#hah 'steel' chair

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Hey, Jealousy

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: NSFW, SMUT HEAVY CHAPTER, MDNI. Canon typical violence mentioned. Note: HELLO ALL! It's been a minute! This fic isn't going anywhere by any means, just had a bit of writer's block and lack of motivation to write for a bite lol. A special thank you to @lethalchiralium for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“This is your target. Memorize it.” John paused as the surveillance photo of their target, a dark-haired woman with almond-shaped eyes, made its way between the trio. He placed a black cell phone in the center of the table while Soap regarded the image. “Freyja, you’re the best pickpocket out of all of us. Your task is to lift her phone and swap it out with the duplicate. Rumor has it there’s a major weapon’s deal rearing up, and I want to know when and where.”

Taking a moment to examine the photo now pinched between her thumb and forefinger, Freyja raised a brow. While she wasn’t one to judge solely based on appearances (a tactic she relied upon herself many times), the woman pictured looked far from an arms dealer. She seemed fairly young. “She has the details?”

Price nodded and partially sat on the table, arms crossed over his chair. “She’s the buyer. Rather unassuming, I know, but our intel is good.”

“Bloody hell,” Ghost mumbled, leaning into her space to sneak a peek. “They just keep gettin’ younger and younger…”

“Ah dinnae mean to be rude, but Ghost’s no’ exactly inconspicuous. A bit hard nae tae notice a giant with headgear at a social event.”

A fair point. Ghost was the tallest member of the team outside of König.

“Which is why you will be partnered with the Captain.” Freyja didn’t miss how her husband’s watchful gaze flickered between her and her co-captain. “You’ll have to couple it up to blend in; a single woman at an event like this would draw suspicion. Ghost will be going undercover as security detail and watch your six.”

“Me? Are ye sure, Captain?”

“Affirmative, Sergeant. I’d rather not have another incident like last time.”

“Last time?” Johnny looked between them. “What happened last time?”

THEN

It should’ve been a simple task, really. A pretty young woman lures a gullible, unsuspecting new hire to a roped-off room with certain expectations, only to be met with the cold steel of a knife to their throat.

As expected, the information burst from the young man’s lips like water through a broken dam, hoping to save his own skin. The quick execution Ghost offered was a mercy compared to what would happen if his boss found out he had snitched.

He could be merciful when he wanted to be.

The Simon she married was not a jealous man. A younger Ghost, at the beginning of their… “situationship”, however…

After the body was stuffed in the room’s closet, hopefully not to be found until at least the next day, he wasted no time hoisting Freyja up against a wall with ease and fucking her senseless. Her legs tightened around his waist immediately, her Venetian mask coming loose at the sudden movement and falling to the floor.

“Yes, right there. Hah, hah, nngh-”

“See what you do to me?” he growled against her cheek, hips snapping against her shaking thighs. “Can’t even get through a fucking mission without my cock gettin’ hard, and you’re over there, actin’ like a slag. Touchin’ that bastard like that-”

“I was just - doing - my job-”

Ghost’s brutal pace stopped and pinned her to the wall. One hand no longer supporting her weight, jumped from her ass to her throat, the bare, calloused skin squeezing the sides. 

“You took it too far. I should leave you high and dry for the show you put on.”

Her fingers scratched at the short hair near the base of his neck, earning a warning sound from the man. Freyja wriggled her hips to find some kind of friction, a release. “Fuck fuck fuck – please, Ghost, don’t stop. Make me come, please–”

“Yeah? Y’want me to make you come?”

“Yes, yes, please! Please, I need to come–”

“Have you learned your lesson?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, so sorry! Fuck me!”

“You’re fuckin’ lucky I’m feelin’ forgiving.”

“Oh shit, thank you, thank you, I’m sorry–”

“You’d better be.”

NOW

The sergeant looked between Price and the couple, studying Price’s lifted brow and Freyja’s pressed lips and flushed skin. Ghost snorted beside her, which got him a sharp jab from his wife’s elbow.

“Bunch o’ rabbits, you two!” he snickered, laughing into his fist. Just how they managed to bone in the field so often, he’d never know. “It’s a miracle ye don’t have a thousand wee bairns by now.”

“Could’ve had them discharged for the mess I had to listen to.” 

“We said we’re sorry!”

“No, you said you were sorry. I won’t apologize if I don’t mean it.”

“I’m going to kill you–”

John cut them off, standing again and collecting his paperwork. “The target rarely comes out of hiding, so we can’t risk spooking her. Freyja, Soap, you’d better sell it.”

“Oh, I’ll make it believable, a’right.”

“And if somehow you find a way around this arrangement – please, for the love of God, no shagging on the job,” Price stressed, pointing at each of them for emphasis. “Got it?”

Johnny raised his hand.  “Ah would just like tae point out that, for once, I’m the good egg here,” he pointed out with a wide grin.

Multiple sets of eyes rolled. “Right then. Dapper up. I’ll see you all tonight.”

Ecstatic about their upcoming mission, the Scot jumped up from his seat, still beaming. He was already bubbling with ideas for their strategy, the backstory of the characters they would play, what he was going to wear–

“Johnny.”

“Sir?”

Ghost leaned forward, elbows planted on his knees as he looked up at the man. “Remember what I said about flirtin’ with my wife?”

“Aye.”

“Still in effect.”

.

.

.

Soap made it his mission to be as handsy as humanly possible the moment they stepped out of their vehicle. Ever the gentleman, he stuck behind Freyja when taking the steps up the grandiose front stairs into the venue; once at the top, his hand slipped across her lower back from one hip to the next.

Both operators kept their attire simple yet appropriate for the dress code. They complimented each other nicely; Johnny sported a simple black suit and a white collared shirt with the top two buttons undone, while Freyja donned a rich, dark purple, satin gown with an open back dipping to her tailbone. They were meant to fit in, not draw attention to themselves.

When they entered the ballroom, crystal chandeliers twinkling above, she glanced around the perimeter at the masked guards. Only taking in their stature for a second before moving on to the next, attempting to locate their backup –

There.

Ghost blended in seamlessly, dressed exactly like the other guards stationed around the room. All black ensemble, black combat boots, and a balaclava with a window for the eyes. They met briefly with Frey’s before she shifted her gaze up to her date, placing one hand on top of his at her side, the other between his shoulder blades.

All night, Ghost’s stare could have burned a hole through her skin straight down to her soul as her partner positively manhandled her. Nothing was safe. Her ass, hips, bare shoulders, and stomach were frequently groped, pinched, and caressed; you name it, Sergeant MacTavish did it. He came up from behind with a champagne flute for her, pressing against her as his hands snaked around to cradle her belly. Kissing obviously wasn’t off the table, his warm lips frequently finding hers; he had enough decency to keep that portion of the night brief.

Finally, after an hour and a half of loving it up with her husband’s best friend, Johnny turned Freyja into a pillar, forcing her to squeak in surprise. Gentle kisses pecked from her collar up to her ear, using his body as a shield.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” she whispered, keeping up the appearance of a drunk, handsy couple by carding her fingers through the back of his mohawk.

He chuckled against her hair. “That’s the idea, Hen. Figure one o’ us should get a good fuck outta tonight.” Frey rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to shove him. “Eyes on the target. She’s had a chance tae get settled. Move in on yer mark.”

She followed his guidance, subtle pressure at the base of her skull pointing her in the direction of their target. Thankfully, a small purse dangled by the woman’s pelvis on a long chain, ripe for the picking. If all went according to plan, Soap would walk them into each other, allowing her to switch the dummy in his pocket with the real thing.

Freyja initiated their objective by stepping in that direction but allowed her companion to take the lead. Clinging to his bicep and stumbling slightly, she whined, “You are in so much trouble when we get home!”

“Aw, c’mon Bonnie! Ah just cannae help myself!” he purred, bending to nibble her ear and give her a reason to jerk away.

“Hey, stop that!” As she lunged to the left, she fell out of the Sergeant’s grasp and into the young woman, grabbing her to keep upright. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“What the fuck!” She wheeled on them, eyes wide at the sudden intrusion into her conversation. “Watch where you’re going!”

Freyja huffed angrily in Johnny’s direction, straightening herself and her dress. “I am so sorry about him. You know how men can be. Always impatient.”

“Unfortunately,” the woman mumbled, nose turned up in disgust. If Freyja could rely on anything, she could always lean on most women’s mutual distaste for men. While it always felt distasteful to manipulate while undercover, it got the job done.

With a soft huff, Freyja grabbed Soap’s hand again and departed with a soft wave, tugging him toward their exit point. Ghost was nowhere in sight.

According to plan, the Brit had dipped into the women’s bathroom when he was sure the lift was successful, and they would eventually follow. Going into the bathroom after two people clearly looking for a space to hook up would look suspicious. The real trick was leaving enough time between their entrances that nobody would notice, without waiting too long for the other guards to notice Ghost’s absence.

She used her best high-pitched, giggling squeal and ditzy movements, swatting at the wandering hands pawing at the shiny, smooth material of her outfit. It had been at least two minutes since Ghost had disappeared, and she decided that was enough leeway for them to follow without raising any alarms. But just as her palm pressed against the cool doorknob, her ally stopped behind her.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Freyja felt the abdominal muscles under Soap’s shirt tense; otherwise, his composure remained unchanged. “Sorry?” he asked with a laugh, keeping his body turned toward her. She refrained from ripping the stranger’s hand off Johnny’s shoulder and ripping back his ring finger–

The man smiled, perfect white teeth nearly sparkling in the light. “Ye owe meh a drink! C’mon, one more shot fur a fellow Scotsman?”

“Shite! Ah completely forgot!” Johnny hovered over her still and bent to run his nose along the shell of her ear. “Ah’ll be right behind ye. Just give me a fiver to finish my drink, aye?”

“Sure thing.” Freyja hung her hands on the lapels of his jacket, anchoring him in place to stretch and purr in his ear, “Don’t take too long.”

She was so fucking dead when they got home. Likely won’t walk right for days.

Barely halfway through the door, a firm grip pulled her into the room, slammed the door shut with her body, then wrapped around her throat. Her heels brought her just a bit closer to her husband’s height, brown eyes practically set ablaze. Ghost had abandoned his jacket and rolled the sleeves of his button-down, exposing the black ink on one forearm.

I should put in for a day or two off.

“Did you not learn your lesson last time?” Ghost asked, low-pitched and gravelly as if he had been restraining himself for hours. He probably had been. “Must’ve been too generous. Let’s try this again.” A man on a mission, he swiftly twisted the lock on the handle and hauled her with him several steps away from the door before forcing Freyja to her knees. His touch moved to cup her jaw.

“Broke my fucking finger watching him touch you, touch what’s mine. This mouth-” His digits snatched her cheeks, making her painted lips purse with a soft whimper. “-is mine. Your cunt is mine. Your body is mine – facts you’ve apparently forgotten. Let me remind you.”

Freyja gulped helplessly when his other hand slid the leather strap of his belt out of the buckle, then looked up at him through her mascara-coated lashes.

“Soap-“

“I. Don’t. Care. Do it.”

Her cheeks were enflamed under her blush, but she still raised a brow at him. Again, Simon wasn’t known to be a jealous man; they were very secure in their relationship, trusting each other completely. Plus, Johnny was in a committed, loving relationship, after all. But still, watching his best friend all over her, purposefully egging him on and pushing boundaries…

Anyone would lose their patience.

Her nails, painted to match her color scheme for the evening, worked at undoing his slacks and dropping them and his underwear down enough to free his already hard member. Slacks which, by the way, were fitted perfectly to hug his ungodly figure. Saliva pooled in her mouth at the sight, her hole already clenching around nothing. 

As if he had read her mind, Ghost seized the back of her head and snarled, “I’m beginning to lose my patience, love.”

Suddenly he was buried down her throat, to the hilt. Tears sprang to her eyes; she moved to dig into his thighs for purchase, which earned her additional pressure at the back of her head. “No touching.”

All Freyja could do was blink up at him and hold her hands behind her back, hoping he understood the message. Thankfully, he let up and slowly drew out before easing back in, fucking her throat with soft moans and the occasional curse. Ghost groaned at the sight of his precum and her spit gathering in his blond curlies, her dark lipstick smudging on his cock, tear streaks running lines in her makeup…

She flattened her tongue, bobbing her head with a steady rhythm while breathing through her nose and intermittently taking him until her nose was enshrouded in coarse hair. Even if she wasn’t getting off, and Ghost’s pretty face was hidden by his mask, the expressions in his eyes as she edged him toward his release were almost as satisfying.

“Fuck, you like that?” he questioned, hoarse and needy. “Almost like you were – hngh, shit – hoping I’d p-punish you.”

Even submissive, vulnerable on her knees before him and choking on his cock, Freyja still made him stutter and whimper. How many hours had he spent uncomfortably hard, keeping his dutiful post as their backup? Observing the near obscene show Soap had put on?

Ghost leaned his torso forward, supporting his weight against the wall with his free hand. He didn’t have to tell her he was close; even with his controlled breathing, his eyes threatening to flutter shut was a dead giveaway. Still, the head of his cock popped out of her mouth, garnering her attention again.

“How much of me can you take?”

“All of it.”

“Bloody hell…” He presented himself again, the hooded tip resting against her lips. “Lick.”

She immediately ducked under him and laid her tongue against the vein on the underside of his dick, applying soft, slow pressure to the tip again before taking him back in her mouth. Freyja picked up the speed and hummed around him, pushing (or rather, pulling) him closer and closer…

“Fucking shit – take it, take it, take it–”

His warm cum spilled down her throat, but she continued slowly guiding Ghost through his orgasm as he pulsated and huffed quietly above her. Freyja basked in the way he flinched, eyes closed as her touch bordered on overstimulating and torturous.

Satisfied and out of breath, Ghost jerked his hips away to avoid any more of her touch and offered his wife his hands. She immediately took them and was pulled to her feet effortlessly with a moment to find her balance. When he was finished tucking himself back into his trousers and fastening his belt again, Ghost slid the delicate strap of her dress that had slipped off her shoulder back into place, his gentle touch dragging across her skin.

Freyja was about to speak when the door rattled, someone trying to open it before they both heard a familiar accent on the other side. “Bonnie? ‘S me, open up.”

She gestured for him to stand out of sight for a moment while she unlocked the door and opened it just enough to let Soap in, careful not to expose her current state to others who may be watching from the party. When it was closed and secured again, Johnny took in their appearances; Freyja, clearly dazed with her hair tousled and makeup smudged, and Ghost, with his fly down, shirt untucked, and blazer tossed carelessly onto the sink.

Then, with the absolute, most shit-eating grin, said, “Ye’r welcome, Hen.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[just-pug-things]

Answering a Patreon mailbag question.

Hah! You thought it would be Digital Devil Saga! But it's Metaphor Re:Fantazio with the steel chair! Sure, I may have DDS brainrot but I'm also having a great time playing Metaphor!

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

Headcanon - Overlords Attacked / Magical Virus?

Oh, this one would be so fun.

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

 Attack on the Overlords - Magical Virus

Brazen and unexpected, but immediately dismissed as silliness. 

(Striker involved? Because his plan was always to kill overlords)

----

They are at a meeting, something unusual to experience more than once a year usually post-extermination to discuss new territories and boundaries. The meeting is being held in a neutral location this time, given the recent information around angelic steel and the sheer fact Carmilla happens to have 90% of it in all the area. 

The building is well-warded, and technically contains a pocket dimension fuelled by all of the Overlords’ powers that they were meeting in. It was a fun little measure to ensure no one could lock everyone else away if all of them had control to some extent. The flashing whorl of different magic about the walls could get nauseating if you looked too closely, however. 

Perhaps that was where things started to go wrong. 

There was some level of tension, naturally, as always at these meetings… but at the same time a sickly tendril of complacency arose about the ankles of each and every overlord present. They had Won. They were in a place of their own making. They were Safe. Well, as safe as one can be in hell… but still, they were not as alert as they should be.

All the Vees had come this time, an interesting development. However, it was clear that they were simply making a point of force, and having a go at the Radio Demon.

“I can’t believe you’d even bo00000the333r to show up after being such a fucking coward!” Vox goads, grinning maniacally, claws digging into the table as he leered across at his rival. “Heard your freaky little maid actually took Adam out, bet that stings just as bad as your humiliating defeat you old timey FUCK!”

