#he can be regal and badass

[dailygale]

I like that there seems to be two ways people dress up their Gale:

Gale Dekarios, resplendent wizard extraordinaire; most regal and impressive weaver of magic in all the Sword Coast.

Gale Dekarios, man of the land, ready to roll up his sleeves and wash some fucking dishes.

He is a many of many layers. A roast onion, if you will.

An archmage in the streets,

a malewife in the sheets

(er. or something to that effect. you get where i'm going)

[bruciemilf]

So glad you clarified that "Alfred bleeding out at brucie's day party" was step 1 in becoming pennywaynes. I was just about to ask lol

Also thinking that Alfred doesn't say "fuck" because Thomas says it enough for both of them. And how they're both feral in opposite directions (loud and vulgar vs poised and eloquent) makes me wonder what direction Martha is feral in. Exceedingly painfully viciously polite? Barefoot in the dirt, she'd love poison ivy fae-tinged feral? Does this make sense? I'm sick. All I can think about is Thomas and Alfred preparing to carve someone up and you don't even know who you are supposed to be more scared of

I like to imagine Martha as Morticia Addams feral. Regal, majestic, peculiar, and could wipe the floor with your self-esteem in a minute if crossed. Bruce’s mama was a silent badass for sure.

I like to think Damian inherited her affection for animals! Hers pets were just more… Unique, let’s say.

Imagine you’re Alfred. You’ve been working at the Wayne manor for about two weeks now.

Thomas, your husband boss hands you a huge chunk of bloody meat hanging from a butcher hook, while yelling violently at a business partner on the phone.

“Al, go feed Bruce, will ya?”

“?????????????”

Bruce gently grabs Alfred’s hand (Alfred has to tilt down) and he’s taken to the pool area.

There’s a big ass tank.

There’s a big ass, 20 foot long, great white shark in that tank. Bruce hugs the glass. Alfred may or may not pass out. Martha gently takes Bruce in her arms, kindly asks Alfred to clean the floors, and vanishes in the shadows.

She also has an albino ball python that Bruce adores. Occasionally, she wears him as a scarf. Alfred is severely loving and regretting his life choices.

[patheticgirlsteve]

This is easily the most inconvenient moment possible for Eddie to have a hard-on and yet, here he is, standing in the remains of what used to be the Hawkins Public Library with his dick hard as a rock in his pants.

Eddie had heard tell of a nailbat, rumors of Steve Harrington’s weapon of choice in dealing with matters related to the Upside Down, but it had seemed mythical to him. The way the boys talked about Steve wielding it made him sound like a hero from some ancient mythology.

“You should have seen him, Eddie,” Dustin would grip Eddie’s arm with a grasp that hurt as he regaled Eddie with the tale of Steve in the Junkyard Fighting the Demodogs once more. “He was such a badass, like, so insanely cool!”

Eddie is deeply glad that he was not present at that battle, but there is a part of him that wishes he could have seen it. That he could have seen Steve wield the suburban equivalent of a mace while trying to defend his brood of strange children.

Not that Eddie would ever admit that, of course. He and Steve are tentative friends, and Eddie is not going to risk what progress he and Steve have made in maintaining a civil relationship just because he thinks the guy is hot. Of course he thinks Steve is hot, so does every other breathing human in Hawkins, Indiana.

So, yeah, Eddie is keeping that piece of information to himself. Taking it to his grave. Besides, they’re in the middle of an apocalypse and now is hardly the time for getting horny over Steve Harrington proving competence with a blunt instrument.

But apparently Eddie’s dick never got that memo. Because he’s standing here watching Steve knock those goddamn fucking demobats out of the spore infested Hawkins sky with his infamous bat, dripping with blood and snarling at the monsters. He swings with a terrifying rage in his eyes, laser focused on removing each and every single bat from the sky with a sort of feral grace that shouldn’t be possible.

Eddie watches, pants uncomfortably tight, as Steve makes one final swing at the last bat standing (flying?) with a flourish of his wrist, giving the nailbat a little twirl before using it to strike the last creature down.

Steve Harrington is absolutely unreal.

He turns around to face Eddie and Eddie is reminded that, oh yeah, they’re in the middle of a massive battle right now and he had maybe let himself get a little distracted and wow, the blood dripping through Steve’s chest hair as he tosses the nailbat onto his shoulder with practiceed ease is really doing it for Eddie, which would be fine (well, not fine, but at least somewhat manageable) if it were literally any other moment in time.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks Eddie, voice hoarse and raspy in a way that really shouldn’t be sexy because it’s probably caused by Steve breathing spores and demobat guts or something else equally horrifying, but it is hot and there is something deeply wrong with Eddie.

And maybe there is some single solitary shred of mercy left remaining in the universe, because Steve is seemingly too focused on the war waging around them to clock the bulge in Eddie’s pants.

“Yup!” Eddie nods, feeling like a bobble head in his enthusiasm. “Great! Feeling great! Never better!”

Steve gives him an odd look, considering, but seems to accept Eddie’s assertion that he’s unharmed. He probably just attributes the strange behavior to Eddie’s general weirdness, which is perfectly fine with Eddie.

“Good,” Steve’s eyes drift to the steadily growing dark cloud that obscures much of the red sky. “Let’s get moving then.”

He stomps past Eddie, clapping him on the shoulder as he passes. Eddie closes his eyes and scrapes the corners of his mind for the least sexy thoughts he can summon to will his boner away.

“You coming?” Steve calls back from a few yards behind Eddie.

“Right behind you, big boy,” Eddie says. He takes a deep breath in and out before turning to follow Steve back into the fray.

[altocat]

The Silver Elite club is so creepy actually. The fan clubs for Genesis and Angeal share basic information about Angeal loving plants and cooking or Genesis having a history with Loveless.

But Silver Elite takes it to another level. The information is uncomfortably private. Sephiroth sneaking into the training room with his friends was supposed to be a secret, but Hojo exposed it anyway. Yet in the same newsletter he writes about how Sephiroth valued his privacy. Great.

Then for Hojo to share something as personal as what Sephiroth used to clean his “long beautiful hair” is absolutely repulsive and disgusting. All that fan club did was expose how obsessed Hojo was with Sephiroth and how closely he monitored him all his life.

It's really eye-opening because Silver Elite is sorta played for laughs in CC, or at least meant to be kind of amusing because it's Sephiroth doing mundane Sephiroth things, only for you to realize in hindsight that it's actually a very deeply violating invasion of privacy. Sephiroth around CC era won't even LOOK at Hojo, much less speak to him. I refuse to believe he's giving Hojo any license to post all this private information without Shinra pressuring him into compliance.

People have expectations of Sephiroth. That he's this regal, dominant creature that is always in control, always above everyone else, always flawless and badass at everything he does. They know him as a villain, powerful, imposing, always two steps ahead of Cloud and crew, always smug and threatening and towering over the competition. Crisis Core (and First Soldier) paints a far grimmer picture as to the person Sane!Sephiroth really was pre-madness. He's actually very passive and subdued, dare I say submissive. He has his pride, yeah. And a level of authority over his men. He's definitely not someone you want to annoy or come to blows with. But in his private life within Shinra, he's actually very nonconfrontational and sort of bleakly resigned to everything.

Maybe the EC marketing was right when it suggested that the audience doesn't really KNOW Sephiroth. Because the way the real Sephiroth acts doesn't suggest dominance or power or autonomy of any kind. He's dealt a lot of daily Shinra bullshit and he just puts up with it. He does as he's told. He can be choosy about his missions and he might have a few more privileges than the average soldier. But his hands are just as tied as everyone else's. Maybe even more so because his guardians are allowed to exploit him for profit day after day just to drum up propaganda for new recruits.

[uriwoos2]

bnd as my favorite insects ! .⊹˚ ꒰͡ ͜ ི༏ ͜ ྀ͡꒱ˎˊ˗

does this count as headcanons? idk. anyway this is something I decided to do cuz I'm quite literally obsessed w insects of any kind (esp these ones) and also bcuz I currently lack any motivation to write :'( so here it is! <3 warnings: pictures and descriptions of insects. word count: 1.4k

disclaimer! … these insects are mostly uncommon and usually not perceived as cute bugs, unlike ladybugs and bumblebees and such. so note that they might not appeal to everyone, but I love and find them beautiful and adorable, hence why I decided to match them w bnd ! <3 also pls do let me know how u feel about these kinds of "headcanons" ^^ <3 hope you enjoy ! ♡ . . . @onedoornet

sungho ʚïɞ archispirostreptus gigas

— giant african millipede !

