Did those morons really think they wouldn't hear them? Humans might not have super-heightened senses but they weren't deaf.

A small crowd had begun gathering around them, waiting to see what would happen. It wasn't every day one of the human exchange students squared up to a demon.

"You've got some nerve," the human drew themself up to their full height - which, admittedly, was laughable compared to most demons - and crossed their arms. "What do you think Lord Diavolo would do to demons who messed with his exchange students?"

"I believe there's a special spot in the Royal Torture Chambers for such demons," Satan came to stand next to them, and the other demons downright cowered. "If I recall correctly, there's an Iron Maiden down there."

"Ooh, cool!"

"Alright, we get it!" One of the demons cried, throwing their hands up defensively. "We're sorry!"

Satan opened his mouth to spit a curse at them, but the human beat him to it. "I've got Lord Diavolo on speed dial, so start running."

The two demons turned tail and booked it down the hallway, nearly crashing into Beelzebub as he turned the corner with a sandwich hanging out of his mouth. He stood frozen for a moment before he swallowed and turned to Satan and the human.

"Were those two bothering you guys?"

Satan cast a sideways look at the human before a wicked grin spread across his face.

"They took care of it."

Asmodeus: "Well, someone's feeling bold tonight."

The door had barely shut behind the two of them before the human was pressing Asmo against it, mouthing at his neck as their hands traveled down the front of his silk blouse. He shuddered gleefully as their breath ghosted against his ear lobe.

"I can't help it," they murmured, fingers skirting just beneath the hem of his shirt. "You looked so good out there."

"I look good all the time, darling," he hummed, reaching up to grab a fistful of hair to gently pry them away from his neck.

"You looked especially good," they huffed as he let go of their hair. "Dancing like that, I could barely wait until we got home."

"Aw, sweetheart, you should have come to join me." Asmo rolled his hips in an echo of the dancing he had been doing at the club, delighting when he felt them shiver against him. "We could have put on a show that would have captivated the whole Devildom."

"I don't think the staff would appreciate it."

"They would be too busy watching to care," Asmo giggled, diving down to capture their lips in a quick and dirty kiss. "Although I can't say I'm not thrilled to be getting a private show."

Beelzebub: “Man, this place has the best barbecue!”

Dinner dates were a pretty common thing for the two of them. Over the course of the human’s stay in the Devildom, the two of them had figured out which restaurants would put up with Beel’s appetite and which would visibly freeze when the Avatar of Gluttony entered the establishment. The Hellfire Barbecue was one of the good places, probably because Beel made sure to tip really well, and one time personally went into the kitchen to tip the chef. Or, well, he tried, anyway. He ended up giving the money to the human and told them to give it to the chef because he knew if he went in there he would devour everything. But the sentiment was still there.

Beel smiled down at the human as they wiped the barbecue sauce off of their face. “You finished all of it this time.”

“Huh?” they glanced at their plate. “Oh. Yeah, I guess I did.”

“You usually don’t.”

“I was really hungry, I guess.” they grinned sheepishly.

Beel distinctly remembered the human telling him that they always tried to save some food for later. Whether it was being resourceful or because they had a weird sense of shame around eating too much, Beel didn’t know, but he had never pressed in case it was a sensitive issue. But, seeing them indulge themselves and looking genuinely full and satisfied made him happy. And was probably his main motivation for taking them out to dinner so often.

Well, that and getting his own food.

“I like watching you eat.” Beel said, waving to the owner as he passed by.

“You...like watching me eat.” the human repeated, looking somewhat confused.

“You look so happy when you eat good food,” Beel smiled. “I like seeing you happy.”

Belphegor: Oh, how the tables have tabled.

“Come on, I don’t feel like dealing with Lucifer’s lectures today.” Belphie grumbled, tugging half-heartedly on the human’s arm that was flung around his waist. “We should get up soon.”