“Hmmm, yes I am quite proud of Niffty and her achievements. There never was a stain she couldn’t get out, and by golly was Adam a stain on all of humanity in life and death! Hahahhaa!” Alastor parries, Rosie joining in the laughter. 

“Stop deflecting you fucker, and face the fact that you ran away like the little bitch you are!” 

Alastor grinned, “Perhaps… but I could not help but note your absence on the field of play, picture box, except perhaps for your voyeuristic eyes swarming about. You accuse me of hiding in the shadows, and yet… that feels more apt for you and your cronies, does it not?”

“Voxxy, tell him how excited we got when you saw Adam penetrate him… hmmm?” 

Alastor fought to stop his ears from flattening. “Mmm, not the terminology I would use, my dear insectoid colleague, but I do understand the parlance of your profession would be hard to slip out of in more civilised surroundings.”

“Hah, hard. Like Vox when he thought you died…” Valentino snorted, and Velvette rolled her eyes before giving a half-hearted high five to the moth. 

“I do not know how you put up with their insufferable hijinks, Miss Velvette…” Alastor commiserates. 

“Trust me, sometimes I fuckin’ don’t either. But they’re good in bed, so for now it is what it is, innit?” 

“VEL!” / “Babydoll!”

Rosie’s hollow eyes glance between the trio, finally confirming something that was SURE to make the high tea at her emporium tomorrow quite aflutter with gossip.

Zeezi make the room shudder as she traipsed in, with Carmilla and Zestial close on her heels. Odette and Clara trailed their mother, clearly armed and trying hard not to look in any way on edge about not having full control of the layout.

“Greeting Sovereign Overlords of Hell and thank you for meeting again so soon after our last meeting. I see that we have not lost anyone in the previous Extermination, nor are there any new faces to bring up to speed, so we may get onto pressing business.”

“Oi, why’re you the one who gets to chair these meetings, pointy-shoes? Let someone else take a turn once in a while…” Velvette complains reflexively, her main intention being on trying to find the right angle to get proper signal for her phone in this liminal space.

Carmilla, with the patience of someone who has already raised two daughters, responded with a calm smile. “Overlord Velvette, would like to submit a request for a rotating roster for chairing of the meetings? It can easily be arranged. However, we will need assurances that all the requested parties will attend… which I understand is not always possible, given the chaotic nature of your joint industries.”

“Pfft, nah. I’m just sayin’, maybe you don’t need to be so uptight and in control all the time.”

Odette and Clara visibly stiffen, glaring daggers at Velvette. Carmilla’s expression remains oddly serene, as does that of Zestial as he seats himself beside her. 

“Your concern for my wellbeing is admirable, and I thank you. So, how about we move onto the pressing matters that have brought us all to the table today.”

She ignores the outraged spluttering of the outmanoeuvred Velvette.

Carmilla knows if she pushed it even a fraction more, the younger woman might accidentally call her ‘Mum’ in her next retort, that specific wheedling whine was so… familiar. Her eyes cut across to the trying-not-to-look-at-her flushed expressions of her own daughters, who were clearly flashing back to teen tantrums of their own. 

“Today we meet to discuss the new direction of Hell. That is to say, given that the Exorcist Army was so successfully repelled last week and the countdown has not yet resumed, there is a large question around what the future will look like in relation to our ongoing antagonistic relationship with Heaven. Overlord Alastor or Overlord Rosie, would either of you have any new information to share?”

“Thank you darling, I must say things went off quite splendidly!” Rosie chimes in, hands expressively accompanying her words. “My cannibals and cannibettes had just the most delightful time devouring the angels that those lovely people at the hotel downed for us, and we have such a surplus of divine meat it’ll last for decades in the freezers.

That reminds me, if anyone has time to fit in a little feasting, we’re hosting a banquet in my little town next week for everyone to show off their culinary experiments with the angelic flesh. Oh, it’ll be delicious!” 

There was a pause. “And don’t you worry, if that’s not your thing we will also have a few chimkin and vegetarian options. Promise!”

“Dear Charlotte has advised she intends to attend, Rosie, with the lovely Vagatha and the other hotel members.” Alastor advised, grinning at her in a genuine manner that sparkled in his eyes.

It could also, it must be said, have a little something to do with the horror in Vaggie and Lucifer’s faces when they’d been invited to a feast wherein Angel Wings were on the menu… which he had mentally filed away for later perusal and enjoyment.

“How… magnanimous of you. I am certain that there may be a few minutes in my schedule somewhere to attend, thank you for your gracious invitation.” 

“Here, here.” Alastor agrees. His fingers tap the table in an odd little rhythm that catches Vox’s attention. “Well, in terms of an update I would heartily agree that Heaven has realised they are not so invulnerable as previously thought… and that has left them quite paralysed in shock. Both the Princess and King have attempted to reach out to Heaven individually, and received limited answers; polite platitudes if you will. It appears those above no longer wish to draw ire or attention to themselves under the circumstances… hahahahahaaa!” 

“Most assuredly, the Heavenly hosts were most severely rebuffed upon their entry to our realm. Victorious, our reigns remain.” Zestial enthuses.

“Okay, but now what?” Velvette jumps in, watching Vox’s eye twitching as he seems to be decoding something. Valentino exhales a stream of heart-shaped smoke and pets her arm soothingly. “I mean, let’s face facts… those fuckers have been getting away with this for ages and one lost battle ain’t just gonna be enough for ‘em to call it quits, yeah? What d’you think they’re planning?”

“An excellent question, my fashion-forward friend! Just imagine the fear the angels feel now that their avenue of annual entertainment has been annihilated, it only raises the stakes. Why, I suspect more than a few of the heavenly court our dear Princess faced off against are practically moulting themselves over the idea that sinner ranks may once more swell to the populace last seen when the last proactive royal attempted to counter them.” Alastor interjects, grin becoming sharper as the shadows deepened.

“Which is precisely why we need to plan for the potential responses we shall receive from above. Even if no one takes the opportunity to rebel as Queen Lillith once did, it will likely be a thought closely bound to the minds of those ruling Heaven… we must prepare on the off-chance that there is a more... punitive response.” Carmilla advised.

“Hmm, well I would absolutely agree with that, Overlord Carmilla!” Vox slid his way into the conversation, all schmooze and practised business speak. “As we’ve previously mentioned, VoxTech is working on a new brand of Angelic Security options for you and your family, however I’m thinking that this little venture may go a little faster and smoother if our industries were to collaborate to get these products out and about before Heaven gets it in their stuck up little heads to-... YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”

Vox’s tone fritzes as he hurls a bolt of lightning across the table at Alastor, whose fingertips stilled against the table. The other leans to the side and avoids catching electricity to the face, expression delighted. 

“Why my dear Picturebox, whatever could you be referring to?” 

“Oh you FUCKE-...YOU KNOW WHAT YOU SAID!”

“Wha-... oh for fuck’s sake, Vox, let it go already. Ain’t like you two never said that shit to one another before when fighting…”

“W-...wait, you know morse code, Vel?”

“Course I bloody do. It’s the basis for a lot of coding, and you know how good I am at that little techno language… hmmm?” There was a concerningly sexual lilt to that statement that made the TV’s screen flare for a second. “And you, you grinning anachronism, stop goading my idiot ‘cause I’m the one who has to deal with him after you two do that whole… flirty fighting nonsense.” She waved a flippant hand as static screeched in response.

Rosie was laughing at the absolute disgust Alastor was expressing.

“Oh deer… she’s got your number, haha!” 

Valentino grinned salaciously over the table at the Radio Demon, and some of that noxiously vivid smoke dared trail over to touch him. Alastor’s shade loomed up from behind the moth’s chair, fingers out to-...

“ENOUGH!” Carmilla called, snapping the meeting back to order.

“Aww, it was just getting good…” Zeezi muttered to the overlord to her left, some guy with a flaming blue skull and a name no one could recall. “Spoilsport.”

“Yes yes, indeed. Let us set aside such PETTY differences… and focus. If possible.”

“Big talk from the person who shut down the last meeting when dolly over there got a bit up in your business…” Zeezi prods, needling at the other.

Carmilla sighed. “That is quite true, unfortunately. My conduct was not appropriate… however, in the efforts to better manage these meetings, I ask that personal grudges and any… flirting… take place outside these walls.” 

“So, what’re we going to do, then?” Valentino asks, bored of the whole thing and already tapping away at some sort of game on a Vpad produced from who knows where in that gaudy coat. The sound was a little high and the continued high pitched trilling pop of whatever he was doing was irritating more than a few present. 

Alastor reached out to the airwaves and turned the volume down, shuddering at the sensation of dealing with the technology, but his ears stopped stinging all the same, so it was worth it.

“Why, teach your thralls to fight properly and bargain with the lethally lovely Overlord Carmilla for support to arm them, of course! We’ll give those angels what-for when they get back here!”

“And that’s where our Angelic Security products come into it!” Vox jumps back into the conversation. “Yes, we can meet individually with you or as a group at a later date to discuss options for each and every one of your territories, down to the last thrall’s residence. Let’s get everyone ready to face off against the threat, and make sure those feathered FUCKS have nowhere to hide when they inevitably bustle back down here.” 

More than a few of the other Overlords were nodding in interest, including Rosie, much to Alastor’s horror. To think of even greater surveillance across the entire ring was… horrifying, he felt his gorge rise… but what could he say to counter such an offer? 

He makes a show of rolling his eyes, but remains silent. 

“An intriguing proposal… I will also find time for a consultation with VoxTech Industries. Now, I open the floor to a discussion around any of the currently contested territories, disputes and if there are any up and coming potential overlords that we should be aware of.” 

“Yeah, I got a question for Zesty up there about some of his people setting up in one of my warehouses… I don’t like the looks of the light shows going on at night. You know if what they’re doing is any kind of danger to my people? Cause I don’t want that on my turf.” Zeezi asks, glancing down the table at the other.

“Many apologies, mine thralls have sourced your spacious building to complete alchemical experimentation of a most vexing nature. Nothing that should light the skies nor cause the flames of hell to writhe, thou hast mine assurances.”

“So it’s like… drugs? Or glowsticks or something?”

“More akin to potives for various purposes, health tonics and their opposite numbers. Hmmm, I hath made cert that all endeavours pose no risk to thine enterprise, peoples or the waters therein.”

“Ah, ‘kay… could’ve been more fun if it was drugs, just saying. Either way, we can negotiate some of that shit from you later, right? My guys’re rough and tumble, and they get too into it sometimes, so it might be helpful to have something vaguely medicinal around.”

“Verily, those in this room hath mine ear first and foremost for such wares.”

“Nice to know.”

“Would your people be open to assisting in production of Love Potion?” Valentino asked, missing entirely the flicker of distaste on the ancient overlord’s face. 

“Hmmm, such an endeavour wouldt not be within mine realms, as such a potive is intrinsic to thine enterprise, is it not?”

“Hmm, yeah I guess so.” Val shrugs multiple sets of shoulders. He’d lost interest after he got a general ‘no’ vibe from the elderly overlord. “Well, is that it? I got several people to do today…”

“Well, if there is no further business, I suppose that we can conclude this meeting. Overlord Rosie, my daughters and I look forwards to attending your event next week, and I would hope to see-...” Carmilla’s words cut off with a choked cry as chaos erupted throughout the room.

Rippling cracks filled the room simultaneously, as bullets flew in perfect precision to strike each and every Overlord through the skull with pinpoint accuracy. Some struck from the side, others from behind… and several through the forehead. Even Vox was not spared, his screen fracturing from impact as it rippled outwards from between his eyes.

Bodies slumped to the tabletop or out of their chairs depending on the directional force they received from the attack. Blood of varying colours coated the walls, the table, one another.

Odette and Clara screamed as their mother fell back into their arms, and they covered her with their bodies, weapons to hand as they prepared for a further assault that seemed imminent. And yet, never came.

As silently as it had begun, everything ceased, the only sound the harsh panting of the two warriors and the steady dripping of blood and gore off various surfaces. The room buckled slightly, wards shorting out due to the sudden loss of power fuelling them.

None noticed the tiny flares above of coin-sized portals closing amongst the whirling multitudes of magics present; the perfectly camouflaged vantage points for would-be assassins.

“What… what do we do?” Odette hisses at her sister.

“I don’t-... we need help, someone who won’t take advantage of this.” Of our mother. Of Zestial and the others. 

The children of Overlords were few and far between, but they knew that their ties protected and bound them to the others present as strongly as those same connections dissuaded harm.

Why, more than once another Overlord had casually stepped in to divert potential kidnappers from taking them in the early days… and made no real mention of it to their mother. It was simply… an unspoken little courtesy extended to them due to who they were.

In fact, the only one who probably understood that feeling was likely-...

Odette gasped, “The Princess!” 

Clara already had her phone out, shaking fingers encouraging a seldom-used number to ring…

“Please pick up, please pick up!”

Ch2 - etc

In hindsight, perhaps an activity involving so much glue, glitter and other confetti-like substances was not the most appropriate option given the current hotel staff and clientele.

Husk had it matted in his fur at this point and Niffty was driving everyone ballistic with her frequent attempts to clean up excess before it even reached the paper.

Angel had, unfortunately, decided the exercise was ridiculous and crafted a very detailed but wildly inappropriate veritable bouquet of demon dongs on his paper.

“Uh, Angel… I love the hmmm, the enthusiasm… however, we were supposed to be making art of things we…” Love. Ah, the flaw in that little statement just hit her. She laughed nervously, “Actually, that’s fine! I’m er, glad to see it’s just… that… and you didn’t draw any of the substances you normally talk about all the time. So that’s some progress!”

“Nah princess, I’m just not great at art or you woulda seen me draw a real detailed version of Whiskers, probably with a line or two to snort off’a his pert-...” 

“WELL NOW THIS LOOKS FUN, what’s happening in here?!” Lucifer’s voice rings out, cutting off the truly heinous sentence he just walked in on before his daughter turned any deeper red. She really needed to get better at shutting down sinners when they got vulgar but… that was a skill that came with time.

“Just a little exercise in creativity, we’re drawing what we love! Or, uh, trying to… Niffty, please stop eating that, it’s glue.” 

“Oh for the love of-...” Vaggie was there trying to wrangle it out of the hands of the smaller demoness. It was quite comical to see someone trying to avoid those sharp teeth and simultaneously remove the heaped handfuls of glitter-caked glue from the same mouth all at once. “Bad Niffty, you’ll get a stomach ache! Uh, what…er, what if you get too unwell to deal with the bugs? Then they’ll win, right?”

The little maid paused, arms and legs dangling as if all her energy had gone inward to thinking that over.

“Is that-... is she okay? Is this normal?” Lucifer found himself asking, perturbed by the blank stare. 

“Yeah. Give her a minute.” Husk adds, glancing over dismissively. 

Well, if anyone would know if something was wrong, it’d be the guy who worked alongside her for decades. 

“Okay!” the little thing brightened, dropping the glue to the floor and wriggling free to run off. However, she paused mid-turn and shuddered.

In a split second, three chains lit up the room without any prior warning and flickered. 

“What the FUCK, what the FUCK is happening?” Angel gasps, starting to breathe heavily. This wasn’t Val being a dick and calling him in, the other end of the chain was fading towards him right this second… disappearing. A tug was there, but it didn’t want his physical body, it wanted his essence.

“No! Sir!” Niffty cried, slouching to the floor as her energy was siphoned towards the rapidly disintegrating end of the chain. 

“What’s happening?” Charlie cried, eyes wide and hands twitching, unsure who to help first as Husk slumped forwards onto the crafting table, body twitching with the strain. 

And then her phone goes off.

A connection she didn't use often, but there’s a frantic daughter of an overlord on the phone who needs her Right Now, even if the exact nature of the issue isn’t easy to obtain due to the frantic sobs and heaving breaths on the other end.

“Stay calm, can you tell me where you are? Okay. Okay. We’ll be right there, it’s going to be okay.” she snaps the phone shut. “Dad! Someone attacked the Overlord meeting and they’re all dead!”

“WHAT?!”

“Please, can you portal us to the (make up location)? I need to-... Carmilla’s daughters are there alone in a room full of-... and Rosie and Al were there! Oh no!”

“Breathe, duckling, breathe. We can go. But what about your friends here?”

“We’re coming with you, just give me a sec…” Husk said gravely, head still on the table and one claw raised. “Fuck, this hasn’t happened in… years… got used to not being used as a fuckin’ battery. Alright, let’s do this.”