𐚁๋࣭⭑ the gentle giant! <3 these long boys have up to 300–400 little feet! the slow moving cuties are nocturnal and can be found minding their own business on the damp floor of the african rainforests. they love warm, dark places where they can curl up and hide easily. when it comes to defense, they aren't venomous and don't bite, instead they use their strong exoskeleton, that kind of acts like a body armor, to coil up into a ball and protect their softer belly. if this method doesn't work they might secrete a chemical concoction that deters all their predators. the coolest thing to me, is how each time they shed they add a single body segment, and four extra legs! ✩

𐚁๋࣭⭑ I think they remind me of sungho because of their overall vibe and temperament. millipedes have a strong, non-threatening exterior, just like sungho hehe. and they're just adorable little big boys <3 they mind their own business and do their job quietly and diligently! also the name gentle giant is so closely related to sungho that I can't help but match him with these guys! <3 I don't think there's anything else.. but thinking abt the resemblance between sungho and african millipedes makes me wanna cry... ( ᴗ ̫ ᴗ )♡ it's just so very cute please :((( <3

riwoo ʚïɞ phidippus regius

— regal jumping spider !

𐚁๋࣭⭑ the most prominent features of these spiders are their small bodies and sets of large black eyes that give them the cutest appearance <3 they have blueish–green jaws and three spots on their abdomen which resembles a smiling face! ^^ these little guys favour tropical regions and are mostly found in southeastern united states. jumping spiders do make nets but don't actually use them to hunt! they won't wait around for the prey to land on their webbing, but instead they will go seek them out themselves !! they are also venomous, and use it to hunt, or when they're feeling threatened. and of course, they love to jump! this useful skill comes in handy when hunting as well! they use a line of their silk as a tether, as it stabilizes their jumps and gives them direction. they have amazing eyesight and hearing! and the cutest thing of all, is that they dance to attract mates, the way that they sway their tiny bodies and wriggle their legs is the most adorable thing :( <3

𐚁๋࣭⭑ now why do these spideys remind me of sanghyeok? just like him, they're kinda small (hehe) but make up for it by being very flexible and active! ◟꒰◍ ´꒳` ◍꒱◞ they're super daring and very very courageous! they're both dancers and just silly little cuties, with beautiful eyes and I just can't help but melt at the sight of them :( their tiny jumps and cute dances remind me of riwoo especially when he's being silly >< it's the cutest thing <//3 and I can most definitely hold both riwoo and jumping spideys in the palm of my hand ^^ my tiny babies <3

jaehyun ʚïɞ allomyrina dichotoma

— kabutomushi or japanese rhinoceros beetle !

𐚁๋࣭⭑ "mushi" is japanese for insect, and "kabuto" - for helmet. the name directly refers to the samurai helmet, which just makes them super badass in my opinion! :D I love adore all stag beetles but these ones are super special to me, because of their unique Y shaped horns! it looks so so cool :( fun fact, this horn is used by males to lift other males off the ground and throw them into the air 😭😭 they're nocturnal and can be found in subtropical and tropical regions in eastern asia. kabutomushi are super popular in japanese culture, and have been a source of inspiration for lots and lots of things, like characters in media, advertisements and so on. they are not venomous and don't bite, but they will often engage in fights with e/o, as they are fierce and unbelievably strong!

𐚁๋࣭⭑ now why does jaehyun get the beetles. hmm.. I think he just gives me this vibe of being super tough and resilient and that's how these guys also tend to be! they're really firm and feisty, just like him! hehe. ૮ • ﻌ - ა myungjae definitely is the type to be super competitive and courageous! I admire these qualities in him, as they make him shine even brighter >< additionally, he is a very reliable leader, who I'm sure, is quite the inspiration for the rest of the members, someone who they look to for strength and encouragement! so yeah! myungjae kabutomushi confirmed !! <33

taesan ʚïɞ poecilotheria metallica

— gooty sapphire tarantula !

𐚁๋࣭⭑ my most beloved emo spideys are sadly critically endangered :( they're native to a small area in southeast india and are tree-dwelling in nature. their bright blue color helps with camouflaging among the leaves. these tarantulas require specific conditions in which they thrive and feel comfortable, as they're highly light-sensitive and prefer to live in humid places. they're not very territorial, and tend to be semisocial or solitary! they're super skittish and tend to get aggressive when they feel threatened. fun fact! they don't have the typical defense mechanism that other tarantulas possess, which is the urticating hairs, which makes them the most vulnerable tarantula species. however, they make up for this shortcoming by being super super fast!! and prefer to flee rather than bite, even though they're venomous.

𐚁๋࣭⭑ the reason I matched this spidey with dongmin is bcuz they're both emo in appearance (lol) and they love doing their thing in their own little space. they're both super quiet, peaceful and like to keep to themselves. and another reason, is that they're both just so unique! ૮₍˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶₎ა♡ and true to themselves! these tarantulas are unlike any other spider and I feel like that's how taesan also is, a super special and authentic person <3 I love these spiders and giant mountain with my whole entire heart !! <3

leehan ʚïɞ hymenopus coronatus

— orchid mantis !

𐚁๋࣭⭑ this beautiful dainty insect is also known as a living flower. their beautiful appearance doesn't only serve the purpose of being pretty, but it actually is a hunting strategy! this is called aggressive mimicry, when the insects blend in with the food they consume or their habitat, as they wait for prey. these mantises pretend to be flowers, their primary food source, which also successfully camouflages them from predators! they're quite rare and can only be found in southeast asian tropical forests. fun fact! hehe. their flower "cosplays" are so convincing that they tend to attract lots of bees ^^ despite their small size, they're one of the best predators, able to hunt prey that's much larger than them (including frogs and birds!!) they also bite, although they're not venomous.

𐚁๋࣭⭑ they are calm, patient insects that use their assets to their full potential in order to achieve their goals. very much like ihan if you ask me!! hehe >< I think the dainty, and delicate appearance of the mantis matches him so so well. and pairing that with their calm temperament and behaviour, it just fits perfectly! leehan isn't one to be startled easily or to overreact, he's pretty chill for the most part and is one of the most charming people I've ever seen! (୨୧ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) I think that sums it up quite well ! (although the fact that these insects are known as living flowers was reason enough for me to match them w ihan ^^)

woonhak ʚïɞ Phyllium siccifolium

— leaf insect !

𐚁๋࣭⭑ masters of camouflage! its appearance is honestly impeccable in replicating a leaf. they can be found in the tropical and subtropical climates, in several countries of asia. fun adorable fact! the newly hatched nymphs are reddish–brown and only become green after feeding on some leaves! how cute >< their leaf mimicry is so intricate, that sometimes they can have dark spots that resemble disease or damage! and the cutest thing is that they sway from side to side, to copy a leaf's movement in the wind. they're the biggest form of walking leaf and most of all, they're able to regenerate!! they are quite calm and docile, and move sluggishly, not to attract any predators. they remain still for the most part and tend to be solitary.

𐚁๋࣭⭑ I matched this cute insect to woonhak bcuz... idk I think it's just very adorable–looking overall and just gives me unagi vibes hehe^^ he's a cutie and the leaf bugs are also cuties, that's quite reasonable imo!! their bright appearance is super nice to look at and resembles how bright and lovely this baby is! (˃ ⌑ ˂ഃ ) ˎˊ˗ but also, my thought while matching him to these bugs was that he's very versatile and just easily adopts any and every concept, almost entirely flawlessly! he's just such a talented lil guy! leaf insects and woonhak are real good at flawlessly immersing themselves in a theme! and they're both just such cutie pies, ok? <3

[versusvirtuous]

Descendants Characters as Glee Quotes Part 2

Morgie: People think I went on vacation, but I actually spent the Summer lost in the sewers.

Queen of Hearts: You know there's only one person in this world who can tell you what you are

Red: Me

Queen of Hearts: No. Me. Queen of Hearts

Evie to Mal: I'm gonna say this as nice as I possibly can, but you look like a sad clown hooker.

Uma: I  just try to be really really honest with people but I think that they suck ya know

Ben to Audrey: YOU ARE A MENACE TO THE STATE OF AURADON

Hades: Look at me. Even in the heat of battle, I'm so elegant, regal. I am Ajax, mighty Greek warrior.

Uliana to Bridget: The English language lacks the requisite words to express just how much I dislike you

Red: Let me autocorrect that for you. I tried to break into the Wonderland zoo to get us live tigers but PLOT TWIST: Wonderland doesn't have a zoo! Why did we think it did?

Audrey: Who is more rock n roll than Justin Bieber? No one. That's who.