For all of his complaining, Belphie didn’t move. If anything, he snuggled down deeper into the bed. He loved when the human agreed to have a sleepover in the attic with him. They got uninterrupted cuddle and nap time, since nobody dared to come up to the attic except Beel. And Beel was almost always welcome to join the cuddle puddle.

“Five more minutes…” the human mumbled sleepily, burying their face into Belphie’s neck. The soft, contented sigh they let out tickled, and he squirmed a little.

“Aren’t you usually the one waking me up?” Belphie nuzzled his nose against their hair.

“But it’s comfy here,” they whined. “I don’t want to get up.”

“You just don’t want to do the presentation in class today.”

“Your point?”

Belphie laughed. “Can’t say I disagree.”

“I did all the hard work anyway,” they shrugged. “We’ll make Mammon give the report.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

The two of them settled back down into the nest of pillows. The human had almost drifted back to sleep when Belphie brought his nose down to theirs to nuzzle them together.

“You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You’re cute when you shut up and let me sleep.”

[fonulyn]

Did you see the new info about the re4 remake?? Apparently the village scene & a "decent portion of the game" take place at night now, it’s scarier & inspired by the RE4 betas, the side characters have bigger roles and Ada's campaign will be expanded. What are your thoughts on these changes I guess you would say??

it's always fair to assume i've never seen any new info because i am really not looking forward to it so i'm not following any news :'D

let's say I have Concerns™ :'D "a decent portion of the game" already takes place either in rain or during the night. it's only the village part in the beginning that's clearly in sunlight. and honestly? I don't think it'll get scarier just by making it a night. i think it'll take away from the creepiness, if anything.

like, for me personally, the creepiest thing and at the same time the most heartbreaking thing about it is thinking they were once just regular human beings. I adore how in the beginning you reach the village square and it's like... regular people going about their everyday lives, feeding their chicken, tending their cows, wait what is that a body they're burning in the middle of the square??? :'D that is what left an impression on me the first time I played. sure you already knew something was up, with the man in the first house and the few ganados who attack you there, but arriving to the village kind of solidified that. if that now happens during the night? idk I don't see how that'd improve it.

(and to add to this: during the ending credits when they show these still images of how the once happy village got taken over by the plagas and everything went straight to hell? that is done so goddamn well, it really underlined what i already felt in the beginning of the game about how it's so heartbreaking that these regular people got their lives ruined and got turned into puppets for some asshole to further their own goals)

of course it depends on how they'll handle the whole "night" thing, if it's actually done well or if it just means everything will be super dark for cheap jumpscares. that remains to be seen, who knows.

I am also concerned though that this means they've tightened the timeframe. like. it's never said outright how long Leon spends on the mission but it's at least one day because when he arrives it's clearly daylight, and when they leave with Ashley in the end it seems like early morning, so they spend the day and the evening and the night there. if it now will already be nighttime when Leon arrives? then it sounds like they shortened it considerably. which.. yeah, no. they already cut off significant portions of re3 when they remade it and i'm scared they'll cut up re4 into an unrecognizable torso of itself.

as for the side characters having bigger roles, idk, I love them? so i'm obviously all for letting them have more time in the limelight. but it depends on how they do it. if it means they get a few more lines and in exchange half of the actual game gets cut off? then it's not a fair trade. if it means they redo the entire plot? oh boy will i hate it :'D so it's really hard to say anything about this because it depends so much on what they'll do, it could be an amazing thing or they could fuck it up entirely. that remains to be seen, too, lol.

as for Ada's campaign, it again depends. if expanding it means that we'll get more info about her and more depth for her character? gimme. but if it means she gets to shoot a few more ganados then eh, not worth it.

so yeah. it's really hard to form any kind of actual opinions when everything we know so far is so vague. it all depends on the actual execution, in the end.

and I'm sorry for being so negative about this but re4 is one of my top fave games in the world and I am legit scared of them possibly butchering it. I know it makes no sense, I know the original still remains, but idek. I still think they should've left re4 alone and remade Code Veronica instead.