Angel shoved himself upright through will alone and stumbled towards the others. “If he’s dead-dead, I reserve the right to desecrate the corpse and no one gets to make a fuss about it. Capisce?”

“Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiir…” Niffty mewls, crawling up Vaggie’s leg to cling to her like a koala. 

“Alright, let’s go!” Lucifer snaps open a portal right through those cute little wards the overlords set up. Hey, he’s the King for a reason. 

Its a scene of devastation and carnage.

They’re dead. ALL Dead. 

Charlie runs over to Rosie and Alastor first, the former seems to have been caught through the side of the skull and the latter… well, unfortunately, it seems to have gone straight through the forehead. Hmmm, that might be a little triggering later on, she’d have to work on discussing that with-... oh, yeah. Fuck.

Neither showed any signs of life or afterlife or vitality or however they classed it here.

Clara and Odette were sobbing at the head of the table, each curled protectively around Carmilla or Zestial. 

Lucifer asks what happened. They have no answers, one minute it was fine and the next...

He uses his magic to fill the room to sense what went down, sees the portals. Tastes magic that is laced with Heavenly power but is native to hell somehow. Possibly from the use of blessing tipped weapons.

“Can you… heal them?”

“Duckling… they’re dead, but they’re not... fully gone, or your friends would be free right now, right?” Still the fact anyone got bold enough to kill or try to kill a dozen overlords at once was… concerning.

“Oh, so can we give them a uh, a little boost to help them wake up?”

“You can but… do you really want to waste it on these guys? They’ll regenerate soon enough.”

Charlie frowns at him, and gently provides some power to Rosie and Alastor, and when they begin to breathe again (even if morbidly slowly), she moves on. Moving to Carmilla and Zestial, to Zeezi, that weird skull guy, and then the Vees… she hesitates over Valentino, though.

“Oh no, I’m so… exhausted… I just can’t without rest…” she mumbles, making a show of swooning into Vaggie’s amused arms.

With a hiss, Alastor sits upright, the back of his head half-healed into its regular shape but the unsightly bullet hole in his forehead was leaking blood obscenely. However, he noted the awakening Rosie and immediately offered her his kerchief to manage the matted blood in her hair.

She handed her own back across and they laughed, swiping at the blood. They handed them back sticky with crimson gore.

“Deerling would you be offended if I made tea with the kerchief? Just for me of course.”

“Of course! I’d hate for it to go to waste!” 

Carmilla and Zest awaken, immediately pretending not to be worried for the other as if they weren't the worst kept secret in Hell, and then turned their attentions to Calra and Odette, who were BESIDE themselves with grief and joy.

The others Waking up, unsure why they hadn't been sent through a proper reset / reformation because a headshot would do that.

What happened? Who would DARE? Who could even do this? Most Goetia couldn't bust down a doorway held back with the power of multiple overlords. It was a matter of amassed might.

Odd. Unsettling in a way that made the King uncomfortable, as if he'd missed something. He plucks several of the bullets from the walls, floor and even tabletop where they'd been ejected post-regeneration.

They don't... smell of heaven, not directly. Which was good, because if they had even a trace of angelic steel in them, none of these sinners would be here right now.

So then, what was the point of it? To target an entire room, warded strongly enough to dissuade most under royal goetia level, of the top tier of sinners... only to use that one shot (so to speak) on a non-lethal delivery.

He wants to think its someone new to hell, someone who didn't realise nothing short of an angelic bullet would kill a sinner, an overlord. But that doesn't add up. New sinners wouldn't have the ability, the connections to do this, and older / experienced sinners would never take this risk unless they thought it was guaranteed.

So what was this all for?

He feels the answer tickling the edge of his infinite mind, clouded with years of roiling depression, trying to connect the dots for him. However, right now...? He was feeling twitchy about his daughter being anywhere near this place, wondering if these was an ambush likely.

Out of courtesy to the overlords he did recall and liked, he offered them portals home. The Vees declined, curling into Vox as he turned them to electricity and jumped into the outside powerlines.

Rosie stepped straight through a portal into the frantically yelling arms of Susan, who was berating her for needing to use her energy, all the while hugging Rosie with a desperate relief neither woman would ever be able to mention. The frightening woman pointed her walking stick through the portal menacingly at Alastor as well, stating she was glad to see his rudolph looking ass hadn't been annihilated either but how dare the pair of them worry cannibal town like that?!

Alastor was too stunned to retort before the portal closed. "...I believe that's the first time dear Susan hasn't threatened to skin me for a decorative rug... and then complained about how it would be oddly proportioned." he murmurs, blinking, and then has to deal with Niffty gluing herself to him and holding tight.

Lucifer immediately drags everyone back to the hotel, and throws up additional wards despite Alastor's protests that his were more than sufficient.

A touch cruelly, Lucifer retorts that clearly they weren't or he wouldn't have been shot in the head a second time, hmmm? And Charlie had to intervene to prevent the dad-off part 2 from starting all over again when they were both keyed up and anxious for different reasons.

She then made things worse by asking if Al wanted to talk about it? Because she knew it might have triggered thoughts of his death and-...

The overlord had JUST enough patience not to snap at her as the smile went taut. "My dear, do keep your new age nonsense to yourself, it's hardly the first time someone down here has tried that, I have a glowing X on my forehead... they do tend to aim for it..."

"Yes but, you were-... and ROSIE was-... if you want to talk about it, I'm here." She grasps his hands, and he looked like he wanted to recoil from the intensity of her care and compassion, which was bordering on the manic side at this point.

"No, as I said it's fine. And besides, it's hardly like the real thing... there were no dogs this time!" His laughter echoes as he fades into shadow, leaving Charlie perplexed and looking to Husk for an answer.

He chugs an entire bottle. "No, absolutely not, he'd kill me if I told you... just don't go bringing hellhounds here unexpectedly, he tends to not respond well. Last one ended up with limbs torn off... but Rosie sewed 'em back on and they got the guy sorted out."

"That's horrible!"

"Eh, death trauma gets us all a little weird, toots..." Angel intones, draped over the lounge seating like it was a risque photoshoot. "I still can't stand being in a dingy bathrooms with faint mint tiles and flickering bulbs. Sends me right into my own head..."

"Oh... is there... anything you need us to change about your room?" She's frantically thinking about what colour scheme his bathroom has, it had been a generic room to begin with before he went pinksplosion on the place.

"Nah, I'm good. There were some green tiles in there, forest green I think it was, but I asked Al to switch it to pink months ago... he made it pink and black, but said if it was all pink id never be able to work out distance from anything if i was hungover. Fucker was right."

Lucifer frowned, "And what little deal did that cost?"

Angel blinked. "Well, I offered to give him the daily special, four hands no questions asked, and he gave me this whack on the head with his microphone thing and laughed. Told me to save it for someone who cared for that sort of thing. Eh, his loss. But he did it cause that's what the facility manager does, right?"

"Hmmm, I really should have thought about what environment could do for our guests and their trauma. Hmmm, good feedback, Angel." she's working herself into a strategising mode.

Vaggie intercedes immediately. "No, no you don't, we're going to get a cup of tea and calm down and then talk about how you're really feeling about all this... bottling it up will just hurt you in the long run. You haven't... seen sinners die and reform like that, the ones you kind of care about, before have you?"

"...no." the voice is smaller.

And suddenly Angel has her and Vaggie off the ground in a deep hug. "Hey, s'okay toots... catches us all off guard. Last time Cherri got killed, I went on a week long bender until she reformed, I didn't know what to do without her, 'cause we did everything together. It's fucked up, but that's how it is..."

"And you're trying to change it, give another option, sweetie. We believe in you, and your dream." Vaggie reminds.

---

Lucifer provides a shot of vitality to the thralls who'd been drained automatically. Feeling they were the real victims here. He wouldn't be able to chase down all the affected, but Husk and Angel and Niffty were in reach.

---

Vox will keep it out of the news to prevent copycats. Vulnerability was the wost thing an overlord could have. There's no way to play at it that every other overlord got hit but not the Vees... too many questions would be raised.

Overlords make a show of being seen in public, brazenly unafraid and seemingly unbothered by the incident.

[Pick a villain for this shitshow. Angelic in nature, orchestrated from someone high in the council, someone who was in the courtroom with Charlie and Emily singing. Not Sera, perhaps one of the as yet unnamed angels, like Uriel or Castiel... for the hell of it.]

Plot Twist: Turns out the bullets were simply a medium to deliver a very specific spell/curse to each overlord. On the inner core of the bullets, something Lucifer notices too late because he got distracted with Charlie and the hotel and ducks and the Sins saw him on TV and wanted to check in and- and- and-... Well, he missed it. With his true Sight, his devil's eyes, it would have been clear as daylight, but... he'd been too focused on trying to work out why the sigil on the base of the bullet was familiar.

Ironically, the sigil was put there because the person who had ordained it all KNEW that Lucifer was easily distracted, and if he had bothered to look into it at all, as he likely would because of Charlotte's connection to the hotel and overlord associated... then that was the most surefire way to divert the angelic adhd nightmare from figuring it out.

Until it was too late.

Once he sees. Or, they should say, once he SEES, it's almost too late to reverse. The curse, the spell, the whatever the fuck it is because it seems to be a mishmash of multiple magical ideals and cultures, like they'd been jammed in a cosmic blender and it just SHOULDN'T BE WORKING but it is...

It's doing something to the Overlords. Soemthing that each initially passed off as residual healing from the attack. It's not usual (to be loved by anyone...) for them to feel...off. Depending on the complexity of the injury and location, and the rapid nature of the regen, it could leave one feeling quite discombobulated.

In short, the spell things are targeted to them individually, and invoked by their blood. How they got scraps of it to even train the spell to begin with is anyone's guess, but Overlords scrap all the time... however, it also leave a sinking feeling in Lucifer's chest that this wasn't some fly-by-night scenario. This had been planned out for a long time. Which didn't bode well.

And then when it was fired, when it entered their heads and (even briefly) touched the blood, the viscera, the gorey internals... the spell activated. Blasting out in a sharp shockwave that imprinted the sigils, the spell, the curse within the regenerating tissue of each overlord. Immediately fed and nourished with the influx of power drawn from thralls to settle and expand.

It is now inside them, hard to claw out. Seeping into their very bones, muscle, tissue. Slowly tightening about their bodies, their minds, their power. They are weakening day by day and it never stops.

By the time it becomes obvious something is wrong, despite the best covering that all the Overlords manage, it's almost too late.

The power keeps going out, the phone networks die at random and the radios shriek. Services managed by Overlords stall without direct input. It's... a lot to deal with.

The anti-Overlords groups taunt and jeer, whipped into a frenzy by their puppet leaders. Ensorcelled sinners under angelic guidance.

----

Propaganda appears talking about how Overlords are dangerous and oppressive, that anyone seeking to rise to that status will be cut down once the current overlords are dead. Pictures of all the overlords deceased at the meeting go viral. Velvette convinces that its a deep deepfake.

Who? Why? What could this mean?

Stryker in here somewhere, orders from above to enact this. Someone with portal power, he was given the chance to work outside of time for only a minute in total, and he was able to enact all those shots simultaneously. He chafed at not being allowed to use his preferred weapon...

The curses start to drain the overlords, and limit their powers, siphoned off to this unknown person or some sort of totemic device (identify for plot).

Lucifer is getting nervous, sure he was leagues above Overlords but anyone who had the power of a dozen could potentially take over several goetia houses, and work on up accruing power from there, right?

Overlords don’t like accepting help or weakness, it takes a LOT to keep these fuckers from dying alone in the dark. Even Odette and Clara struggle to get their mother to truly express that she is hurt, weak, feeling unwell.

Stubborn to the last.

Some seem to shrink in stature. Some go pallid, others darken. Their bodies fighting every step of the way as they are physically forced back to human shape over a rapidly increasing duration. Vox is the most confused, having his human head back all of a sudden was the best and worst thing. Zeezi hadn't been this short in decades. Zestial had forgotten what being human even was.

Rosie... well, she was part hellborn, and it left the spell confused as to how to manage her. Susan staunchly keeps the others from eating her, but calls 'that tiny idiot in the stupid fruit basket hat' to come get her. A human in cannibal town, despite their love an adoration of her, won't last long. Instinct and all.

Their nerves are on fire, the overlords are consistently trying to hide what is happening. At first they manage to snap back into their demonic forms with effort, but as their magic wanes... it becomes increasingly clear that things are Very Wrong.

When it's discovered that they are all trapped in their human forms, Charlie personally collects who she can to bring them to the hotel. Some fight but well, she's a 6ft + super strong princess and they're human. which is to say, she can tuck them under one arm like an aggrieved chihauha at will and sneak them to her car.

The atmosphere of Hell isn't made for the living, and everything is slowly killing them. The air, the water, the lack of sunlight, the magic in everything. The furniture and other sentient things. The plants have a particular interest in eating them. Niffty has to decimate them with fire daily to keep them contained.

Mostly, despite their best efforts to remain mobile and help solve this conundrum, they're too weak for anything. But the idea of being weak, being vulnerable, even to the bleeding hearted princess, is terrifying to the overlords individually and collectively.

Alastor is particularly frustrated for various reasons, as his shadow is no longer animate... which feels like a part of him has atrophied and died. But, also, he's closer to the height of the wretched little King, who is having a great time with that. He's about an inch taller, but Lucifer's not letting that go.

Still, more concerning is that whatever it is has not yet finished with them. You'd assume this was the core of the matter, to turn them human where they'd be eaten alive by all of Hell... or killed by exposure to the atmosphere were the King not (reluctantly in some cases it must be said) providing some healing on a regular basis.

It starts when Velvette collapses, and can't be roused for well over two days. Blood pools unceasingly from-... well, it was clear how she'd passed, unfortunately. Charlie wanted to do mental health first aid the minute the overlord opened her eyes, but thankfully she was talked into Waiting for a more appropriate time.

Then Zeezi seized and hit the floor, and those who knew her recognised her cause of death (it had happened at a 90s rave, and amidst the flashing lights, pressed bodies, thumping techno and free substances no one had seen her seize until they found the body when the lights went up). Her body resisted purging the problem, despite heavenly effort.

The pair seemed locked in this... endless death.

Valentino was next, and that was oddly heartbreaking to see. Damage welling up all over the vindictive man's form, and it was clear he'd been beaten to within an inch of his life by someone. Even Angel, who fucking hated the guy, couldn't find joy in seeing something like this... even if it should have felt like vindication for everything Val did to him. He'd noticed Val had stayed away from the spider this whole time, but Angel had never been someone who'd force himself on others, not even in revenge. He jus didn't know how to say it out loud to the guy, when he wanted to spit in the usually-moth's face.

Three down.

Then Vox... his flesh sizzling and sloughing off as he collapsed. Electrocuted. Ironic. It took some fancy ward-work to stop the endless generation of electrical charge so they could get near enough to help.

[Can't tell when Carmilla died, google it, put her between the two]

Carmilla... well, her wounds were confusing. Some defensive, but strategic. Perhaps she had fought back better than her assailant had assumed? In the end, stab wounds opened on her body, and a glaring one across her throat as she laid on the carpet of her room, her daughters yelling for help.

Charlie had to take them aside and get them to play tetris through tear rimmed eyes (genuine trauma response technique) to calm them down. They'd seen this twice now. And previously, they'd died next, so it was hitting very hard.

Rosie and Alastor refused to say who was next of the two of them, both remaining cagey.

Alastor kept distant from the others, and only Husk had an idea how bad this would be. But he was close enough to Al's room when it happened, first the bullet through his thigh to make sure he couldn't run... then the marks of mauling, and finally a bullet hole between the eyes.

Charlie had screamed and shattered a mirror when she'd run at Husk's yell. Lucifer grimaced, but did what he could as the other fell into the odd coma all the overlords were trapped in.

"Told you... he hates dogs for a reason." Husk shrugged, and walked out. He maintained nonchalance long enough to duck into angel's room, head right to the toilet and throw up the last 18hrs of food because fuck, that was... that was terrible. One thing to know academically, and another to...

Rosie slowly began to freeze, and nothing they did helped, until her limbs locked up tight and water spilled from her lips. She'd been on the titanic, you see, maiden voyage and all. One of the few who decided her lifeboat seat should go to a youngster... but her penchant for eating husbands was weighed against her so, Hell it was.

She's put into a room full of regularly changed warm blankets, the water never stopped.

Zestial simply grew weak and fell into the coma one day, body twitching on occasion. Lucifer originally guessed infirmity or illness... but when he Looked Again he saw the signs of poison.