Hades, leaving the apartment with Maleficent's comforter and Hook's pillow at the break-up.

Maleficent: I'm pretty sure he just took my comforter

Hook: Bitch took my pillow

Red: Are we dating or what?

Chloe: Wait, isn't this a date? Aren't you paying? Cuz I ordered shrimp.

Jay: Are you questioning my badassness

Carlos: I'm Carlos De Vil and I'll be auditioning for the role of kicker

Evie: Mal, quit hogging the bathroom, I needs to re-pencil my eyebrows onnnn

Carlos: Stop the violence

Evie: I'm so depressed I've worn the same outfit twice this week

Chad: I'm SLUT SHAMING YOU, BEN!

Uliana: I will make an environment that is so toxic

Uma: I just need to look good. And I do.

Harry: Gil, lock the Door

Gil: I don't know how to do that

[articwolfclawartist]

*SLAMS THESE ON YOUR TABLE* OK SO IVE BEEN WANTING TO DESIGN A MORE ROYAL AND REGAL OUTFIT FOR YUGO BC IF HIS WIFE GETS ONE HE SHOULD TOO DAMMINIT

But unfortunately these drawings seem to be fighting me on every step of the process. I decided I should just post the concepts/WIPs incase this project ends up burning me out. Also I think he should have a super badass staff for the Eliasphere and Eliacube that he can use to stab Osamodas assassins

Enjoy some (low quality) Kingly Yugos

[lee-isnotcool]

my marauders fancast 😍

regulus: timmy obviously, but also dorian from the mischief productions. their jegulus films have me in a chokehold and i will not elaborate

sirius: conan gray. a shaggy haired twink that makes poppy gay music and regularly puts up dramatic shitposts on his spam tiktok?? of course it's sirius!!!

remus: ethan. ethan fully introduced me to the marauders after i started following him in like 2021, and now i cannot see anyone else as our wolf boy. P4PERBACK SUPREMACY!!!

peter: kit connor. HEAR ME OUT- i feel like kit would actually have so much fun playing the villain after so much time as a golden retriever. he would do an excellent job, you can't even deny it.

james: taylor zakhar perez. our tall, sweet, hispanic boy. put a pair of glasses on him and he's literally james.

lily: anya taylor-joy. i can't quite explain it, but she has such a regal face that provides such a diamond-in-the-rough vibe that is so lily.

mary: leah sava jeffries. SHES SUCH A QUEEN UGHHHHHH and she totally embodies mary's sweetness as well as her humor (good-naturedly teasing aryan and walker by calling them dumb or something similar)

marlene: maya hawke. i will not be explaining myself further.

dorcas: corinna brown. she is so funny and confident and DROP DEAD GORGEOUS TOO- she's just so dorcas

barty: dallas liu. DALLAS IS SO FINE BRO- and we already know he can play a zesty badass villain (thank you live-action avatar)

evan: omar rudberg. omar is so ridiculously gorgeous, but as Simon in Young Royals he does it in a quiet way, and i feel like that matches up with evan perfectly

pandora: beabadoobee. she has such a fairycore whimsical vibe and it totally matches pandora's energy. plus, i've headcannoned panda as Filipino for so long-

[hippolotamus]

Fuck it Friday 🐝

tagged by the oh so lovely and talented @eddiebabygirldiaz my love @bidisasterevankinard @tizniz @actuallyitsellie (tagging y’all back for Saturday) check their cool snippets and fanart if you have not 🫶

Combining some asks for this lovely FiF.

Have some flaring Buckley tempers, protective!Buck and badass Maddie 💞

“Evan, you and I both know there isn’t anywhere far enough that he couldn’t find me. I will spend my life looking over my shoulder, constantly wondering when – not if – he’ll appear and ruin everything.” 

“I could protect you.”

“I know you would. And I also know you would die trying. Which is exactly why I can’t risk it. At least here I already know what to expect.”

Another plea dies on his tongue, caught behind his teeth where he swallows it back down. He gathers his sister in a fierce hug and promises himself he’ll find a way out for her. Promises that if he ever gets a second chance to save her, he won’t waste it.

“I’ll go,” Evan blurts out. 

The drawing room goes quiet as three pairs of eyes settle on him, a blend of incredulity and curiosity.

“I beg your pardon?” His father, Phillip, asks as if Evan’s said something absurd. 

“Send me,” he says, gesturing towards Maddie. “I should be the one to go with her.”

“Evan,” Phillip scoffs. He turns his attention to his cufflinks as though they might have something to contribute. “Don’t be ridiculous. Any of our representatives in Mayfair are per-”

“Perfectly capable? Of what?” Evan pushes himself up from his chair, his nostrils flaring with anger. “Protecting her? Knowing what’s best? How? They don’t even know her!”

His mother, Margaret, remains silent except for aggressively stirring her tea. 

“Lord Page and Lord Matthews have been friends of the family for far longer than you or Maddie have been alive. They both have extensive knowledge of the eligible gentleman, their families, titles. I’ve already sent details so they can begin narrowing the prospects to someone willing to marry-” Phillip briefly flicks his gaze to Maddie. “Willing to take a bride in such unique circumstances.” 

“A widow?” Maddie challenges. “I wasn’t aware that was such a rare situation.”

“I would hardly call the mysterious events surrounding your husband’s death ‘common’,” Margaret retorts. 

“See? This is exactly what I mean! Last time, you allowed Maddie – your daughter – to be given away to anyone with the best credentials. And then turned a blind eye when she wound up with- with that absolute monster.”

“Evan!” His parents shout in unison, and if looks could kill he’d be dead a thousand times over.

Maddie steps closer, resting her hand on his forearm as a reassurance. “Evan.” A soft antidote to the poisonous way his name was spat out only moments before. “It’s okay.”

He turns to face his sister, ignoring that they aren’t alone. He can feel his voice breaking before he manages any words. “Maddie. How can you say that? It’s not. Not after-” 

He swipes away the tears threatening to fall, unable to voice what he wants to but knowing she understands him just the same. In a single fluid movement, her hands come together around one of his and she locks their pinkies together. 

“It’s okay, Evan,” she murmurs.

He doesn’t believe that, but he does believe her. He trusts that Maddie knows what she’s doing. 

“Okay.” He nods, lightly tugging their interconnected fingers before letting go. He nervously and proudly watches her face their parents, standing taller. Regal almost. He takes half a step back, enough to create a pocket of space, but still close enough to remind her he’s not going anywhere.

In contrast, she takes a step forward. “Considering it’s my future being hotly debated, I find it rather odd that I haven’t been asked what I want. That my own parents don’t seem concerned regarding if or how I would like to proceed.” 

“If?” Margaret regards Maddie with a puzzled look. “You announced your intention to find a husband and remarry. We only want the best for you.” 

“I did announce that as my intention. At no point, however, did I seek help in that endeavor or hint that I might require it. So,” Maddie adds sharply before their parents can interrupt, “given that I have, in fact, been placed upon the marriage mart before, I feel I have more than enough sense to know what to look out for. Is that clear?”

Evan internally rejoices and cheers. Not just for his sister’s speech but for their parents’ matching dumbfounded expressions. Phillip quickly schools his into something more disinterested and, oh, how Evan wishes he had the ability to capture what it was before. Regardless, they have no power over her in this. She’s not a young maiden beholden to a dowry and perceived status. She’s a grown woman who survived the horrors of an arrangement she had no choice in. 

“Just one more thing,” Maddie says. There’s a lightness in her voice that tells him to pay attention and be ready. “A second opinion and the presence of a trusted male companion never hurts. I wish Evan to accompany me.” She pauses to address him directly. “If, of course, that’s something you want.”

“I- yes. Maddie-”

He’s cut off by Phillip loudly clearing his throat. “You’ve both made your point. I’ll arrange a carriage. Be ready to leave by the end of the week if you want to arrive before all that remains are undesirables and outcasts.”

np tagging (for today or Saturday) @stereopticons @epicbuddieficrecs @loveyouanyway @a-noble-dragon @mountedeverest

@diazheartsbuckley @weewootruck @saybiwithme @shipperqueen6 @ramonaflow

@taketheplanspinitsideways @spotsandsocks @theotherbuckley @stereopticons @kitteneddiediaz

@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend @thekristen999 @filet-o-feelings

@wikiangela @underwaterninja13 @lizzie-bennetdarcy @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings

@inell @jesuisici33 @rmd-writes @shortsighted-owl @queerbuckleys

@bi-buckrights @elvensorceress @bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck

@indestructibleheart @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @the-likesofus @thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland

@wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 2/?