All of them down, all of them trapped in an endless deathcycle.

What could any of this mean? how was this helping Heaven or Hell or anything?

He's beside himself and calls on the Sins because What. The. FUCK?!

----------

Heavenly interference.

Calls on goetia that monitor the stars. Stolas scries that there is something on Earth on each gravesite that is channelling this downfall's magic.

Uses IMP to go to earth and find the totems, have them bring them to Hell where they can be studied.

Have to siphon out the curse with the totem, and then break it for each overlord, to bounce their power back.

Discover the angel, petition heaven for punishment. Get told too bad so sad.

Some sort of aftermath and dealing with the anti-overlord groups. etc.

ETC

[andypantsx3]

I started reading coin toss out of curiosity because sometimes i love me a good shiggy fic and i was wondering why it made you cry. With that summary and tags? "How bad could it be?"

HAH. HAHA even

Ive been on and off sobbing for the past 30 mins after finishing it

Thank you for the recommendation 10000000/10!!!

Cielo really came into the ring with a steel chair and beat all of us to shit lmaooo. Isn't it so good though?? I am not a Shiggy girlie but even I had my heart ripped right out of my chest!!

[tparker48]

Request for anonymous

"Let's see..add a few fine tuning on the stitches, tighten up the bells…" Merkeo muttered as he faced his computer desk, threading a needle through his jester suit. "Just a little bit of tugging and..There!”

He took a step back to admire his handy work. The black and red spandex glistened beneath his lamp, slumping from the miniature desk to the wooden board of the one beneath. It took him weeks to find a suit customizable, he could hardly count the shops he visited that sold suits for people his size. He took the suit from the desk, reminiscing its silky texture as it glided between his fingertips.

"Wait until the the peeps get a load of this, I can already tell this DnD session will be-"

A beep rang from the magnet on the front door, a hard thud striking the panel as a spiked cleat forced it to the wall. "Hey nerd! Guess who's home!" A voice boomed as the rest of their body lowered into the frame, the metal borders of the door screaming as they made their way passed. "I swear this damn door needs an adjustment. Hey nerd! Nerd!"

"I'm right here, Fervin!" Merkeo shouted, rubbing his ears from the vibrations in his ear drums. "Must you shout so loud? We're in a dormitory."

"What can I say? when I make an entrance, I make an entrance."

He slumped his duffel bag from his shoulder, tossing it against the wall as its weight sent a pulse through the floor. Merkel watched as his form strolled closer, like a looming storm cloud about to pour upon a landscape. The computer chair rushed back, Fervin's hide forcing the cushion down as it raced eagerly to support him.

He crossed his arms behind his back. "Oh it feels good to be out of that lecture room. The professor really cracked down on that essay, even double checked to ensure it was mine. Guess some pencil necks can’t handle such great genius."

"You mean my work. My whole sleep schedule’s out of whack because of your pestering."

the desk shook as spikes prodded upon the table. Merkel nearly yelped at its prickling touch, his hands casting to the air. "And it worked like a charm." He kicked his other foot upon the table. But he paused as he gazed at the slim ware hanging from his foot. “Huh, what are those? pajamas?”

The footwear wagged as Merkeo raced to retrieve his suit, cautiously eying the coned steel as they swiped from side to side. “If you must know, It’s my jester suit. And I would very much like it without holes for DnD.”

"That nerd shit? Pfft, lame. You can’t expect to get babes with a thing like that. Now that spring break party tonight, that’s where it’s really at. And guess who’s cohost? This guy!”

Merkeo managed to grab ahold of his suit, sliding it from the cold pedestal as he tumbled back to the desk. "You? Cohost? I don’t think they chose wisely on that."

“Cute, can’t be surprised to hear that from a bookworm. But If there’s one thing I know, it’s how to party.” He said. “The drinks, the babes, I can already imagine it now. And by the end of the night, I’m gonna bang me a cheerleader."

He raised his palms to the air, his fingers swaying to trace an hourglass shape. His hips slowly began to thrust, his junk pushing through from its pouch as it slithered to the leg hole of his shorts. Merkeo caught a glimpse as the phallus peeked out, shielding his eyes as his face flushed red.

"Ay Ay! TMI man, I don't want to see all that!"

"Aww is the nerd getting flustered?" His legs stretching over the desk, the hefty package between his legs gyrating against the wooden furniture. "I bet you wish you could be all over this."

"I’d rather do quizzes than be that close to you." he replied, "Will you put that away already?!"

"Hah, that's what I like about you nerds, always so squeamish." he slid his waist back to the chair, groping at the bulky outline. "Luckily for you, this bad boy has its eyes set on the ladies tonight. It can't waste time on small fries like you. Though it might give that thin noodle of yours some pointers."

"Thanks, but no thanks."

"Peh, suit yourself."

He grabbed a few beer bottles, hoisting them over his broad shoulders as he walked out of the room. Merkeo sighed, taking back to his suit as he checked for punctured points. Aside from dust particles, the fabric was unscaved. Thank goodness, he didn't know what he’d do if it became damaged.

He returned to his desk to tend to the rest of his props, organizing the board and creatures he was ready to unleash upon his members. Another hour ticked by in a flash, his notes piling over one another from his practice sessions. He yawned as he checked the clock on the wall, a quarter past 7:00 PM.

“Time for a break.” he leaned into his chair.

He took to his computer as he looked into his group chat for the group. Many online were already talking about the upcoming session, sharing new lores while roleplaying in their own channels. What a treat it was to indulge in fantasy, he thought, may he could give them a taste of the jester magic. He reached for his cards to select to share, but paused as he eyed his costume. He eyed the group chat as many shared their costumes, it sent an urge through his body, his fingers wiggling at the temptation of trying it on. He didn’t want to spoil the magic with a picture, but to send a picture of their grad DM, it may just make them excited, if not himself.

“Oh.. why not, I still have to make sure it fits anyway.”

He picked up the costume as he held it on his shoulder, stripping himself as the cool conditioning washed over him like a wave. He slipped his limbs inside, his hairs standing on end as they brushed against the elastic spandex. He soon put on his Cap n Bells as they dangled from the sides of his head, its little chimes sending a giggle from inside as he tapped at the round spheres.

“I think a quick selfie might do the trick. ‘The crowned jester and his future pawns’. Oo, that kinda has a ring to it.

He hovered his phone to get a better angle for himself, shifting the filter as sparkles boarded the frame. But the ground shook beneath as he caught himself, the water bottle on the desk rippling. An earthquake? It can’t be, the tectonic plate wasn’t near the university. Heavy thumps slowly overwhelmed the silent rumbles, traveling through the walls before it stopped at the front door.

The magnet chimed, but the handle didn’t turn as grumbling lingered behind it. The magnet reactivated, and pounds struck the door, as if a wild beast was trying to force its way in. Merkeo eyed the door as its pounds became aggressive, the green lighting of the magnet flickering before another strike snuffed out its light. The door slammed open, and wallowing filled the room.

Fervin loomed inside as he entered. One of his shoes were missing, and his "Damn it all..who do they think I am?! I'm a fuckin'.. Football player!"

His weight leaned as his feet stomped forward, like a drunk T-rex trying to run as he staggered to couch. He tripped over his own feet as he hurled toward the cushion, knocking the couch from its sliders as his head wedged into the soft gaps.

Merkeo used the railing in the room to make it over to the couch, standing upon the armchair. "The hell happened to you?"

"It's horrible..I go all that way to seek her out..An.. the hag blue balled me. Me!" He groaned into the cushions, scraping from its soft crevice. “You know how many want to..to.. Fuck me?!"

Fervin turned his head, his roaring breath flowing out like a dragon. Merkeo fanned the air as the smell of alcohol polluted the once clean air, holding the collar of his suit over his mouth to deter himself from passing out.

“You went and got yourself again! Didn’t you learn from the last party you went to.”

“Screw you!.. I don’t take orders from you! Why I..I” tears slowly sleeping through his eyes, a whimper escaping. “Damn it all..why do they have to make it so hard?”

Merkeo palmed himself. He must’ve drank too much if he’s already at his wallowing state. He sighed before hopping to the side of the lughead's face, caressing his cheek as its warmth filled his palm. "Hey now..you. There's no need to fuss about one girl." He said to him, wincing at the drool wetting his pants. "There's many out there in the sea, and I'm sure there's some out there waiting for him."

"Yeah right!" He blurted, knocking Merkeo onto his butt. " That's not gonna solve my aching cock right now!"

Fervin dug a finger through his waistband, the jock’s musk mixing with the tainted air as flesh squeaked against the sofa’s rubbery surface. The forearm above Steamrolled Merkeo as it traversed toward the bulging phallus, answering its wet call as his stubby fingers pampered its side. It throbbed it wedged itself between the crevice of the cushions, the jock’s hips flexing as he shuttered.

“Oh Yeah..that’s the stuff.” He muttered, his hips pumping into the couch.

"Dude! Not in the living room! Do that somewhere else."

"Sue me..I'm too pissed and horny to move."

His strokes increased as his hips moved like a wave, the wet slap of flesh overwhelming the silence in the room. Merkeo raced to comfort his ears as he moved to a cubard, searching through his supplies. He flipped over towels stashed in the corner, and found a plastic bottle of water sticking out from its packet. He wrapped his arms around the slender bottle and dragged it out, heaving it toward his drunken roommate on the couch.

“Alright, let’s get you sober so you don’t break the wall again?” Merkeo said.

Fervin grumbled as his knees slumped beneath him, thrusting him upward as his wait trailed backwards. Merkeo eyed cautiously at his blundering, backtracking as the stumbling feet trailed closer.

“I didn’t say move!” he yelped, rolling the bottle the opposite way.

But he wasn’t fast enough to outrun Fervin, his feet kicking in front of the other as he tilted like a chopped tree. The floor darkened before a wall of mass crashed at his back, burly arms planting the ground with a thunderous thump.

“That lady’s cheeks were cold… I’m barely s..satisfied.” He pawed the ground. “I need more!”

“Well you’re not getting one when you're on top of me! Now get off!”

His glassy eyes opened as he glared at him. "Piss off, man! I don’t need your..” he paused as he stared at the small roommate, his eyes blinking before they widened.

Merkeo met his gaze, looking at the marbled floor before looking back. "What?"

"Hey..where’d this toy come? Ho..How long have you been there?"

“Toy?" He blinked, tugging at his suit. "No, this is my suit, remember?"

"And it talks!..oh man..This must be my lucky day.”

"I have no idea what you're talking about. All that booze has gotten to your head. Why don't you go lay down and-" A palm wrapped around his body, plucking him from underneath. "Hey!"

His hand gripped like a vice, Fervin hauling him away as he returned to the couch with a drunken waltz. He was hurled into the closed fist as his back met with the soft cushion. He strung themselves to to the floor, a signal that rushed to the titanic cock as it pointed from his body. Merkeo pounded a hand at the sides of the jock’s fingers, the other covering his nose as the smell of rubber and jizz invaded his nostrils.

The phallus loomed closer, stamping at the gap between the middle fingers as it struck his chest. "A perfect fit..awesome." He slurred beneath his breath, his palms lifting as Merkeo plunged into the cavern of the couch, the bulbous head stamping his chin as it ensnared between his walls.

As the cock reached the bottom of the gap, it was a catalyst for Fervin’s arousal as hips began to pump. Flesh skidded against the silky suit, the phallus ramming into a pocket above Merkeo as the little bells were swallowed by the slit. Its warmth was overwhelming, his nostrils filling with a sour aroma as it stuck to his suit like cologne..

Merkeo raised his arms to shield himself. "Wait!…I'm not!.."

"Just a little more..a little more."

Fervin doubled his efforts as his hips twisted in place. The sweat that once dried between the cushions humidified as it loosened its restraints upon the tender skin, joined by the drizzling pre as it lathered into his roommate’s skin like lotion. The phallus scooped higher as it smashed Merkeo’s defense, the puffed edges moving like a wave as it stamped at his face.

He was stamped firmly as seed dressed his head, but unsatisfied puffs echoed above, a palm dragging him from underneath the bulging member. "Nrgh..that's not enough!" Fervin slurred from his lips. "How are you going to be a toy if you can't even get me off?"

"That's because I'm not a toy you lughead!"

His eyes squinted, eying the little roommates as strands of his own pre dripped to the couch. "Wha?..sure you are..I'm looking right at you." His fingers stamped across his body, the lonely bell on his right tuft jangling at his prods. "You look like a toy..feel like a toy. You are one…I'm just not using it right."

Gravity shifted as the palm tilted on its side, hovering over the hairy crotch. His other pinched eagerly at the drooling slit, pinching it open as its seed flowed down its underbelly like lava.

"What..what are you doing? No, hell no! You're not putting' me in there!"

"You better make this work..toy!"

"I told you I'm not a-!" his stomach dropped as the palm rushed toward the cock, a wet belch erupting from the cream filled phallus as it opened wide. Murky white fluid filled his vision as the orifice encircled his head. His shouts muffled from the bulging head, his palms slipping from the sides of phallus

Fervin's cock throbbed as it suckled at its meal. "Yeah…yeah that's the stuff. Get..right in there."

The palm loosed as fingers climbed over his feet, feeding more of Merkeo inside as its underbelly bulged with his body. With a giddish chuckle, he corkscrewed the rest of his feet inside as the slit closed. Wads of pre rushed into his body as it blinded him of the trip ahead, the muscular tube getting thickening as a suction pulled at his body.

A mere lump cast itself upon the jock's shaft, pulse after pulse dragging him down as it squeezed into the base of the shaft and into his prostate. More seed flooded the tender bean as the valve closed behind him, leaving him at the mercy of the muscular waves as it tenderized his body. He struggled to hold them back, his limbs sinking into their surface as he tried to find a way out. Pressure tugged at his feet, yanking him into the source of the musky fluid as he was dragged through the labyrinth swirling in the Jock's waist.

He held his breath as he was dragged through its loops, before he found him at its ridge as he slid through a long tube. He was deposited inside an enclosed sac, the walls forcing him to lay straight as if he were in an airtight compartment.

"Damn it Fervin, this has gotten way too far!!" he scowled, Worming himself toward the valve that winked out of reach, taunting at his predicament before it vanished behind a fold of seed coated flesh.

His calls were left unanswered, drowned out by the jock's beastly grunts as it reverberated through the walls.

wet slaps came from outside, jostling the testicle as if it were a fish bag. "That's the job..right there!" Fervin huffed louder.

The jock roared as the walls shrank around Merkeo’s body, the valve above him slurping the pool from the chamber as climbed through the tubes. The ceiling spasmed as spurts muffled the walls, Merkeo took the chance to breathe, but shriveled as his lungs filled with the ripe aroma of salt and bodily fluids. He squirmed along the walls to follow the fluid out, but his fingers wouldn't register as the stiff folds pucker in place.

Droplets of the lukewarm substance dripped at his back, and he groaned. "There, you had your little release. Now get me out of this thing!" He paused to hear the outside, the heavy wet thumps shaking the chamber as he swayed in place. "Hey! Are you listening?"

"Oh man..you are a good toy." He muttered, his voice distorted as if he were a broken speaker. "Ah really…good one."

"Yeah yeah, great, now get me out!"

Fervin’s words slowed as they traveled through his body. Gravity flicked as a heavy mass compressed the ceiling. The layer of flesh surrounding the testicle squashed at his torso.. The jock's breath grew heavy, rattling the muscles like rusted gears. He's kidding, he thought to himself, he sends him down his cock and now he's taking a snooze?

"You’re not sleeping with me in here!." He shouted. "Wake your ass up!"

He rattled the sac like an ape in a cage, thrashing himself in the compressed space to disrupt Fervin’s sound slumber. It was only when his knees cushioned into the round testicle did he get a reaction, the jock's body springing to life as a moan howled through the environment. Gravity shifted again, and the flesh barricading the orb pinned him down as the round lump cushioned his face.

He groaned as it tucked him against the corner wall, singing its whale songs of gurgles and churns to its captive audience. "Damn it.."

The hours ticked by since the events of that evening. Fervin tossed in his slumber, snarling from his nostrils as he rocked over the arms of the sofa. He stretched his limbs to scratch himself, but fell backwards as gravity pulled him to the floor. Sunlight erupted from the winder, burning into his eyes like a flashbang as he groggily got up.

He picked himself up from the floor, his balance tumbling to the cushion as he caught himself.. "Fuck what a night, all that partying really tired me out.." He scratched absently at his crotch, warm skin sticking to his fingers as he cocked it back, His barreled cock resting between his legs. “Where the fuck did my shorts go?..”

He stretched before getting up from the couch, giving one last yawn as he fetched a protein shake from the fridge. He looked at his roommates' things, his props scattered along the tabletop as his cotton bed was toppled from the windowsill. The nerd’s already gone, he thought, guess he decided to leave early for spring break. That’s good, he didn’t have to worry about underwear then. He drank at his shake and moved onto his side of the room, kicking his suitcase between his legs. He crumpled his clothes, tossing them inside as a hill slowly formed.

He scratched at himself once more, reminiscing at his fingers touch as his nut flexed over them. But he squinted as he gazed at the round sphere. Something was different about them, his right testicle sagged lower than the other. He fondled beneath its weight as his cock throbbed. It might just be his imagination, he did hold a lot of his seed in there last evening.

"I’m sorry big boy, I got too drunk to enjoy you properly.” He massaged his shaft. “But I bet you got plenty of rest after you had your fun."

"Absolutely not?"

He blinked at the sudden voice, looking at his Cock. He poked at its pudgy surface for a response, but it only throbbed. "Heh..hehe, I must have had way too many shots last night. Thought I just heard my cock talking."

"Not the cock you idiot!" The voice echoed again.

He cocked a brow as he stared at his member, movement rising beneath the sagging right testicle. He scooped his sac into his palm, pinching at the active orb as he rotated it. A squirming lump curled along its edge, a soft imprint appearing before a flex pulled it down.

His palm flung from his ball, letting them swing between his legs as his heart pounded. "What the hell did I drink last night?! My ball's coming alive!"

"No, It's me! Merkeo!"

"Merkeo?" He paused, looking back at the wiggling lump. He poked at its side, a pathetic whimper escaping from it. "It is you, nerd! The hell are you doing in my balls!"

"Take a guess! You shoved me in here on another one of your drunk sprees."

"Drunk spree? I don't know what the hell you're talking about." He said. “As far as I can remember I was alone..then again, there was this talking toy. Don’t remember much but it kept squawking about not being a..toy. Huh, well that explains all the whining.”

“You fucked me into the couch.”

He groaned upon the nerd’s response "Yeah well..you should’ve been more careful. It’s not my fault you’re in there.”

“It literally is!"

"Potato, Potato."

He moved toward the glass mirror along the wall, reaching , putting on his underwear as he got dressed. He pulled the back as the thin fabric saddled his glutes, letting his cock spill over the pouch as he took to his suitcase.

His nuts jangled together like wind chimes, crashing into his thighs. "What are you doing now?"

"What do you think I’m doing? I’m packing for the weekend. I’ve got shit to do back at home, and since you're stuck with me, you'll just have to tag along until we get back."

"What?! I'm not staying in here! DnD is this weekend!" Merkel said, pressure climbed through his epididymis to the valve connecting to the rest of the cock. The right nut sway passively, flexing as the sensation of fingers prodded at the tight folds. "Gotta get..out of this thing!"

The jock snorted at the attempt. "Oh boy, aren't you nerds supposed to be smart or something? My cock doesn't take orders from nerds, it listens to one that has the oomph to shake it. And that's yours truly."

"Then get on with it already."

"You’d love that wouldn’t you? To see yourself ejected from a real cock." he fondled his nuts between his fingers. "Unfortunately I’m still spent. It's gonna be a long while before these babies are ready for another round."

“And how long would that take.”

“Hell if I know, 3 hours or so.” “Three hours?!”

“Yup, so might as well get comfy until I fetch for you.”

He raised his cock over the flap, sealing it inside the pouch as he tied his shorts. He reeled his luggage into the hallway, following the narrow passageway toward the elevator in the crossway. Movement shifted as Merke tried to adjust in the compact space, the bulk of Fervin’s nuts dog piling his lump as it jostled in the pouch of his jockstrap. That nerd really knows how to get under his skin. Literally. Though he'll give him one thing, it felt good to have his balls stimulated, like a hot girl playing with his balls. The elevator doors opened, and he stepped inside. As they closed, he groped at his crotch, humping at the air.

He picked up a soft whimper from beneath the fabric, pressure building at his testicle as soft kneads rested upon it. He still didn’t know how to feel above having the nerd in there,but at least he’ll help filling him up back home..

The ride with Fervin was a long and bumpy trip. Every passing moment was filled with flesh jumbling Merkeo around, marinating him in the little puddle that climbed at his ankles as the testicular wall shriveled and compressed. He didn't know how far they traveled, the outside was too muffled to depth the surrounding environment except for the purrs of jock’s vehicle. After another eternity of stewing in the jock's balls, inertia pulled ahead as his face was wrapped in a sheet of muscle.

His steps boomed as a door creaked open, the sound of a zipper being undone as the sac rolled on its side. "Ah, it's good to be back home." Fervin’s voice distorted through the walls..

Merkeo padded at the soft tissue to get the jock's attention, the testicle spooning into his torso. His palms were pinned by the protruding bulge, only managing to use his ankles as he bucked weakly as the ridge of the testicle.

A heavy thud struck the balls, the soft curvature of fingers pressing at his back. "Eh? oh yeah, forgot you were in there."

Not a surprise. "It's been hours since I've been here. Can you get me out now?"

“I told you that’s not how my nuts work, nerd. They need the energy to get them started.”

“You said you needed three hours!”

Fervin laughed heartily. “I said It’d take me three hours to fill them, I never said I’d be ready to release it.”

The sac shook as its contents plonked around, the seed secreting from the wall spreading out as they washed over Merkeo’s body. His stomach dropped as the fingers let go, the nuts beginning to sway as steps boomed outside. A soft pressure cushion at the walls, tight leather scrunching beneath him.

“Been a while since I checked on the game” Fervin said. “I wonder if my K/D is still intact.”

The jock’s weight shifted as the sac tilted, forcing Merkeo to spoon beneath the rough lump as seed polled at his shoulders. Fervin's voice could be heard beyond the walls, blurting comments as a controller clunked high above. His obnoxious bantering went on for another hour, his balls rocking periodically as a finger scratched at the testicular layer. Merkeo tried again to get him to answer, splashing at the pool of seed that splashed beneath his chin. But he only received a brush from one of the thighs, followed by cursing as he shouted at someone in the game.

Outside the sun loomed past the hill in the window, the crimson sky slowly turning blue as the moon rose from the horizon. Merkeo tilted his neck as he faced the quivering sphincter above, counting its flexes as seed drooled from its lips. It’s all he could do, with his limbs bathed into the milky pool as the muscle flexed in place.

“Fuck yeah!” Fervin’s voice blurted,the testicles thrusting forward before snagged. “Hope you like that grenade yas wuss! That’ll teach ya to steal my kill!”

“Fervin!” Merkeo called out, thrashing against the tender wall. “Fervin!”

The chamber shifted, pressure applying to his back. “What now nerd?”

“Are you ready yet? It’s getting kind of full in here.”

“Hmm..They are kinda heavy…” the pressure behind him pushed at his body, a thrust sending a wave over the little roommate. “And I’m already pumped as it is, why not.”

“Yes! Finally!”

A rumble boomed above, a bubbling torrent shaking the walls as pressure melted behind him. “Shit, I forgot all about dinner. Can’t wank one out on an empty stomach.”

Merkeo swayed as Fervin traversed the household, his steps hardening as it traveled through his body. Wrappers muffled from above as the jock giggled to himself, followed by a meaty crunch as he chewed on his food. He listened to symphony of crumpled wrappers and munching for moments, and still he had yet finished his feast. The fluid climbed higher, dosing his ears as if they dipping sauce.

The walls flexed, and he raced to force them back. “It's getting a little cramped in here, are you ready to release yet?” “Eh? Release what?”

“Your seed!”

“Oh yeah yeah, I’ll get right on it. Just..” an announcer muffled from outside, followed by bells as cheer muttered in the background. “Oo, the playoffs! I forgot that aired today.” He walked over as the sounds came closer, springs creaking beneath him.

“Wait a second, get me out first.”

“Don’t sweat it, it won’t be long. I’ll have you out by halftime, jock’s promise.”

Merkeo groaned at the response, working his limbs close to deter the walls from overtaking the pocket. He didn’t know if he could bear the salty aroma, each whiff was like intaking smelling salt, forcing him to buck at the round testicle that threatened to submerge him without hesitation. Buzzing rang from beneath him as a bubbled climbed into the pocket, his phone emerging from the pool as a notification was plastered upon it.

It was from one of the members, sending a message about the meet for tomorrow. He fiddled a finger toward its direction, its angled edge taping at his fingertips, before a fold greedily dragged it out of sight. He sighed as he faced the wall, thrashing it about to get Fervin’s attention. This time there was no response, all except his goofish giggling as he mocked the game. He couldn’t do anything but wait, tugging into the soggy fold as he closed his eyes.

A few minutes passed as he opened his eyes, once chaotic background softening as snores followed behind it. He was still in his balls, and he was fast asleep. In rage, he thrashed about the chamber to cause discomfort, swiping at the lump at his torso despite how weakly his limbs slipped off.

A roaring ocean filled his ears, as the side of his hear were submerged in milky pool. In shriveled defeat, he closed his eyes, awaiting for the jock to wake up once more. DnD was tomorrow, and he couldn’t stand being trapped in his nuts for a moment more. —-------------------------------------- Throughout the next day, he slept to conserve his energy, listening to Fervin’s wandering as carried out his activities. When waved of seed flowed into his nostrils, he shot awake, kicking the testicle as a jolt shook the walls. A groan escaped from the jock as fingers took to his balls, forcing him to adjust as the chamber tilted it’s side.

“Watch where you’re kicking in there will ya?” Ferman demanded. “These babies are to be treated with care!”

“These babies are a nightmare, I’ve been stewing in here for god now’s how long!”

“Oh please, you barely move in there, it can’t be that bad.” “You’re not the one neck deep in side!” He bent his knees to open more space, driving his feet into the sides of the testicular wall.

Its flesh raced to subdue, contracting its muscle around him like a snake. But he refused to let himself cave under its pressures, prying at the opposite wall.

Fervin’s body twisted. “What are you doing?”

“DnD is tonight, I can’t stay in your balls any longer. And if I have to cause a ruckus, then so be it!”

His body lit ablaze as he took to the lump, kneading into the tender walls as the testicle throbbed beneath its layer. Fervin’s fingers raced to subdue his efforts, but the sac was too full to add enough pressure, Merkeo using it as a shield as battered the walls with his own body.

After moments of struggling, a roar of defeat erupted from Fervin." Fuck it! Fine I’ll get you out.” he announced. “Was getting tired of hauling you around anyway."

The testicles swayed as he wandered outside. It wasn't long before pressure built beneath, the opposite testicle shifting before it dropped off a ledge. The sound of wet slaps returned from above, sending ripples in the chamber as the testicular sac compressed Merkeo's face.

"Ugh, my suit is so ruined, can't you pump faster?"

"Don't get your tidy widdies in bunch ya nerd, I'm almost there."

The walls flexed harder, compressing his feet as he squeezed along the hump like paste in a canister. The valve slowly began to quiver, widening slowly a seed rushed through its mouth. It flowed into its tubes like a pipeline, gulping periodically at the substance as he himself was pulled close to its lips.

Strands of his own hair were plucked between the soggy lips, crowning his head as seed piled his shoulder. But flex ceased as the narrow tube dried up, clamping at his head as seed disappeared into the abyss above. "What the? What's the hold up?"

A muffled ring vibrated the walls, the pounds halting as the jock shifted slowly. "Got a call." Fervin said, answering the device. "Bandi, my boy, what's up? Yeah I’ve been in town, just letting out some steam."

"Hey! Don't stop, keep going!"

"Give me a fucking minute, I'll get there…no no, just talking to a nerd is all I-…wait seriously?! Oh shit, count me in!"

The sac rattled from the jock’s excitement. "What are you doing out there?"

"The boys found a goldmine for some chicks from the cheerleading squad at the university. Looks we're heading to the bar."

"What?! What about me?! You still have to take me out!"

"I'll fetcha ya later, Right now I gotta fetch old faithful from the drawers. I'm gonna catch me a big one tonight"

The chamber thrashed as he braced himself for another tide, the thick goop dragging down his body like syrup. He stretched his limbs to pierce the tender muscle, but pouted at the meat pocket. Unbelievable, he was about to be free from this hellhole before that phone call. He couldn’t bear more of Fervin’s antiques for god knows how, but it appears he didn’t have much choice.. Before he knew it, the chamber moved as steps trailed outside, a door muffling open as the purrs of the truck returned.

And so began the trip to the bar. Voices muffled from the walls as Fervin greeted his friends, softer tones following them as he assumed they were women. His hips gyrating was the confirmation he needed, if not rhythmic throbbing from the shaft.

The minutes felt like an eternity as jazz played from the bar, glasses clanging together as the jock’s obnoxious chattering filled the void. His ears submerged in seed was a mercy compared to listening to the awful pick up lines he spewed from his mouth.

"This is so humiliating." he groaned.

"Hey baby, there's no need to take a seat on these raggedy old chairs, come take a gander at this one" Fervin said, heavy thumps causing the sac to dip.

Pressure ensued as the testicle rolled at his back. His torso sunk like an island landscape, dipping beneath the murky fluid as it climbed to his chin. He struggled beneath the titanic weight above, the thigh outside bouncing as it jostled the chamber..

"Oh my, you make a pretty good seat." A woman's voice said above.

"Oh ho baby, I can do more than just cushion."

"Oh for fuck sake." Merkeo covered his ears, hoping to drown out the conversation.

Another hour drew by as he listened to the oaf's bantering. At one point, chattering dwindled before the nutsack spilled forward, and the crushing weight was relieved. Fervin was on the move, the sounds of the bar growing distant until it became white noise in the background.

He scraped the wall before placing his ear against it, curiosity overwhelming him as he listened to the jock’s steps. The zipper of the pants were undone, and he spilled forward as flesh caught his fall.

"Here they are my dear, my pride and enjoy in all its glory."

"You weren't lying, it certainly is thick."

“He’s with a girl, of course he is.” his side cramp as a lump fondled his back, He squirmed to ease its protrusion, elbowing the testicle as the jock released a grunt.

"Is everything all alright?" The woman asked.

"Oh yeah sure, everything is just fine. Just a little..excited is all." Fervin replied. "Afterall, how can a guy not melt for a hot doll like yourself."

The chamber shook as the lump flattened, seed rushing from the other end like a dam as it splashed into Merkeo. Slow wet pounds filled the void, the testicle compressing before it squashed into his body. A disgruntled moan pierced the air as the sac swayed forward, a dulled edge separating the balls as softer moans echoed ahead..

God, She's sucking him off, as if his problem weren't already wacky enough. He fought the testicle to plug his ears, but its ridge forced them away, allowing the demented display to continuing as it intensified. The pressure returned as digits cupped behind him, thinner than the ones before as their pointy ends prodded his back.

The pool increased as it climbed over his head, a current seeping into the valve as it widened closer. Muscle contraptions echoed beyond the thick walls, glurking as the women's moan grew fierce. The sac pulse, and the valve widened as it guzzled seed to the surface..

"Hope you're thirsty, cause I'm gonna unleash my load inside."

"Like hell you are!" Merkeo blurted, thrashing from the chamber.

The lump prodding at his back vanished beneath murky waves, the balls dropping as they bashed against the jock’s thigh. "Did your balls just talk?!" The woman squealed.

"N..no? Did you hear them talking? I..I didn't hear them talking."

"Disgusting! Absolutely disgusting."

The sound of boots muffled from the outside, growing softer as the chamber thrashed about. "No! Come on babe, Come back!" Fervin called desperately for her, the door slamming shut. A vice grip wrapped the testicle, and Merkeo was smothered into the walls. "Damn it you nerd, you scared her off!"

"I scared her off?! I was nearly protein for her! I'm trying to get out from inside you, not end up in another."

"Well congratulations cause now I'm fucking limp, thanks for that." A bang sounded from outside as the jock began to walk. "Can't believe I got cock blocked by a nerd."

The sac rocked between his legs as the creaking door lingered from overhead, trailing off somewhere behind them as the sound of the roaring crowd returned. Merkeo tucked himself against the corner pocket of the chamber, it was the only place he could manage to breath without intaking the salty seed. He heard the jock's friend talking, reminiscing over the cheerleader storming out of the bar. His response wasn't pleasant, a squeeze smother the eager testicle against his head as if to point the blame upon him. but it relented as he relaxed, his balls drooping at the thigh.