PART 1, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

Some might be a bit ooc but good thing it's called fanfiction and not fantruth amirite

Things to look forward to:

Roo and Goodie (that's the name I decided to give "The Good of All Mankind"

Sins being a somewhat close family/friends (Even with Mammon the jackass)

Badass Luci being the badass king of hell

Father-Daughter moments

Very subtle radioapple (brainrot)

If anyone wants to write a proper fic format based on this, I would be happy to give you permission as long as I can get to read it!

Do we have a deal?

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

Charlie can't sleep all night even though she realizes that she is tired. It's almost noon but she didn't have the strength to get up yet and face everyone. Millions of thoughts are running through her mind. How could she say that to her dad? He was just trying to help. She didn't mean it. It was just in the heat of the moment. She doesn't really think that, right? She loves her dad. It's just not fair. That's no excuse. Wrong. Wrong Wrong. She's sorry. So so very sor-

Vaggie: Babe?

Charlie turns to the door and sees her girlfriend.

Vaggie: How are you feeling?

Charlie: Like I'm the worst daughter ever.

Vaggie comes to sit with her in the bed and hugs her lover as she starts to cry again.

Charlie: Why did I say that to him, Vaggie? He was just trying to help me. If it was any one of you, I would've done the same and made you rest.

Vaggie purses her lips, unsure of what to say.

Vaggie: Why don't you eat something first.

Charlie: is- is he down there?

Vaggie: I-

Before Vaggie could answer, Razzle enters the room in a hurry, gesturing wildly for them to come down. They both run to the lobby following the familiar.

Charlie expected another demon out to cause trouble in the hotel but it was-

Charlie: Aunt Bel?!

It was the Sin of Sloth, Belphegor, standing at the center of the lobby. The other guests watch in apprehension as Alastor's black tentacles are somewhat showing.

Charlie approaches her aunt slowly and notices that despite still upholding the regal stature, the bags under their eye are more prominent than before. The Sin gives a slight bow.

Belphegor: Princess. Your father was not at the palace. I would like to speak to him. Urgently.

Charlie: Oh um. Yes, he's here. He's in his room.

She beckons Razzle to fetch her father.

Charlie: Is something wrong?

Belphegor hesitates but doesn't answer.

Lucifer arrives downstairs the next moment.

Charlie sees the wet look in her father's eyes. Like he's been crying. Of course, he was. She knows her dad. He's her dad-

Charlie tries to catch her dad's gaze but he doesn't so much glance at her direction.

Lucifer: Bel.

The Sin of Sloth gives a deeper bow to her king.

Belphegor: Your Majesty. If I could borrow you for a moment down in Sloth. There is a... situation.

Lucifer adjusts his stance. None of the sins ever called him by anything other than his name before. That is unless there is something wrong or they fucked up big time.

Lucifer: And you went all the way from Sloth?

Belphegore: I- I do not feel it to be wise to discuss this matter over the phone.

That wasn't cryptic at all for the hotel residents.

Lucifer waves for her to come closer and she whispers something into his ear. Everyone was holding their breath.

As soon as she's done, Lucifer and her start moving.

Lucifer: I will be in Sloth. Alastor.

Alastor appears in a wave of shadows to his side.

Alastor: Yes, sire?

Lucifer: I will be unreachable until I resolve this. I'm sure you can handle keeping an eye on the hotel?

Alastor grins.

Alastor: I would be offended if you weren't.

Charlie: Wait! Dad! Please, can we talk before you leave?

Lucifer: Char-ch-

He stops himself and takes a deep breath.

Lucifer: Sorry, Charlie. We'll talk after.

Lucifer gives his daughter a small smile and squeezes her hand.

Husk: What the fuck was that?

Charlie could only stare as her father and aunt disappeared in a portal to the Sloth ring.

Charlie: I don't know.

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

Part 3 Snippet:

Belphegore: Lucifer! What are you doing?!

[rae-gar-targaryen]

It’s wildly self-indulgent but can you do the smallest of little somethings, just a sentence or two honestly, for Javy and pregnant wife!reader 🌻🐝

For you, my darling? Anything. Sorry if this is lame or woefully inaccurate. This got long. And slightly lewd. 16+😘☀️🌻 --

the waiting [javy "coyote" machado x fem!wife!reader]

"For god's sake, Javy, I'm not made of glass!" You puffed, ignoring your husband's outstretched hand and pushing yourself off the couch, making your way to the kitchen for a glass of water (and maybe the entire jar of peanut butter you knew was in your pantry).

"I know that, babe, I do," Javy appeased, following you in softly. "I just think you're tryna do too much. It's okay to rest."

You ceased your clattering in the cutlery drawer, a spoon clutched in your hand as you turned, your eyes meeting Javy's sincere ones that always seemed to take on a wide, glimmering puppydog quality whenever he was trying to endear himself to you.

"There's just," you sighed, chest depressing visibly with the deep exhalation. "So much to do to get ready for him, and what if I'm not ready?"

"Baby," Javy crossed the kitchen to you, gently removing the brandished spoon from your hand and setting it down on the counter, cupping your jaw with his warm hands as he pulled you in to rest against his chest. "I don't know a woman more prepared than you. You've read all the books. We've painted the nursery," he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "What can we do to make you feel better? What's something that's on your list that you haven't done that we can do today?"

You savored the warmth of Javy's embrace, wrapping your arms around his waist and trying not to let the tears now brimming at your waterline spill over onto his shirt at his words.

Stupid hormones. Stupid, sexy husband.

You rocked back on your heels, smiling wanly up at him. "Well....," You trailed, "we really have to talk baby names, Jav."

"You got it," Javy separated himself from you long enough to dip into the pantry and grab the jar of peanut butter.

How did he know?

Scooping the spoon from its place on the counter, he guided you to the couch, one hand on your lower back. Placing the desired peanut butter on the coffee table before gripping your hand in his and guiding you down to your seat on the couch once more. Locking eyes with you, and in a show of ridiculous romance, he pressed a kiss to the hand he held in his, as though you were resplendent, regal.

He glanced at the rings on your finger, warmth flooding him at the reminder that you were his and he was yours.

Taking his seat by your side, he made sure you were comfortable with the right amount of pillow support before retrieving your snack and handing it to you.

"I was thinking ... Jet?" Javy supplied as you dug in to the sweet treat, waiting until your mouth was a little full before you could scoff at him.

Which you did so anyway.

"J," you wheezed through a sticky mouthful of peanut butter, "I don't care what you do for a living. I'm not sick every day so we can name our son 'Jet.'"

"Babeyyyy," Javy whined, his palms smoothing their way up your thighs as he fixed you once more with that puppydog look, glancing up at you through the full fringe of his lashes. "Why not? It's badass. Mickey named his son Vero, for crying out loud."

"Vero is a perfectly acceptable name, Señor Machado," you plopped your spoon against the tip of Javy's nose reproachfully.

"Fine, what did you have in mind?" Javy pressed, slumping back into the couch and watching you savor the peanut butter, twirling the spoon across your tongue and letting it rest in your mouth, as though you were deep in thought.

Evil woman. It's like you knew he would be more inclined to do what you wanted if you teased him a little. He tried to ignore the way his sweatpants began ever-so-slightly to tighten at your slightly lewd display.

And they say pregnant women were turned on all the time. Maybe this was one of those sympathetic symptoms, and that's why he couldn't keep his eyes off of you -- ever. Not the way your chest gently rose and fell in your ever-tightening tank top as your pregnancy progressed. And definitely not the way you looked bent over the crib in what used to be his gaming room but was now his baby's nursery, fussing over the arrangement of orange and black pillows that matched his helmet. Not the way you had, on tiptoes, pressed a kiss to the high peak of his cheekbone, presenting him with a little stuffed coyote that now rested in the crib.

Who was he kidding? He always wanted you.

"Well," you shattered Javy's heated thoughts like glass, "why not ... Javy? As in Javy Machado, Jr.? The Second? However you want."

Javy blinked.

"You really want to give our son my name?" He murmured, inching his way to you on the couch, and reaching his hand for your thigh once more.

You put your spoon down, shuffling to sit sideways and face your husband.

"Why not? His dad is pretty great. He deserves a name that says how much."

Javy lurched for you then, cupping the base of your head in his hands as he pressed his lips to yours, full and flush, smiling through his kisses as he pressed them to your lips, your cheeks -- everywhere he could reach on your face as he guided you back down to the couch, rolling over you as you went.

"I love that," he breathed, pulling his lips from yours for as long as he thought he could stand it. "Love that, baby."

He turned his attention to your neck, savoring the sighing giggles that met his ears as he lavished his affection on you.