He curled against the opposite wall, before a buzz rumbled from above, his phone squeezing from the compressed fold as it slid in front of him.

a photo appeared from beneath the milky substance, a group photo with his friends dressed in their fictional costumes. Speak of the devil, he thought, here comes the fruits of his labor reminding him of his failed attempt. What he would give to be there right now. He focused on the group photo, admiring the designs each of them chose to wear. but his eyes furrowed as he caught a glimpse of one of the members, his eyes widening.

"No way.."

That late night dragged into Sunday morning, as Fervin drove back into the dorm room as he tossed his backpack. Merkeo eyed the quivering sphincter above as its lips expanded, the walls compress as he catapulted into the tight tube. The ride up was rigid and slow, but fast enough to wipe seed clean from his skin before he squeezed back into the embrace of the jock's prostate. In a firm push he climbed up the urethral tube, skyrocketing into a tupperware container as he collided against the plastic wall.

The jock scorned above, the milky stream pouring faster as he shielded his face. "Alright that's enough!"

"Not yet it's not." Fervin said grumpily.

the stream pushed at his palms, piercing their way through as he slid into the smooth corner, it was only until his palm remained uncovered did it finally stop, and the slit sealed shut.

"Now it's finished” Fervin sneered at his handy work, shaking the drizzle from his cock before turning toward his stuff.

"Hold it!" Merkeo muttered, rising from the gunk. "We're.. we're not done."

"oh we're not huh? and what makes you say that?"

"You cost me the whole weekend! you have to make up for it!"

"Wha?.." the jock burst from laughter. "What are you on about, you're the nerd who got stuck in there in the first place."

"Only because you put me there. and nearly got me swallowed."

He rolled his eyes, fanning at the remark as Merkeo climbed out of the container. In a slippery leap, the little roommate lunged as he clung to the tufts of his jersey. It was like holding onto a moving vehicle, seed soaking his suit fanned to the luggage on the floor. Fervin drew closer to the computer desk, and jumped as he followed him to the tissue box, stomping at its opening as the giant palmed reached for it..

the jock's face soured. " You're really starting to get on my nerves."

"Likewise, but I'm not letting you off the hook. you’re going to pay up, right here, right now."

"Oh you gotta be shitting me." he chuckled. "Fuck it, I'll bite. What? What could a little nerd like you do to force me to pay you back."

He dug into the soggy pouch of his pocket of his suit, taking out his phone. He clicked at the photo, holding it to the air as Fervin's face loomed closer. "This is how!"

"Hah! What more nerds? Get over yourself."

"They may look like mere nerds to you. But one of them I'm sure you know quite well." he zoomed the photo closer, focusing on a woman dressed as a witch. "That lady right there is Cindy, the lead cheerleader of our university. I wonder what she might think if she finds out about our little mishap. I'm sure she'd love to share the adventure with the football captain."

The jock’s eyes widened before narrowing. "You don't have the balls to go through with that."

"Oh yeah? One already think's you have talking balls, I'm sure they can puzzle the rest if I speak up."

The jock growled, reaching a palm as the thick digits twitched in rage. it lunged forward, yanking a tissue from beneath Merkeo’s feet as it crumpled into a withered mess. "What do you have in mind?.."

"Heh."

"It's so good to see you again, Merkeo” Cindy greeted him, lowering a finger as he shook her hand. We missed you last night’s session. You’re wearing your night costume again?”

He scratched at his head, adjusting his cape. "Yeah, the other suit kinda got stuck in a rut. Fashion crisis am I right? But hey, we at least got time to catch up on a session. I even brought a plus one."

Heavy thuds came from the hallway, sharp squeaks lingering as a silhouette peered through the frame. An inflated dragon loomed in, Fervin’s soured face tucked beneath its chin as the rest of the rubbery suit hauled inside, he grumbled as he wrestled his tail inside, bumping it against the door.

"I'm sure you two know each other."

"We sure do.” Cindy said, “I didn't think he took part in DnD."

"You could say he had a change of heart." He replied, sharing glances with Fervin as his fiery gaze overshadowed the derpy expression of the inflatable.

They prepared the table as they all encircled it, Merkeo taking out the dice as many took their roles. scattered the props along the props behind the bordered sheet, he cleared his throat. "Alright ladies and gents, let’s begin. The adventurers set out upon the request of the king, a dragon has been spotted in a cave near the kingdom. You find the entrance and travel through its catacombs. There, surrounded by shimmering gold and diamonds, lay the beast. Sprawled upon its haunches as it snarled at your intrusion.”

Merkeo paused as he scooped the dice in hand, lending them to one of the members dressed as a wizard. “Care to start us off.”

"Oh Oh! I roll to ride the ride dragon"

"Try it and I'll flatten you like a crumpcake, pinhead!" Fervin snarled.

"Ah ah, not without a roll you're not." Merkeo assorted, nodding toward the little wizard.

The wizard squeed as they shook their hands in place, the dice jumbling like ice cubes as they rolled them to the thin sheet crossing the table. both dices toppled themselves, number nine marking the both of them.

"ooo, Nat 18. the wizard casts a construct to cast himself atop the dragon."

The wizard let out a high pitched squeal as They climbed aboard the inflatable forearm. Fervin eyed in disgust as the little one stood atop of him. the googly eyes of the dragon jangled as they clung to one of the ears, pulling it from one side of his body to the other.

the dragon squeaked as it smothered Fervin’s face, his neck jerking from side to side. "Hey! what the-?!"

“Wow, you really are pulling your weight." Merkeo said. I figured you'd make a good dragon.”

"Get them the fuck off me!"

"mm, not how it works. you gotta announce it, then roll."

"Oh for the-" he reached for the dice at the end of the table, fingers denting the barrier as they rattled. "The dragon attempts to throw the nuisance off."

He flung the dice forward, their forms streaking across the table like cannons as they pushed the barrier back. The dice came to a standstill, number one marking them both.

"Ooo two, the dragon failed to throw the wizard off. bummer."

"The hell?! what kind of bullshit is that I-"

"Our rodeo isn't over yet, dragon!" the wizard yelled, heaving at the inflated ears like reins. "Your hide will be a fine reward for my potions!"

"Crushing you is still on the table you damn pest!"

Merkeo watched as the two of them bicker, admiring the jock's flailing as he walked sluggishly against the walls. but he turned his head as Cindy whispered for his attention, lending an ear toward her.

"He seems pretty aggressive for a DnD player, Are you sure he's here to play?" She asked.

He looked toward the two once more, the wizard yanking backward as Fervin pivoted like a horse on a hill. He smiled as he placed a hand on his cheek. "Oh yeah, I'm sure."

[valentine-cafe]

. ˚◞♡ mercenary bosses x gn reader ꒰ kinktober: gun ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 9948e rasui / reader / lisse ꒱ you're a new recruit and you catch the eyes of both of your leaders. they just so happen to find out that you have a gun kink

𖹭. content warnings◞  explicit content . penetrative sex . gun kink . oral fixation . rough sex . degradation . praise . 1.6k

𖹭. receipts◞  decided to do this in headcanons ! these two are soooo

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

𖹭. a newly recruited mercenary - who knew you’d find yourself between two of your merc leaders? you’d seen the tension between them; so imagine your surprise when you were down on your knees in rasui’s office while lisse crooned down at you. an appetiser for the many - many sessions you would spend with them

𖹭. they’ve noticed the way you stare a little longer whenever they pull out a gun. either on a mission or elsewhere. you can’t help it. you’re already fatally attracted to them and now to see their pretty hands on such a weapon? so skilled and tempered? you couldn’t help but go home and hump your pillow after a particular week of aim practice around the syndicate.

𖹭. lisse has always preferred guns a bit more than rasui. you learnt that especially when she had you slotted over the barrel of her gun and grinding your clothed crotch down. all while she pressed kisses up your throat and mumbles soft praised to you

“doing so good, hmm? does it feel good, pretty petal? mhhm?”

𖹭. of course rasui joined in on the whole ordeal with his own pistol. tracing it along your most sensitive parts - while the cold metal grazed and contrasted the warm feeling of him fucking into you. while you’re partially bent over his desk and taking him like the good darling you promised to be. rasui always fucked hard. it seemed that having a loaded gun pointed at you made him even more feral. the backs of your thighs were all sore.

“hah - so she was right? my, what a lovely little kink you have. . .”

𖹭. on you knees between lisse’s legs as she sat upon her office chair. you begged to taste her. to eat her out like she deserved. instead you got your mouth fucked by her pistol instead. a hand tight on the back of your neck. and while she is careful - she certainly does enjoy the way you drool around the black steel. her head tilted to the side and that sweet, cunning smile on her pink lips. if you’re lucky she’ll grind her high heeled shoe up into your throbbing crotch. remind you that your pleasure only comes when she says so.

𖹭. she’s made you lick around the barrel. drool and salivate all over. kiss at the rim. all while you caress at her thighs and whine for her. she’d be a liar if she said that the sight was not beyond arrousing.

“choking so well on it. enjoy it mor than rasui, do you?”

𖹭. well you had that answered when rasui just so happened to enter the office after. he made sure to give you a little reminder and fucked your throat for you just right. until you were choking on his cum and whining around his cock so prettily. all while lisse watched. leaned back in her chair and looking oh so serene.

𖹭. rasui has fucked you wild from behind. bent over and whining. while lisse takes the liberty of pushing the barrel into your mouth again. so that you feel utterly helpless by the two of them. if you whine and cry enough she might replace it with herself. have you messily, sloppily eat her out while she degrades you. and while rasui makes a mess of your insides.

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[friend-of-inkfish]

Tammie led a snatcher to a house near Inkopolis plaza.

The scent was painfully easy to track. Since their eyesight was worse, it became almost easier to smell stuff out.

The inkling that had caused the trouble was sitting at a computer with few cheap energy drinks, seemingly arguing with someone online.

Tammie crept into his room, searching for something specific.

Bingo

The snatcher grabbed the spawner and the two nodded quickly out of the house.

Tammie waited quietly. Then, they saw it. The bobber of a maws on the ground. “Got it. Tell the fly fish to keep firing at him. Do not break the spawner.”

The maws pointed her head out of the ground. “Shining Scales, I just want to give you a heads up. The fields felt… off. A little while back. Let’s hope the glowflies don’t lead us to take this too far.”

The salmonid froze, thinking about how glowflies appeared. They were in a rage over the comments and the events with Cyclone. “I. Yeah. Don’t know why. I just want him to stop what he’s doing. He’s gone too far. Let’s just hope it doesn’t happen again.”

The maws swam away, startling some people who saw the bobber go by. Tammie snuck back into the house, frying pan in hand. Without hesitation, she knocked the inkling out of his chair, quickly battering him into he splated.

—

A stunned Inkling respawned on the shore, surrounded by a bunch of salmonids, immediately, a flyfish started firing at him. The fish cheered as he ran around in circles pitifully, having a good laugh. Tammie had dived into a sewer, managing to swim around. It was faster than running anyway. They cheered the flyfish on. They joined in the chirps and laughs as the inkling struggled to keep dodging.

When the inkling got splatted again, he got up and looked around furiously. “I’ll- I’ll tell grizzco about this! I’ll have you all killed and filleted!”

“Oh! I’d be nice tender!” A smallfry chimed, hopping up and down.

“We’d be feasted on honorably!” Shouted a steel eel pilot.

“Let the juices fly!”

The salmonids cheered and laughed at the suggestion, clearly not intending any major harm.

The inkling stood up, practically shaking in his kensas as the salmonids had him circled. “What is wrong with you guys! Grizzco is wrong to try and accommodate you freaks. You’re going to try and eat me!”

Tammie giggled. “Eat you? We wouldn’t want to eat you even if you asked. You smell awful. Someone who behaves as rotten as you probably tastes as bad if not worse.”

“YOU.” The inkling with gold tentacles shouted, his blue eyes locking on Tammie as he tackled her, throwing punches. It was enough to stun them. They immediately felt blunt pain on by eye as the inkling seemed to be aiming for it. In a panic, Tammie bit at his arm, trying to get away. They tore off a bit a fabric, pulling back.

“THAT WAS A NICE JACKET! TONI KENSA IS EXPENSIVE! I’ll sue you! I’ll make you buy another one!” He shouted.

Tammie stared back at him, sighing. “No. I’d say we’re close to even… as close to even as we can get. Im sorry for biting at your arm. Take your spawner and go home.”

The salmonids looked at eachother, shrugging and making a space for him to return.

“Hah. Hah! Pathetic. Be glad I didn’t have my clash blaster. This would be many of your last days. You guys are probably the only thing worse than those dome kissers. Should have never let them back on the surface. Maybe I should do stuff like this more often. If I could help dig up information on some idiot who came from some far out domes, I can do it with anyone. I knew they couldn’t be trusted!” The inkling took the block shaped spawner and attempted to hit Tammie, right on the head.

The salmonid barely dodged, grabbing the pan they dropped when punched. They charged at him before he even had the chance the spring away. Tammie heard a few gasps, along with some uncomfortable shifting. Everyone seemed scared to move as they entered a rage they had rarely ever felt.

Faint buzzing began to be heard, and everything felt greyish as a few clouds covered the area.

At first it was just Tammie, but slowly little glowing specks began to dance around, slowly going around the inkling. The salmonids all stared, one by on more giving into the instinctive onslaught. The faint green light once again reflecting off of Tammie’s scales.

Every time the inkling was splatted, he respawned. Right in the middle of the glowflies and salmonids. A few of them were starting to accidentally dent the spawner…

[shallowseeker]

CAS: Sam, may I ask you a question? SAM: Hah! You just did! CAS: *exasperated* Can I ask you another question? SAM: Well, technically you--*sees the murder on Cas's face* — Yeah, go ahead. What's up?

Real dialogue from 9x11, of Cas trying to have an important conversation with Sam and encourage him to talk to his living family. Reminding him that family chooses each other even when the chips are down.

Annoying Sam coming in with the steel chair tho

In the scene that follows Cas is like, "Nothing is worth your life" and "isn't it amazing I've developed empathy now" blahblahblah.

But he still wants to kill Sam sometimes. Both can co-exist.

[justcallmesakira]

Dazai x reader valentines

Dancing under the rain after valentines dinner. The reader isn't good of a dancer and doesn't like getting drenched in the rain.

"SET LOVE TO THE RAIN"

Sypnosis: You hated the rain and getting drenched and you were not really a good dancer until you lover forcefully brought you out to have a quick dance.

Dazai x reader

Genre: fluff, romance

A/N: hi there I am rlly sorry it took me so much time I know it's past Valentines but yeah yk mental health heehe♥️

You and dazai were on a date at a nice cafe for valentines

It was cloudy all day but the atmosphere was filled with love and cheesy couples. You could smell coffee and cheescakes too.

Both of you talked for a long while. None of you could care less about what was happening around.

"Say say, Bella! Do you like dancing?" Dazai asks you with a childish tone, one containing flirt and excitement.

You paused for a moment.

"No not really, I am not that good fo a dancer" you non chalantly speak out. You never liked those cheesy romantic waltz moments. Especially since you were not a great dancer.

If anything, you would question why they do those childish acts especially in public.

"Awwwh why donna'? It's so romantic! Plus I am sure you can dance with those amazing leather boots. Hah like that one girl from titanic"

Osamu exclaims and make a fake put, he probably knew why and the reasons but of course like the man you knew he will question you about it.

You shot him a small glare as much as you wanted him to have a nice dinner date on this day you prefer staying put in your comfort zone.

The weather soon started to deteriote even more. The moons dimness was also starting to hide behind large sets of clouds.

The evening clouds still looked pleasing. The heaviness of the blocks of soft clouds hovering over the lit buildings of yokohama and the light breeze brushing past your clothed skin made the scenary even more appealing.

It seemed that it will start drizzling soon.

"Oh god i forgot my umbrella...Though we are not going anytime soon" you spoke your thoughts out aloud as your coat shifts with you leaning against the chair to check whether it was really raining or not.

You brought back your head inside the shade of the coffee shop, the spalshing of water was reaching both of your shoes and creating a puddle to which your lips ticked.

Dazai noticed this and instantly arised from his seat with a big smile.

"Osamu?.." you called out when all of a sudden he grabs your wrists and brings out of the shade and out to the airy night.

You could only yelp in surprise as dazai takes your hand in his and grabs your waist tight.

The njght street barely had anyone present except a few lights on here and there which also turned off. The whole crossroad was empty.

The rain splished and sploshed on the footpaths and tall architectures it was hard to hear almost anything except clattering and the sound of water droplets hiting steel cold iron bars.

The thunder made sounds like a piano falling from wooden stairs as the rain poured like steel rods. Even so Dazais body moved along with yours.

What a beautiful and eternal moment but you didn`t like this, getting drenched in the rain and all of this.

As you wear taking in the natures features, completly mesmerized you sensed back to the scenery in front of you as Dazais bandaged arms guided your waist and body creating smooth movements of a dance.

''Samu! Calm down!!" you had to scream out because of the sound of both of your shoes clacking against the road cement mixing up with the clatter of the down pour.

"I wont belladonna! Just keep following my steps" he shouted back with a smile as he twists you around with a spin, your wet body moving itself with each sound of thunder. He danced with you and you did too, like a marionette.

Your head was slightly dizzy because of your wet hair and you hated this but seeing that smile on his face as he clasps your hand tighter and guides your foot to each side of the road just feels...so warm even though your soaked in water.

With each step you could feel your body adjusting to his craziness.

Finally after you swallowed your own spit you took a brave step and moved along with him, grasping his body for slight support.

A step over there, Another over there... A clack over there, Another thunder there... With two hands held together swifting here and there...

Your feet and hands felt elated.

"Dazai.." you huffed loudly as you tried to keep up with his energy. "This is stupid, why are we even continuing this?"

You questioned him even though you were starting to get the hang of it.

To which dazai only chuckled "But.. "

"I set fire to the rain! And i wanna watch it burn on your face!!"

He shouted out loud with his caramel voice echoing the hidden moon and skies. Such a soothing and melodic voice...

He twirled you around round and round, brought you close to his cold body and spun you again, clasped your hands and let them go only to bring it back.

The street lights flickered the weather only turning darker and gloomier but the thunders didn`t bother the two lovers dancing crazily in the middle of the road.

You only heaved a sigh as you put your whole energy on your steps and danced with him.

A dance under the rain wasn`t so bad after all especially one with your boyfriend.

A/N: if this flops i am going down the stairs like the piano :/

Divider crds!: @plutism

Tag!: +@riiwritesz @elizais @biscuits-spooky-corner @silverbladexyz @darling--angst-archived @saelique @ruanais @chuuyasboner @tojifile @yosanosboner @lanterndove @extemporeies @atlasnessie @heartsfourdazai

[siberat]

Dinner Date

Part 6

The flavorful noodles filled his mouth with warm delights, then moved down to warm his belly. As soon as the food was swallowed, another bite was waiting, as well as a loving expression from Wi.ng. It was hard to choose which filled his frame more: the food or his date’s admiration.

 While a new experience, Bra.wl couldn’t say he objected. Having his date feed him felt rather lovely- this was indeed pampering! Being encouraged to consume his meal and thoroughly enjoy it while sitting back felt like royalty. And let’s face it, when had anyone ever made him feel like this?

“You’re doing so well, baby.” Wi.ng smiled and scooted his chair closer.

“Well, eating really isn’t challenging, as you can see.” His servos patted his belly like a drum… was there more blush forming on the flier’s cheeks?

“How’s this belly of yours doing?” In a gentle motion, W.ing’s servo reached out, gently rubbing the back of his fingers against the swollen sides of the large belly.

The ‘Co.n stifled a laugh. The touch was soft and gentle but also tickled. “Ah hah! So far so good!”

“That’s good.” A deep breath was sucked in, then exhaled. Sadly, the touch vanished.

Yes, those cheeks were flushed; there was no denying it.

The next mouthful was chewed as he processed this information. Was Wi.ng into bigger mechs? Earlier, the tank swore quick glances at his plumped midsection were stolen but were brushed off. While enjoying each other’s company at the bar, the flier always ordered snacks to be set in front of them that were only gobbled up by him. The choice of their first date consisting of an extravagant dining experience could be a giveaway. Still, he wasn’t sure, even with the hand feeding and that prior stolen touch.

But there were ways to find out.

“Hmmmmm.” Bra.wl hummed, closing his optics as his mouth wrapped around the next forkful. As he chewed, his servos rubbed over his belly. A show was put on of circling those servos and gently pressing his digits into the squishy protomesh. Yes, he opted long ago for plating removal to make room for his expanding gut. When the plumped mech opened his optics, he caught the jet ogling his tummy. “This is soooo delicious.”

“Well, e-“ Wi.ng cleared his throat. “Eat up. You’re almost done.”

“Dunno if it’ll all fit.” That belly was jiggled, sending ripples through the soft love handles on the side while the tight crest shifted in the movement. “What do you think?”

“I think you can handle this.” The fork dipped into the remaining noodles.

“Really?” Bra.wl tilted his helm to the side and squeezed his gut. “Feels kinda full…”

“Looks kind of full, sweetspark.” Wi.ng smiled and fed another mouthful. However, his optics drifted over the beach-ball-sized belly before returning to twirling.

“Hmmm Mhhhhhh.” Once again, those servos traveled over his belly, and the jet couldn’t help but stare. Once swallowed, the tank released a contented sigh. “Ooofff…. I have my doubts.” Said belly was patted.

“You only have a little bit more to go.” While still encouraging, the voice strained with hints of shaky gasps.

Prim.us, just what did he have to do to get the flier’s hands to grope his belly? Did Wi.ng have nerves of steel? Yet another mouthful was offered, chewed, and swallowed. But less optic contact was being made. Cheeks flushed as breathing rates increased. But the routine continued.

“Wing…” Bra.wl whined. “I’m stuffed to the brim!”

“But you’re almost finished-“

“Check for yourself, then.” His date paused. His gaze focused on that belly, his tongue licking his lip before gently nibbling on it. “I don’t think I can eat another bite!”

Only then did that hand slowly reach out and ghost over the girthy belly. The sensation was soft at first but intensified as the exploration continued. Curves were caressed as rolls pinched. The touch felt pleasant, seductive, and enticing.

Then, his belly growled loudly.

And Wi.ng’s engines loudly rumbled, then stalled.

The hand quickly retreated as if it were shocked, leaving its owner lightly gasping for breath. With widened optics, Wi.ng gave a sheepish smile. “You….” He shook his helm. “You scoundrel.” The fork was picked up, resuming twirling the last of the spaghetti.

“What?” Bra.wl chuckled. “Like what a see?”

Wi.ng only smiled, focusing on feeding the rest of the dish. “You… you gonna get us in trouble.”

“Do you like stuffing my belly so full?”

The whirl of cooling fans clicked on, pushing out warm air. A servo covered his mouth as Wi.ng closed his optics in concentration. A few deep, shaky breaths were taken before regaining control. Only then did the flier open his optics, playfully wagging a finger at the other. “You’re bad, Bra.wl. You know that, right?”

The ‘Co.n winked and smiled and he polished off the last of his favorite dish

Master post

[sevi007]

Tales of the Abyss part 53

You would think that after more than 50 parts on this, I would not automatically try to type "Tales of Abyss" each time but alas here we are, and I never learn

*cough cough* Tsundere *cough cough* Eh, wait a sec, how does Ion contact Asch anyway? We didn't even know where he was off to this time.

And off he goes again, explaining nothing!

It's like he's trying to catch a fly and pulls out a bazooka.

Funny, because if you first see his plans and preparations, it looks very long-planned, detailed, carefully thought out. And then Jade Curtiss comes in with the verbal steel chair and calls it "oversimplyfied".

At Van:

Let's go back in there and beat Van up.

Nonono see, in Van's eyes, Luke has served his purpose (destroyed Akzeriuth, so Asch didn't have to, so Asch wouldn't fulfill the prophecy and die) but here comes to kicker which neither Van nor Luke are able to see: Luke is more than that assigned purpose. He is AT LEAST as strong as Asch - or has the potential to be - not to mention he can grow from here on out, and is free of the Score, and Van is not even paying ATTENTION to him. He should, though. He should pay very close attention, cuz in the end, it does look like Van has created his own worst enemy. He has doubled Lorelei's scion, created someone who is not in the Score and thus not predictable, and he doesn't even realize it. Van's an idiot. Period.

Oh and somebody should tell that to Luke cuz my boy is struggling.

Where's the immediate "no you're not"? I know it won't magically cure him, but keep. Telling. Him. A thousand, a hundred thousand times. Maybe it will get through.

When in doubt, go with "the enemy of my enemy is my friend".

Excuse me while I LAUGH. You mean like - Jade? Tear? Guy? Yourself before your haircut? This is the entire theme of this game! Don't make me rant about it again.

Luke's a seven year old who is insecure about his standing since he is a replica Asch is a teenager who had his whole life taken over by said replica and feels uncomfortable looking at Luke now because of it all . That's not gonna HAPPEN Mieu, at least not yet.

Note the past tense!

Actually, yeah? Revenge on House Fabre and Revenge on the Entire Planet are kind of two things. No wonder he opted out.

Chortling again. You're probably the most suspicious person here, "Necromancer"

I'm not even taking Jade fully serious here. He's just being a bastard man again XD

Can I just butt in here to say - both Luke and Natalia have been burned badly, getting betrayed and / or rejected by people they trusted, loved, looked up to (Van, King Ingobert). All of that very recently. If anyone here had a reason to be distrustful, it would be them but they are the first ones to say they trust Guy still. That's not naivete, that's strength of heart.

And to be a bastard.

Luke's main strength is his belief in people. They would all feel TERRIBLE for betraying him, so they don't. HAH.

Oh well, now we let Asch wait. Again. Heh. @ahsokaisawesome

@magicmetslogic

[reydeyflummyx759z]

Saving Your Breath

(Ft. MODERN! Foscarina and Adalet)

The lights of New York City just went off for the night. The petrichor from the afternoon rain smelled strong. Sheriff Foscarina Alberighi looked at the last documents of a missing person's case for the night. Sheriff Jaeger Hannes was going to take over for the 3rd shift, and Foscarina felt like hugging the man right there. She planned a date with her wife, Adalet. Knowing Adalet, she was probably still looking at Indeed job postings... or just drinking her favorite wine without a care in the world and pretending to care.

Either way, the werewolf wanted to get out before the full moon. The New York pollen was high today, and Foscarina's nose knew it. Foscarina grabbed a wad of tissues, blowing her itching nose, determined to at least keep the growing tickle at bay. She then heard a gruff voice behind her. "Sheriff Alberighi?"

"Oh, mi scusi... Yes, Foster?" Foscarina was still addressing her subordinates by their last name even after 20 years on the police force. Granted, Logan Foster was a new guy on the block, and trust was to be earned in these halls. "I would like for you to investigate a robbery at the BP at 3355 Broadway. Can you do that?"

Logan straightened up his pants, clearly eager to do the job. "Sure thing. I'll ride along with Gordman." Yes... Elise Gordman, the girl he was trying to impress... why else would Logan want to go with Elise?

"Actually," Foscarina hummed, knowing well what Logan was going to do. "Do you mind if you ride along with Sheriff Hannes? He has better intel about the sudden illnesses around that area."

"Really?" Logan's blue eyes lit up with joy, but he quickly pressed down his excitement. "Will do, Sheriff Alberighi." And with that, the young recruit walked off, leaving Foscarina alone for the briefest of moments.

"Are you ready, Foster?" Jaeger's German accent cut through the air. "I better not catch you slacking like you did with Gordman." Logan's expression wavered at the mention of last night's investigation involving a young adult stealing $4,000 from Target as an employee. Logan remembered being unfocused on anything but Elise's curves and body. As pretty as she was, he missed a good chunk of that assignment.

Knowing the consequences, Logan straightened himself. "Of course..." With that, the two gentlemen walked from the precinct and into the awaiting squad car of the New York Metropolitan Police Department.

Foscarina stood up from the uncomfortable chair, stretching her back. Suddenly, the tickle she was fighting to keep away grew stronger and stronger. Her Italian nose quivered and crinkled until she had to do the inevitable. Her itchy nostrils flared wildly...

"-hEH! Hheh'USCHHHuh! -hIIH! AUSCHHHiuh! HAUSCHHH-uhh! Hah... ehhh... ih-HHIIH!! AUSCHHH'iuu!" Foscarina sneezed into the crook of her elbow, careful not to spray the reports. The werewolf sniffed loudly, her nostrils widening at the force. Steeling herself, Foscarina brought the tissues to her face, blowing elegantly into it.

It was then that Foscarina turned off the lights of her office before heading home to her wife. On the walk to her Buick, she got a phone call from Adalet, who she expected to be knee-deep in job applications. When she put the phone to her ear, she regretted it. The sound of foul gangster rap - which Foscarina warned Adalet about - blared through the receiver. The werewolf flinched at the sound of Adalet frantically turning off the radio. "Oi, babe! How ya doin'?" Adalet's attempt at suavity fell through.

Foscarina pinched the bridge of her still twitching nose. "Non dirmelo..." Foscarina shook her head in exasperation. "Were you looking for a job or drinking my expensive sangria while listening to Tupac?"

Tupac's voice got cut off abruptly, followed by Adalet eating some sushi. At the last gulp, Adalet cleared her throat, "I found fifty jobs, babe!"

"Fifty jobs for what, cara mia?" Foscarina's glare could have frozen an ocean. "I will not come to my house in disarray again."

Adalet's sheepish reply wavered through, "Okaaaay, 30?"

Silence.

"Okay, I snagged three interviews, but I only applied to ten!" Adalet grumbled, "'Sides, what time are ya gettin' here? I'm starvin'!" Her Turkish accent was as strong as ever.

"Adalet, darling, please don't test my patiehh--" Foscarina pinched her nostrils shut, trying to delay the sneeze. "Dohh..."

"Lemme guess... hay fever's kickin' your arse, yeah?" Adalet sighed through the receiver, almost to where Foscarina deflated in sympathy. "I can tell when you're gonna let loose."

"That's uncouth--,"

"Sneeze, darling. You'll feel better."

Foscarina tried to protest once more, but her nose answered for her. "hh-HAUSCHHiuh! ESCHHiuh! Htt'SCHHHiuh! Hah'UZCHHiuh!" The sneezes spritzed the air outside. Once she climbed into her Buick, Foscarina sneezed again. "HhAUUSCHHihh!"

"Bless, bless, darling." Adalet purred, "I'll be waitin' for y.... you..."

"Salute." Foscarina's stuffy voice blessed Adalet in Italian.

"Ah, it's not aahhH-- ArRRRDZCHH'hheyehh!" Adalet's own sneeze blurted through the receiver. "Oookay, I'm not sick, Foz. I--,"

"... had too much to drink." Foscarina pressed the start button of her Buick, the engine turning over with precision. "Addie, what did I tell you about drinking too much?"

Adalet blew her nose, cleared her throat, and came back. "It makes me feel good!" Adalet protested, "I can't just dive into a sea of job applications!"

"Adalet, get cleaned up, throw everything out, and get dressed. I'll change out of my uniform, and we'll go to Red Lobster." Foscarina drove through the rain-misted streets, occasionally stopping for the heavy traffic. "We'll discuss your drinking later."

"Fiiiiiiine..." Adalet pouted, "But you're definitely gonna have to get me some crab!"

"That's a plan, cara mia." With that, Foscarina hung up and pulled into the garage of their home, where Adalet was waiting for her with a glass of water. The dullahan looked tired as hell, apparently exhausted from the series of unfortunate events.

Adalet handed Foscarina the glass of water. It took Foscarina ten seconds to notice that Adalet's hair was in a bun and she wore a blue Chinese dress. "See? I can act accordingly."

"Only when I call to see what you're doing." Foscarina's werewolf senses picked up the fact that Adalet still smelled like wine and Tupac was still playing. "Besides... my ahh... aaAAH-CHHSHHihh! Allergies are killing me."

Adalet placed some Zyrtec in Foscarina's hand. "Of course, they are~" Adalet coughed lightly. "Trust me, I didn't lose my head looking for jobs... HADDZCHHH'haayy!!" The dullahan sneezed so hard that her head nearly fell off her neck.

"Salute." Foscarina wearily blessed her wife for the fifth time today. "Addie, have you given to your phylactery? Or are you getting sick?"

"I gave to the 'lactery." She let out a wet sniffle. "Might be catching a cold, all this time I've spent in the fuckin' rain."