"And you know," Javy murmured into your neck. "We can always call him Jet as a nickname." He nuzzled his nose along the column of your throat. "Javier 'the Jet' Machado."

You snorted at that, tugging your beloved's collar of his soft t-shirt to bring his face back up to yours.

"You're ridiculous. That sounds like an ultimate fighter name."

"Why not?" Javy asked, sneaking his hands up the hem of your shirt to skate along your ribcage, pausing over your swollen stomach, as though he could sense his son's approval of the nickname through your skin. "His mom's a badass, after all."

"You're too much, Jav," you smiled, leaning forward to press your lips to his, with smooth kisses that tastes like peanut butter and devotion. "Now can you please get these pants off?" You gestured to the bowtied hem of your sweatpants. "I'm turned on as fuck right now, and it's your fault."

Hmm. Maybe it was a sympathetic symptom.

--

some tags for my usual suspects: @joaquinwhorres @withahappyrefrain  @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @justalonelyslytherin @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @siriusfahey @the-navistar-carol @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @thedaredevilsgirl @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid   @maxmayfield @eagerforthesky @callmemana @mxgyver  @andrewrussgarfield @bioodforbiood @the-purity-pen @luxuryberzatto @liz-allyn  @moonlight-prose @thegirlwhowritesfics @phoebe-danvers @jadore-andor  @marvelousmermaid @spidervee @t-nd-rfoot @buckys-estrella @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun 

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

That gives me an idea: m16 with little sibling reader who's all grown up now, and is going to marry someone she knows lmao

Can I please request that actually?

(GFL) M16A1 with a Sibling!Reader

God help you and M4A1.

M16 had declared (Y/N) her younger sibling ever since the day Griffin had adopted them.

Much like the other human personnel, they were put into a non-combat role inside G&K, much to her relief.

Everyday, she'd check up on them as they grew up, regaling them tales of how badass she was on the field!

Only for M4A1 to come along, hit her over the head, and deliver the less flamboyant truth to (Y/N).

M4A1 was essentially a second sister to (Y/N) and the more responsible of the two T-Doll sisters.

When the rest of the AR Team went to speak to them, other than M4A1, M16 got strangely defensive of them, always holding them close to her chest and not letting anyone get close.

It was usually up to them and M4A1 to make sure she didn't drink herself to death after a mission, or more accurately, enough to short circuit her systems.

Even though they were smaller than her at the time, (Y/N) had become skilled at dragging the weight of an entire T-Doll back to the dorm.

Even if her face skidded across the floor at times.

Years down the line, when she finally met the new Commander other than Kalina, she still did not relent on letting anyone talk to (Y/N).

Whether they were T-Doll or human, M16 was wary. Especially if they were the opposite gender.

And finally, (Y/N) became 18 years old, making M16 reminisce on she got to watch them grow up to become nearly as tall as her!

She got them a drink to celebrate, ignoring the fact they weren't 21 yet.

And she saw an Oath Ring in their hands.

(M16A1) "(Y/N), you're getting married?! Who's the lucky gal?-"

Even though she was drunk, as soon as M16 said it aloud, she realized what was happening.

Her drink was suddenly slammed onto the floor, her one eye twitching as she glared at (Y/N).

(M16A1) "W-WHO IS IT?!"

====

ST AR-15

(M16A1) "WHAT?! That stick in the mud is who you're marrying?! I swear to GOD she better not be thinking of chaining you down! I'LL KILL HER!"

====

M4 SOPMOD II

(M16A1) "SOPMOD?! She's going to get you killed if you follow her whims! W-Well, she won't be neglectful, I guess, but still!

====

RO635

(M16A1) "NO! NO NO NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! My little brother/sister is not marrying the queen of nags! I REFUSE!"

====

Commander

(M16A1) "I...! Ugh...W-Well, the Commander is reliable. Hmph, I begrudgingly accept this, but I'm having a word with them later! How dare he not tell me, or you for that matter! You can confide in me too, y'know!"

====

HK416

(M16A1)

"THE FUCK YOU ARE!"

====

Kalina

(M16A1) "Oh! Well, I guess that makes sense. She is pretty kind...hic! And pretty. Alright, I can let that slide.

[hauntedkidpersona]

Once upon a time// Chapter-6

Pairing- Polybts x reader

Summary-Choosing a husband is not easy, but bring in the seven princes and your in a lot of trouble.

Warnings: Duality of humans, Mistress, Y/N is a badass, Detachment issues, Cold behaviour, Strangers to enemies, Nudity, sexual jokes, talks of orgasm (nothing we don't know)

Overview: Life isn't like fairytale. You knew it the moment you reached a ripe age of nineteen. Which meant, your now a women who is in a hurry to be wed and bring prosperity and fame to your Kingdom. For this, you have readily accepted the self-groom event which requires you to select your husband out of all the potential Kings and Princes alike. But what happens when you select, not one. Not two but seven grooms? Chaos.

Masterlist-

A/n- Taglist is open for now.

Tags- @singukieee @shadowyjellyfishfest

@inlovewithallmusic @lachimolala22019

"Princess, I am not changing my decision. That's final." The King berates you with a stern look.

You nod, not wishing to push your luck. Irene is out and the King refuses to change the punishment. Your trapped, with no way out. It seems peculiar to pester him, it's a losing battle anyways. The King is adamant, and you do not wish to stroke the flames of fury that swirl in the black abyss of his irises.

You sigh, shoulders drooping ever so lightly. "Your Majesty, then kindly change our rooms cause I can't sleep and be alive at the same time."

He looks up at you with an amused look, while you give him a serious look. Your not joking. You don't want to go to bed with a thought that it could be your last.

Chuckling at your choice of words, he speaks. "Since the day Jin's mother was executed, he has blamed me and have always run away from his duties. Not only him, but the other Princes also blame me for the death of their mother."

Shock. That's what you feel, didn't their mothers lived faraway for reasons unknown. Dread fills you, with an involuntary shiver that slithers across your arms like an icy serenade demanding the words to be fake.

Keeping your composure, you speak, holding your tongue from giving away your obvious suspicions. "Please elaborate, Your Majesty."

The King stands up, erupting a screech from chair pushed behind. His pose is regal, screaming power and wisdom from the greyish white hair that cascades down. Escaping the heavy crown that stands poised on his head.

"Their mothers were just vile creatures opting for power, even daring to execute the King so that they can share the power that comes with throne." His words pierce your mind, like a sword stabbing the body of flesh and bones. He turns to you, with a cold look.

"So I killed them all."

You close your eyes, as beads of tension swirls across the lines of your forehead. Frowning, you keep the questions at bay. Each Kingdom has its past, perhaps this one too has a dark one. A Palace being the centre of conspiracy- greed, lust, betrayal. It has all. Living in a lion's den and not expecting an attack is a delusional attempt on your side.

You take a step forward, "And Irene?" Pausing your words, you scrutinize his face for any reaction.

"Jin claims to love Irene cause she was there with him from the beginning but she is just a vile women. She manipulated him with her sweet words, urging him to become King and change the rules so that she can become the Queen. She hid her greed by reminding him of his responsibility. I am not the King of such a big Kingdom for no reason. With great power, comes greater responsibilities. It's not the stranger that you should fear, but the people close to you for they can cause far greater damage."

His words are making sense now. And as soon as you connect the dots, reality grips your heart like a snake slithering for its prey. Pawn, that's what you can deem your worth as of now. Yesterday the King could have carried out an full-fledged investigation, to look into the matter of Irene but no he had rather chosen to give out a punishment. Being eager to get rid of her in haste was a foul move.

This eagerness will cost you more than you bargained for.

"And—" The King stops, taking your full attention. "If Jin is hard to handle, then how will you handle Yoongi and the others."

You huff, subtle in your actions. Yoongi, that Prince is like ice who will freeze you the moment you near him. Who knows, what is he upto? Only time will tell that. Taking your leave, you walk out not before bowing down to the King who dismisses you with a smile, that held ulterior motives. The glint in his eyes tell you that your in for a great ride.

Anika is waiting outside with few guards who accompanied you, "So how did it go?"

Her expression was tight, lips pressed in a thin line.

You don't wait, walking ahead for walls too have ears. Your robes slither, anklets jiggling at each step. "A lot."

You give one word answers, careful of the guards that follow you. Their expression remain stoic, but who knows where their loyalty lies. In Palace, trust is expensive. You do not have any to waste on them.

Your steps come to a halt, as soon as your met with Jin towering your figure in fury. Taking your hand, he smiles sweetly. So fake, that you gagged. "You all can go, I need to talk to her personally."

Not waiting for anyone's reply, he drags you with him. You pretend to be calm, but inside your mad at him for forcing you like this. You hurry to match his footsteps, not wishing to fall and make a fool out of you. Your earrings drop, in chaotic madness as your chest rises and falls, across the weight of the heavy necklace of priceless gems.

He pulls you inside what you deem as his quarters; the door is closed harshly behind you with a loud thud. Looking back, your breath hitches at the close proximity. But Jin is quick to slam you against his chest with brute force.

A gasp, slips past your throat. Cursing the moment it took flight. "Be in your limits, Prince." You glower at him, tone dripping in warning.

At your defiance, he only pulls you close. Breath mingling with yours and here you almost go cross-eyed at how narrow is the gap of your lips which parts, taking huge gulps of air. Wriggling, you wince when he tightens the hold around your waist.

"Now tell me, who gave you the right to punish Irene?" He glares at you, his tone dropping a few octaves.

You roll your eyes, "You should ask this question to His Majesty, not me."

You wriggle relentlessly, but your hands are gripped by his hands. You grit your teeth, as he refuses to budge. "Then why did you attack her, I saw the bleeding Y/N. How dare you stoop so low hah?"

"Oh, then how dare you to fuck that whore in my quarters. It's you who is the problem, not me or anyone. It's you who were trying to push my buttons. Don't you remember how shamelessly you were staring at me, even when you had a lover. You were fucking red on face, and here I thought lovers don't get affected by anyone who isn't their sweetheart. Your a damn cheater, a fucking liar who is hiding in name of love." You fume, unleashing your wrath with your voice that increases in intensity.

How dare he chanel your worth on his lowly scale. A Prince running from responsibility has no right to question you. Stirring trouble, causing rift and hate for Irene was his doing. A Palace has its own laws, and if anyone crosses it. Your bound to punish them. Heck, even the guards were fired for lacking in their duties of guarding the royal library. Then who the fuck is Irene? Irene got his affection, but no title or regard of her worth from the King. In that way, she is just a servant and is to be treated like one. Affection alone doesn't acquire your safety within the palace walls.

Jin backs away, as you glare at him. Refusing to wince at the obvious pain your waist erupts in. Monster, a fucking monster. That's what he is. You hate him.

"So what, I am the Prince. And she wasn't stealing anything for such a harsh punishment. I want her back in Palace, right now." He orders you, as if your some meagre servant.

If he wasn't a Prince, you would have slapped him so hard that he would have a whole factory reset. You pity the King, for getting such a spoilt brat of a son as the future King of the Kingdom.

"Enough of your stupidity. First learn the laws of what powers and limits you have as a Prince. Your not above the King, your fucking below him. What Irene is facing, is because of your poor judgement. Somewhere you must have a hand in filling her mind with delusional security. And that was ripped apart by the King who showed you both their exact place. And now that your trapped, your forcing me to get her back. You fool, the King's decision is above us. I am no one to meddle in your stupid affairs."

To say Jin was mad at your words was an understatement. He knew you were right somewhere but his ego refuses to stroke the thought. He knows he is lacking, heck his father never fails to remind how far behind he is to take the throne. And now that you slap that directly on his face, it's more obvious.

You step forward, eyes blazing. "Have you even fought in war? Do you know what it's like to have lives in your hands. How will you handle this Kingdom with that fragile ego of yours. Unlike me, there will be thousands to point a finger at you. You can shut them but you can't stop them. Why is it that His Majesty only refers me as the future Queen but he never once called you or any brother of yours as future King. Cause you all lack somewhere. To run a Kingdom is not a child's play. Have any of you ever joined the King in the court, have you? You just got distributed with tasks and yet you all fail to prove your worth to His Majesty. Instead of hating me, why don't your pathetic self learn something in court. And if your a coward then give up this title of the Prince that you carry without any responsibility and leave with your tail tucked between your legs."

Your words like shards of glass pierce his body, drawing blood at multiple occasions. His heart is burning with the insults that you threw at him. Calling him a coward was the last straw. "Shut up. Just shut up, I will show you. Just wait and watch how I become a King and banish you from this Kingdom for once and for all."

You smile mockingly, "Don't dream okay, reality is harsh and unfortunately you are a weak Prince."

Throwing him a last look, you move out.

From that day, something changed.

The Seven Princes who hardly ever graced the court with their presence were dragged their by Jin. Days passed on in peace, as Jin got busy in his royal duties. King's advisors and court members were shocked by the drastic change of the elder Prince. He no longer skipped a day of the court.

The current affairs of the Kingdom was handled by him, he even went all the way to investigate and learn from the trusted advisor of his father.

To say the King was happy would be an understatement.

And now you had some peace from the quarrel, though Jin slept in your quarters at night. You two had no interaction whatsoever. By the time your up, he is gone. He had become a lot busy and so your back to enjoying your lonely time.

Taehyung was taking a stroll across the stable. Looking over the royal horses. He smiled as he pats his horse, a special breed. Hard to tame but he grew a liking. Like the dark night, Raven's fur are his pride and as his Master he have given strict instructions for his care.

Just then he hears commotion, and there he is met with a heavenly sight. It's you. His wife that he had little to no connection with coming along with her maids and guards. You haven't seen him yet, and so he is content in observing.

Your complexion is thundering upon the barren land of his heart. As if expecting a heavy downpour. Your decked up in jewels, none being deprived of enhancing your beauty to that of a dazzling moon. He watches as you laugh, climbing on one of the horse with ease.

"Princess, careful." One of your maid chides you.

Deciding to join, he announces his presence with a clap of amusement.

"My lady, it's good to see you here."

To say you were shocked to see him there would be an understatement.

Hiding your frown, you bow at him.

"My Prince, I just came for horse riding." You smile, hoping to cut short the conversation and go on your merry way.

Your grip on the reins tighten, but it's not long before you feel him climbing up behind you. In shock, you move forward. But Taehyung pulls you right against his chest, the added warmth unwelcomed on your part. You bite your lip, scowling at the turn of events. But in front of the maids, you stay silent.

Taehyung enjoys your act of defiance, his fiesty wife is surely mad now. Why should Jin have all the fun? Your his as much as Jin's. Inching closer, he tilts his head. Ever so lightly brushing your neck, he inhales the sweet scent that permeates his being. He feels you shudder, the action not going unattended by him.

He smirks, "Let's go Princess, I will join you."

Whispering sweetly against your ear, he watches you glare at him in burning fury. Chuckling he takes hold of your hands that grip the reins and pulls it.

The cool wind brushes past you, as the horse gallops through the palettes of green. Your stiff, refusing to relax against him. The nature bloomed, with trees casting a shadow that swirled along the rays of the light that create a painting of their own.

Reaching the lake, Taehyung stops near the cool shade of the tree. Getting down, he smiles at you while lending a hand.

Ignoring him, you get down. "I wonder why the Prince is suddenly interested in what I do?" You take a jab at him, not at all pleased at his act.

"I am always interested in what my wife does."

You roll your eyes. Not believing anything. Blessed with beauty, he was a sight to behold but looks can be deceiving. Wary of his motive, you keep your guard. Just in case. "Drop the act, it's of no use."

Taehyung grins, "So cold. Loosen up, My Queen."

You scowl at his display of endearment, refusing to react. You move away. But Taehyung is quick to chase you and match your steps equally. You ignore him, yet again. It's futile to lead you astray with some sweet words. Your heart is guarded, forget about moving. It won't even faze at the sight of a naked man like Jin. Your a person who connects emotionally and your emotions are forever closed for the Princes who are nothing but brats.

"Just yesterday you all hated me. And today suddenly, your showing fake affection. Why, didn't you get any other way to defeat me?" Your words are sharp and calculated, not an ounce of trust exuding at the Prince that walks across you.

Taehyung smiles, "It's nothing like that, why don't you give me a chance Princess? Join me for a tea"

"You?"

"Yes, the one and only Prince Taehyung."

"Princess, can you please send this to Prince Yoongi's quarters? I have to urgently go and give an important message to the King." The way the advisor speaks, you know you can't refuse.

You were ready to refuse, but then you get reminded of how you have to fucking bond. And so you smile, nodding at him. "As long as you don't have an ulterior motive. I am in."

You were just heading for your duties, when your stopped by the Royal Advisor. It seems, the message is not to be known by anyone and interfering in it would be futile. But you have to meet him out of all the Princes. That rude ass guy. Still, not having an option you take the pile of books.

Bowing to you, he hurries to the opposite direction.