Foscarina's light brown eyes looked with disdain, "Adalet... you need to take care of yourself. Your body is your--,"

"I know, I know..." Adalet shook it off, her single blue eye glittering. "'Your body is your temple,' yadda, yadda, yadda..." Adalet cleared her throat, which sounded like a cat hacking up a hairball.

Then, Foscarina had an idea. "How about we order takeout? We can have a date night at the house."

"Sounds good to me..." Adalet smiled.

[the-radio-demon-blog]

Yes, I’ll have it done quickly. (Turns around, walking away, the beginning of a plan forming in their mind.)

a little while later

(They’re dragging a rather terrible looking Valentino behind them. He is unconscious. He is covered in his own blood, his good antenna shredded. His wings are torn and he is bruised, broken, and bleeding. He is an a more than severe state. They stop in front of the radio tower.)

This should be the place…I assume. Would he want be barging in? (After much contemplation, they decide to wait outside.)

Wonder why he asked for Valentino…he did say it was a test…but why him?…he is the most useless of the Vees…I mean…he can fight…put up a good one when I got to him…

(They stare at their own wounds. They have their fair share of bruises and cuts. There is a tear in their shirt, in the shoulder area. There’s even a bullet wound on their bicep. They brush their hand against it, hissing in pain.)

Fucking angelic steel…wonder how long this’ll take to heal…what even will my next task be…will I even get one…I hope I passed the test…hope he doesn’t kill me…

(Valentino lets out a groan, beginning to shuffle. They perk up, grabbing a rock from the ground. They bash it against Valentino’s head, knocking him unconscious. As they drop the rock, a sudden thought occurs to them.)

Did he even want me to come here…does he know I’m here…wonder if I’m gonna die a few hours into my soul being owned by him…I hope this pleases him as much as it pleases me to fight Valentino…

Fuck, who am I kidding? Compared to his work, this is fucking shit!

(They continue to wait for The Radio Demon, hoping they are in the right place and they won’t die.)

-Dunno

"I can hear you shuffling outside my door, dear! Come in!" Alastor's voice seems to echo in your ears. The door to his Radio Tower swings open revealing a rather desecrated interior. A place that seems rather unsuitable for a Radio Show.

Alastor is sitting in his chair, his spindly fingers clinking the "Off Air" button as he spins around and shoots up to his feet. His eyes widen in delight as he sees you dragging the unconscious Valentino into his Radio Tower.

"My, my, my! What do we have here? You swatted him around quite a lot didn't you? Hah!" Alastor tilts the drooping head of Valentino up. He looks at you and droops the head suddenly as it hits the floor. "I must ask you. How did you manage to break into the Vee Tower and successfully capture an Overlord? That's no small feat!"

He twirls his Radio cane in his hand as he studies you, "You may be more useful than I previous thought."

Previous post:

[harpershigh]

"no proper rest may actually prove fatal at your old age, harper. and i can't have you die on me before this bloody cult is dealt with. so i ask you nicely to get some sleep, or i'll have to drown you with sleep potions one way or another. " - nine fingers

[hii, i hope this is okay, i had to send something!]

Jaheira rubbed at her eyes, fingers pressing against the sockets like she could rub away the burn, the weight, the exhaustion pressing down on her skull. But there was no time for that. No time for sleep, no time for rest. The hag was still out there, slithering through the city's cracks, and Jaheira was already late.

Her mind was sharp — had to be sharp. But her body lagged behind, slow, stiff, a half-second delay between thought and action. She wouldn’t admit it. Refused to admit it. What would she even do with the truth? Lay down and sleep while another child disappeared?

No.

Her jaw clenched as she poured over the evidence again, pages blurring for the briefest moment before she forced her focus back. The girl’s face haunted the ink, the memory of her frozen in time — too young, too small. The same age as Fig.

Jaheira’s breath hitched, and she shoved the thought away with a violent shake of her head. No. Not Fig. But it could have been. It could be if she didn’t end this.

Her heart pounded like a war drum. The hag was slipping away, vanishing into the night, and if Jaheira didn’t act now, she would do what she always did — find another child to steal.

A sudden voice made her to push back from the table, standing so fast her chair nearly toppled.

Astele.

Always Astele.

Jaheira's gaze fixed on her, eyes bloodshot, patience stretched thin as a fraying rope due to the nights spent awake. “Don’t you dare.” The words came sharp as a dagger’s edge, her voice rough from too many hours spent inquiring, planning, running. Sleep was a luxury she couldn't afford, and damn anyone who thought otherwise.

But then — gods — she actually heard what Nine-Fingers had said, and despite the tension pulling her shoulders taut, a faint, tired smirk flickered across her face. “Tch. My old age? Hah! I’m still sharper than half your crew even half-dead on my feet.”

Not an apology. Not even close. And the humour also fell flat. Jaheira cursed herself for it, and for the misplaced sharpness of her tongue, but she had no time to soften words.

“I've already checked the sewers under Bloomridge — nothing, but she left traces, just enough to taunt. The docks? Bribed a few dockworkers, found a crate matching her trade, but it was emptied before we got there. A trail leading nowhere. Which means she’s smart, but not invincible.” She exhaled sharply, rubbing at her temples, willing herself to think faster. Stay focused. “Still need to check the apothecaries — if she’s been gathering ingredients, someone’s sold them to her. Then the smugglers — she’s moving fast, so she’s got to have passage arranged, and I’ll be damned if I let her slip out of the city unnoticed. And if none of that turns anything up?” She squared her shoulders, steeling herself against the leaden weight of exhaustion. “Then I burn down every last rat hole she might be hiding in until I find her.”

Her eyes locked onto Astele’s, a silent challenge. Sleep could wait. The hag's victims could not. And she was running out of time.

[highwayphantoms]

hiii, happy dadwc! for oriana and cyren, maybeee “I’m pretty sure that’s not your job.”?

This ended up going in a spoilery and non-canon-compliant direction so.... oh well 😂 no regerts.

Veilguard fic for @dadrunkwriting

Words: 831 Warnings: Mention of canonical character death, endgame Veilguard spoilers

-

Part of her had hoped to never step through an eluvian again. Another part of her had wanted nothing more than to see the Crossroads once more. But now that she had passed through an eluvian and walked the Crossroads to reach Minrathous and meet the young man who’d wound up at the head of the fight to stop Solas before he brought ruin to all of Thedas… well. She felt bad for him. He was about the same age she’d been when she’d first gone south across the Waking Sea—and one blighted magister was not nearly as dangerous as two blighted gods.

She was still trying to wrap her head around that one. It shouldn’t be so hard, not when she knew who Solas really was, what he was truly capable of—yet it seemed so unreal.

Worse, it felt like the whole mess was her own fault. She might have been able to stop Solas before he began, if she’d paid closer attention. If she’d been there, Varric might have survived to tell the tale like only he could do.

“Ori, stop,” Cyren said, fixing her with a stern look. The last seven years had taken their toll on both of them: his hair was now fully silver and the lines on his face were growing deeper, while her dark curls were now streaked through with steel. Still, for all the upheaval and general chaos, she could tell Minrathous had been good to him. Better than she might have hoped, for certain.

She frowned back at him, taking a deliberate sip of her tea before she replied, “Stop what?”

“I saw the way you looked at Rook. You don’t think he’s up to the task.”

“I don’t think anyone is,” she countered. “This is an impossible fight. You can’t tell me you don’t see that.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Far be it from me to tell you what to do—”

“Hah.”

“—but you’re too close to this. Varric was right to find someone that Solas didn’t know anything about.”

“Right, because that worked so well for him,” she said, sourly. In those first days in Haven, when she’d been alone and hurting, Varric had been a friendly face amongst a sea of shems. Someone who treated her like a person, rather than a threat or a prophet or whatever else they’d gotten into their heads. To know that he had died at the hands of the other person who’d been kind to her in those early days was… It was difficult. How could the same man who’d saved her life so many times been so quick to cut down someone who’d called him friend?

“Varric knew the risks,” Cyren said gently. “Besides, you have your hands full in the south, don’t you?”

Oriana shrugged helplessly. “Hawke and Mahariel have things under control. For now, at least. I’m just getting in their way, if I’m honest.”

“I very much doubt that,” he replied.

“I would be more useful to Rook than I am to them,” she said firmly. “I knew Solas better than Varric or Harding ever did.”

He sighed and folded his hands together in his lap. After a moment or two, Cyren said, “I am pretty sure that’s not what Rook meant when he asked for any help you could give.”

“I have to do this.”

“No, you don’t. Ori, you’ll just get yourself killed. I refuse to just stand back and watch that happen.”

“Might I suggest a compromise?” Morrigan said. Neither of them had noticed her approach; the last Oriana had known, she’d been lingering by the front door to ensure no one slipped in. “One of Hawke’s companions is also in possession of an eluvian. If I were to give you the key to this eluvian, you might pass freely between Kirkwall and the Crossroads.”

Oriana paused to consider this, while Cyren said, “I fail to see how that is a compromise.”

Morrigan smiled wryly. “None of us shall be spared should the Evanuris succeed in their plans. The Crossroads provide an escape route.”

“And what would you want in exchange?” Oriana finally asked.

“A small favor,” Morrigan said. “I imagine you recall my son, Kieran.”

“He is… difficult to forget,” Oriana remarked. A strange little boy with strange dark eyes that saw far too much. After a moment, she realized—he’d be a young adult now. No doubt he was taller than she was now.

“He is in Amaranthine, with the Wardens. I did not dare bring him here, where he might draw the attention of the Evanuris. If you would check in on him from time to time for me… I would appreciate it.”

“For the record, I still think you’re better off staying as far away from all of this as you can, Ori.”

She offered Cyren a small smile. “I know.” Then glancing back at Morrigan, she nodded and said, “I can do that. Thank you.”

[harrowharks-iliac-crest]

50: 30 minutes before the Emperor's murder

Second skull - whole.

We're back to Gideon's perspective, about to meet the Emperor, and ... about to witness the Emperor meet his end - possibly about to BE the Emperor's end. Let's see how this unfolds.

In the room was Cytherea. Cytherea’s body, her back to us. She had been neatly tied to a chair with a band of angry-looking tendon.

Cytherea! ....... ON The steel chair!!

Hah, sorry, I couldn't resist.

Did Mercy get to her? If the angry tendons are an indication, then probably yes.

“Commander Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead,” he said. “All of it.” “I can’t believe you feel like you’re in position to demand things of me.” “All of it, Gaius!” There was the preparatory sound of indrawn breath. “Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead Kia Hua Ko Te Pai Snap Back to Reality Oops There Goes Gravity,” he recited, all in one breath. “Correct?”

Lmao that's one hell of a name. I would love to have "Oops there goes gravity" as part of my name.

Maybe I can I've changed my name before its not like its hard

Anyway - Cytherea - Cytherea' body is being possessed, haunted, whatever you wanna call it. She's ... probably ... still dead.

The commander? The same commander as the one who died drifting down to the Ninth with baby Gideon? The same commander who's been haunting Harrow as The Sleeper? That commander??????

He said, “Blood of Eden died with you, Wake. Any further action is just agonal breathing.” “We both know that’s not true.” “You never would have fired nukes into my fleet.”

Okay, but Blood of Eden are still very much kicking, and they very much did fire nukes into his fleet. Didn't they do that at the start of the book? Eighteen thousand dead or something like that??

“You’ve been a revenant for nearly twenty years, Wake. It’s extraordinary … You really are everything they said you were.” Silence. “You’re not a necromancer—” “Necromancy is a disease you released,” she said. “Necromancy needs to be strategically and deliberately cleansed.”

She IS that same commander - Gideon Nav's mother - and her, and the Blood of Eden, are on some kind of ideological quest against necromancy itself.

You tell me the thanergy link you rode to get here, because you certainly weren’t in Cytherea’s body back at Canaan House,

The sword that killed Cytherea, the one Harrow has been holding on to this entire time.

It's a tenuous link, but probably enough. The commander's daughter's sword, in the hands of the commander's daughter's kismesis necromancer adept sorry for using a homestuck word it just fits okay.

Alternatively, if it's not the sword, it's Harrow's body, holding the soul of Gideon Nav, the commander's daughter herself.

Could it be that Gideon Nav didn't die as a child because she was being used as a thalergetic/thanergetic link? Can living bodies do that? Her mother seems to have been powerful in life, and is still powerful in death as a revenant, so I can't rule it out.

“Mercymorn the First, Augustine the First, meet Commander Wake Me Up Inside, sincerest apologies if I got that wrong,” said the Emperor. “Wake —Mercy—Augustine.” “Oh, we’ve met,” said the corpse, with immense satisfaction.

Cahoots! Cahoots I say.

Commander wake me up inside 🤣 (save me!!!!)

They're confronting God, for something - that's taken ten thousand years to uncover, apparently.

The plot thickens.

“They were working for me,” said the dead Commander. Mercymorn demanded, “Are you flattering yourself, or being wrong on purpose?” The other Lyctor interrupted, “Joy—” but she was saying, wildly: “Oh, let it happen! If this is happening, let it happen … We had a deal, Wake! Where the hell have you been hiding for nineteen years?” “Where—you—fucking—left—me,” she ground out. “In my bones. Then a blade. In—that—fucking—hole.”

The sword, then. "That fucking hole" presumably being the Ninth house.

The corpse was grim. “I came armed.” “It doesn’t matter what you came armed with, Commander—” “I had the baby,” said Wake. “The baby I’d had to incubate myself for nine long fucking months, when the foetal dummies these two gave me died.” “Oh, God, it was yours,” said Augustine, in horror. “I thought you’d used in vitro on one of Mercy’s—” “I said they all died,” said Wake.

Oh my god!!!!

The eggs you gave me all died and you lied to me!!!!!!!!!!

She's behind all of the messages that Harrow thought she hallucinated!!!!!! THIS is what they meant!! They weren't for or about Harrow - they were for Augustine and Mercymorn!!!!

“Okay. Let’s get this straight,” God was saying. “You brought a baby—a baby you’d made inside yourself, well done, that’s the classic—so you could, what, kill it and create a huge thanergy cascade at the door? I wish Harrowhark were here; it would do her good to know there are more people in the world with an imagination like her parents’

So that was the plan - to kill baby Gideon and breach the locked tomb - but it didn't work - because Commander Wake (me up inside) died before she could reach the Ninth?

The woman I was pretty sure was actually my mother—wearing the body of a woman I’d had a crush on, who in turn had been wearing the identity of a woman she’d murdered, until I fell on a spike so that my boss could kill her—craned her head around in her bonds.

An absolutely WILD situation to be in, admittedly. Imagine being completely mystified with your origins all your life, and then finding out, after your death, like THIS.

“I think you’re skipping ahead in the story,” said God. “I think you’re glossing over a part … because you think it doesn’t matter? Are you embarrassed? Gideon, were you aware that, when you let Commander Wake get as far as she did—to the House of the Ninth, to one of our own Houses, our own people—that she was pregnant?” A pause. “I was aware,” said Gideon Classic. “Why the hell did you not tell me?” “Because I thought it was—mine.”

Ohhhhhhhhh. The plot thickens FURTHER. Gideon Nav's father possibly confirmed to be Gideon the First???????

(I'm not ignoring the "I thought" and all of the everything Commander Wake just said, meaning it could very much be not true, but still -)

“You never kept it secret from us. I always thought it was a little over the top, Teacher … you were always so fussy about never bleeding … but Cassiopeia told me a very interesting thing about blood wards, once. She always said that they should really be called cell wards, because they work off thalergetic enzymes … which can be spoofed with a substantial thanergy burst and the blood of a close relative. A parent. A child.” The Emperor said, as though speaking to a kid: “And how would you ever—” and stopped. [...] “But it was only—” “The once? Yes, one evening planned down to the ground for five hundred years,” said the Saint of Patience.

Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy shit!!!!!!!!

Gideon Nav's father almost definitely confirmed to be THE EMPEROR??????

THIS was the purpose of the sexy parties???? LMAO?????????

“I’m—” I said. The world revolved. “I’m not fucking dead,” I said, which wasn’t even true, [...] “Hi, Not Fucking Dead,” he said. “I’m Dad.”

CUT!!!!!!!! FIREWORKS PLEASE OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!

That was the single best way to end that chapter ghholy fuck.

I learned WAY more than I bargaiend for in this chapter holy fucdk¬!!!!!!!!!!!

HOLY FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!