"Uh, that was quick." Anika laughs,

You shake your head, feet moving towards the Yoongi's quarters. Your steps are confident, even as the guards open the door, letting you inside the haven of Prince. Sensing your presence, his trusted assistant quickly greets you.

But your eyes are looking at a very sleepy man who is seated on the chair, doing anything but work. "Does his lover entertain him so much that now he has to sleep during work hours?"

Your words are soft spoken, not wishing to rile up the sleeping cat who might just claw you if you dig too deep. Keeping the books on the table, you look up at the assistant who is busy looking at you without a blink.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Look down, do you want to die?" It's Anika who scolds him, breaking his dazed look.

He shakes his head, "I just was surprised, how someone can be this beautiful. Pardon my rudeness, Princess. I have heard a lot about you and now seeing you in front, I was shocked. Sorry,"

You nod, dismissing him. It's not your first time hearing it and neither it will be your last. You look around, taking a look at the cozy workplace. Decked up in gold and red, it screamed royalty and luxury. A seperate shelf was kept at the corner, wherein the books must contain the talks of war, politics, geography and so on.

Moving away, you look through the window. Getting a perfect view of the Garden from afar. Not that your jealous of your quarters, it's just that there would be no harm if the King gave you an extra quarter which had a perfect view. Anyways that cat won't mind, or will he?

Turning around, you almost shriek at the man who looks unbothered. Your heart thuds against your ribcage, even as you sense the absence of that assistant and Anika who were nowhere to be seen. "Are you done inspecting, Princess?"

You bite your lip, scowling to hide the obvious blush of embarassment rushing to your cheeks. "And are you done working hubby?" You mock back. Purposely adding the last word, just to irk him.

Yoongi gives you a cold look. "The door is there," he points at the exit.

As if you don't know.

"Where, I can't see it?" You look around, searching for that legendary exit.

"Don't joke with me okay, I have work to do. Get out."

His words are final. Not that your dying to be here. You tch at him, why so cold? But then, questioning others for their coldness isn't justified if your rude too. You shrug, not that it matters anyways.

"Now now Yoongi, is this the way you talk to the Princess."

[ronearoundblindly]

Threadbare (4)

Steve Rogers x Fashion Designer!Reader

Part Four: Necking Region (see previous or series)

Summary: Chaos erupts at your Spring Show, but Steve is right there...at your feet.

Warnings for canon-level violence, Tony Stark's sass (obvi), kithes, and one hella-badass AND fluffy Reader! WC 4259

For you, handsome.

Handsome? Steve can work with that.

Even in the fresh dark, he schools his face in hopes to hide the nerves fluttering beneath his skin. Steve is determined to talk to you after the show, and he won’t get waylaid like in the fall. He’ll order three of everything that crosses the stage just to spend time with you again.

Quality time.

That he pays for.

Shoot, is he making it weird? Is that better than lying?

The music cue is deafening, and Steve jumps almost imperceptibly in his seat. 

Yikes, he’s a nervous wreck. He adjust the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat in the split second while the noise is drowned out and the place is still dark, but when the lights come back up, Steve Rogers’ heart stops.

It’s like…it’s like he’s looking into the past through one of Wanda’s magic visions.

His heart swells even as his chest tightens. There’s a sharp tingle behind his sinuses but he can’t look away. He blinks away the discomfort. 

Each silhouette triggers a long lost memory because they’re him. You would have seen him.

He remembers buying children’s clothes sometimes. For a long time, his ma resewed every seam in every pair of slacks. After she died, he just rolled up the hem and tightened his belt.

Of course, your models look nothing like that. They look striking and regal. They are meant to be seen. He can tell by their faces they want to be seen in your clothes, and Steve’s proud to even know you.

He grew up stuffing newspaper in his shoes. Now, your name and men who look like him—like he used to—will be in the newspaper. You’ll be on the cover for this.

Steve compulsively sweeps his hand over his hair and his eyes fall to his lap, concealing a dopey smile. He thinks this is the single most fantastic surprise of his life…

Then he sees the tenth model.

A slight, blond man in a crisp, collarless white shirt, navy jacket, and red pants struts down the platform, and the audience goes nuts. He’s certain a monitor would register his heart completely stopping for the entire walk, but Steve can only feel right now. He can’t think. His unfocused eyes wonder to the shadow where you were before, but he can’t even see.

The group does a whole second, swift run-through, but he’s not there anymore.

You emerge in this red, white, and blue masterpiece of a gown, perfectly complimenting the coloring of the last model, and Steve’s mind, body, and soul are on fire.

He watches you cup the face of your model and beam a wide smile, leaning down to him. You kiss that slight man’s cheek, and Steve has an out-of-body—or original-body—experience that shudders his large frame. 

His mind runs away, picturing working and relaxing beside you for all things, sketching, reading, resting, but he’s little again and your face is exactly the same. You don’t look at him any differently. He’s just Steve, either way, both ways, any way, and always. 

It’s only when the person next to him bumps Steve that he, too, pops off his seat for your standing ovation. He gets lost in the joy written all over your face, clapping his hands so hard his palms sting, but he will cheer you on until he’s worn them to the bone just to—

Your face falls as the underlying noise changes in the venue.

He knows that sound.

Steve understood why flashbulb photography triggered veterans like gunfire, but nowadays there’s no mistaking the difference. Those are bullets, and someone is pointing guns directly into your event space.

The room is already in complete chaos when Steve turns toward the intrusion. Guests scatter everywhere in every direction, some so disoriented they run at the shots.

Steve whips out his phone and yells over the din for F.R.I.D.A.Y to call emergency services, police and medical, to his location, then starts what should be an easy, ten-foot journey, but you’re practically across an ocean.

The music hasn’t stopped. People closest to the neck of the stage are still clapping, unsuspecting of the crowd knocking them down in search of two stage doors locked from the other side.

Something is off though because nothing Steve sees is impacted until he swivels back, shoved off kilter by two terrified women who tilt his gaze higher.

The panels of sheer fabric he thought were moody decor are fielding bullets like baseballs in a practice net. He’s never witnessed anything quite like it, but at least it means Steve has time to get to you. He has to move you off the stage so you aren’t so easy of a target.

Smacked around like a pinball in high speed machine, Steve hastily rushes to the rose-rimmed platform, barely missing your ankle in his reach and shouting for your attention.

He thinks you’ve heard when you spin, but it’s too late. Someone has breeched the protective panels, and any temporary structures throughout the venue start exploding from a hailstorm of semi-automatic fire.

Steve checks that the stage doors have been unlocked. Guests are getting out, but the bottleneck is slow. Your models are stuck on the stage, their path blocked by fallen scaffolding and sparking lights. You need to get the hell down, so he raises a hand to call for you again.

And then…

And then there’s an enormous arch of navy and red, centered by the glowing star on your chest.

And then a bullet streaks across the silvery mesh on your stomach.

A gunman has come around your shield, and Steve’s seeing red—well, more red—as he scans to see you unharmed.

Screw that guy.

Steve vaults over the stage, decks the gunman square in the jaw, and waits till the limp body rests motionless against a fallen chair.

He looks up to see you, not smiling but not upset. You’re waving for the trapped models to come closer to the barrier before meeting Steve’s eyes.

“Go get ‘em.“ You pull at the cuff of your filigreed sleeve, ticking your head to signal Steve should, too. “You’re dressed for it.”

He studies the buttons on his jacket, those unique ones at his wrists that hold concentric circles like his shield…or so he thought. Now he realizes, they aren’t just buttons; they are activation buttons.

He grabs his forearms to press both, feeling a gentle tingle spread.

His eyes snap back up to yours.

“Oh.”

You wink at him before all automated function of his body takes over, and Steve runs headlong for the goons with guns, wearing naught but a shockingly-useful suit separate and the ghost of his same goofy smile.

You think he’s handsome.

 Steve tucks and rolls behind one fabric screen, clocking the location of one gunman by the muzzle flare through the fabric. He rushes and drops one—two—three more until he sees a small grouping split off from a masked man’s side.

It’s Richard Fisk in a shock-white suit and with completely obscured face, but it’s absolutely ‘The Rose’ with a perfect blood-red bloom stuffed in his lapel.

The goons will stop if the boss goes down, Steve knows. He’s seen it a hundred times before, so he grabs the sidearm of the man he just leveled and fires at Fisk’s leg.

The bullet lands exactly where intended but hits like no more than a crowd-suppressant beanbag.

“Is that the best you can do, Captain?”

Great. You made Fisk a bulletproof suit, too.

Steve jumps behind the nearest screen, losing ground but crouching beside one of the other unconscious gunmen. A can of tear gas is strapped to the guy’s chest, and Steve just acts.

Fisk howls like a banshee, ripping the bizarre purple and black striped mask off his face to gasp for air and cough.

The Rose laughs, cocky and taunting. “You brought morals to a gunfight. You don’t even have your frisbee.”

Fisk sprays bullets randomly in the direction from which he saw the canister fly, and Steve sprints, sliding on his knees all the way to Fisk’s feet, arms up and shoved together as if he’s wearing his Wakandan guards. He feels some rounds bounce off his chest, hardly slowing him down, but the sound of bullets as they ricochet off his sleeves is intense. No doubt, Fisk would have landed multiple kill shots.

Armed police file in the entrance and scream for the goons to put their weapons down and their hands up.

Another coughing fit pauses Fisk’s assault. Steve chances opening his arms and swings immediately for the sneering, twisted face above him.

The man spins with the concussive force. Just before Fisk collapses in a makeshift bed of hot ammo shells and cold rose petals, Steve stands and adjusts his jacket.

“No—“ his hand smoothes over pristine and unfrayed midnight “—but I brought style.”

Iron Man swoops in to land on the other side of Richard Fisk’s body.

“Damn it, I didn’t get that on video. Can we reset and you say that line again?”

“Tony,” Steve warns.

“What?! It was so good, buddy. No seriously, I’m proud of that—“ Steve turns to check on you, watching the fabric of your skirt flutter back down to drape across the runway “—dare I say it’s my influence. I want proof you—“

“Tony,” Steve shouts again. Finally, the music is turned off from the media console.

“All clear,” Tony yells with his hands cupping his mouth. “Where’s your ‘girlfriend?’” He relaxes his arms after air-quoting and gives Steve a once-over. “Don’t think I don’t know you cut me in line for that.” 

Steve fiddles with his cuffs, attempting to swallow a blush and failing. He presses the buttons again. The tingling stops.

Tony frowns, pointing an accusatory finger as he watches Steve shrug. “That’s favoritism, and I thought you were better than that.” He turns deeper into the venue, screaming, “Sheers! You good?”

There’s no audible answer, so the pair make their way past the decimated decor.

Titanium boots crunch against the floor. “Looks more like my first dates than yours.”

“For the love of god, Tony, please…” but Steve is suddenly engrossed, rounding one last screen to see your models and several guests nervously huddled at your legs, your arms reaching out to comfort each and every one.

So strong. So soft. That’s you. That’s what you create.

“Hey,” you say with a huge breath and a soft sweet smile as Steve approaches.

He makes his way straight to your feet and holds out his hands. “Hey.”

“Hey?” Tony blurts, watching Steve lift you down by the waist like a princess. “Hey?? Yeah, sure. Cool. I love being upstaged. It’s not like I didn’t offer to fund this shit a year ago—“

“Language,” you and Steve say simultaneously.

“—or anything. No big deal.” Tony scoffs. “When else would I be perfectly within my rights to swear? We have to talk about this is my point.” He waves his gauntlet in the general area of you and clucks his tongue.

“Any other day, Stark.”

Tony, however, doesn’t need others to be as amused as he is. “Admit it. I’m an inspiration.”

“To find alternatives? To find feasible, reproducible options?” You break away from Steve’s grasp to step closer to Tony. “Yes, I did that. We can’t all be covered in nanotech.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s cost prohibitive,” you rage.

Steve stands ready to catch you, seeing the way your energy wilts after each sentence and that you can’t keep your hand up without them shaking.

Tony snorts. “What? Speak english.”

“Speak average,” you whip back, but before a staring contest can ensue, Abby pounces to swing you into a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!”

You’re distracted by your assistant while Steve scopes out the venue, noting the triage area and cops beginning to take statements from unharmed guests.

Knowing Steve will ask, Tony interjects. “No major injuries. Mostly just bruises and sprains from people trampling each other.”

That’s incredible considering the pools of spent shells all on one particular side of those tall panels. They must be made of the same material—

“Stop fondling, Tony.” Steve smacks his friend’s hands off your skirts.

“I’ll have you know I’m fondling in the interest of science,” his friend hisses comically. He does drop the fabric though. “Fine. Then I’ll just be taking your jacket as payment.”

“Payment for what?”

“Letting you escort the lady home and bypassing the lovely, lengthy interviews the boys in blue are gonna want.“

It takes Steve all of three seconds to consider.

“Deal,” he agrees, imagining that with a crowd this size, you’d be busy until the wee hours of the morning, wringing your hands as you repeat yourself a dozen times, wrapped in a wool blanket, exhausted. He shrugs off the blazer quickly before any of the other officers come to speak with you and tucks one arm around yours to tell you the plan.

Abby encourages the escape.

Steve’s thrilled he did not walk to the event. He took a car in order to line up in the red carpet procession—as awful as he finds the practice—and luckily, the driver is still ready and able to maneuver the vehicle past a sea of police cruisers.

Seeing as most of your bodice and sleeves are sheer, you curl inward for warmth instead of lean against the cool leather of the backseat. Normally, Steve would offer his jacket, but in lieu of any decent layers to peel off for you, he drapes his arm over your shoulders. The flashing red and blue lights fade in the distance as you sink comfortably against his chest.

“So…” Steve starts, quiet and casual, “Tony wasn’t supposed to know you’d already sold Richard Fisk a bulletproof suit, huh?”

He can see your eyes are still open, staring out the window, but you don’t respond right away.

“Originally, I’d basically made a very thin kevlar, and that…wasn’t the end goal, so I made a few suits for a steep price to try for, well, what you saw tonight. Stark isn’t exactly subtle.” You shift an accusatory glance up to Steve momentarily. “Three days after Dominica delivered Fisk’s first suit, none other than the Tony Stark comes into my store asking questions. He tried to get me to develop under Stark Industries, wanted my work to be exclusive—and I’m sure completely under his own brand—so I said no. This was all spoken in hypotheticals, mind you. ‘Hypothetically,’ if I worked for him, the mob couldn’t get me, and ‘hypothetically,’ he could help speed my research along. He tried a few different times, too. I thought he was parading you in as bait at first.”

“You thought I was…what?”

“I thought Stark brought in the cute guy who looks perfect in my designs as some sort of dangling carrot to work for him.”

Steve’s floored.

“When did you know I wasn’t a plant?”

“Oh, one second after seeing your face. Nobody with an agenda is that good at looking clueless.”

He’d be offended if it weren’t entirely true. Steve had absolutely zero idea what to do or say being fitted and consulted on for civilian clothes, and he thought he was supposed to be meeting a man that whole time. However, he would not put it past Tony to have intended he be bait with no warning, and in fact, this would count as the greatest ‘long game’ Stark has ever played. Steve wouldn’t have needed more incentive to get close to you.

“Yeah, I invented the stuff,” you continue with a shrug and a yawn, “but he doesn’t own me and I like designing all sorts of things. I think that’s…”

Your voice trails off before Steve prods. “What?”

“I think that’s why he goaded me about my typical line. I told him I wouldn’t be pigeonholed into dressing superheroes, so I would look like a hypocrite if I still only made clothes for—“ you sit up and fake a deep, arrogant voice “—shiny, blond beefcakes.”

Steve’s hand slaps his forehead. Tony absolutely used those exact words.

“So I engineered the stuff alone and overhauled my entire collection in the last two weeks. That’s what Stark does, right? Control you without really controlling you.”

“It’s called being manipulative, and he and I have had several conversations about it,” Steve grumbles.

You’ve hit a second wind of energy but fiddle with your lap before asking, “what did you think of the show?”

Steve sits up straighter and clears his throat.

“Ya know,” you quickly interject, “prior to it becoming the Battle of Skylight Square.”

Just as Steve opens his mouth the car stops. The driver announces you’ve arrived at the atelier and thus your upstairs apartment.

Steve steps out and realizes the police car usually stationed at the curb is no longer there, likely called away to the scene earlier. He dismisses his driver for the evening and makes the executive decision to stay as your guard the rest of the night.

You shuffle to the front door, exclaiming that the real piece de resistance of your gown is your pockets from which you brandish your keys. Steve’s grateful you’re animated (if a little loopy) and distracted while his mind scurries to form words.

He can’t express what he saw and felt when he looked on that stage, so he hums in agreement with your rant on pockets and follows behind you, hands on your hips as you struggle to walk up the staircase.

You pause on the first step and peek at him over your shoulder.

“So…’Button,’ huh?”

He blushes furiously and focuses on your balance when you won’t. The dress train is long enough to require he lift it so he can see the stairs beneath his own feet. You two climb slowly.

“Well,” Steve blusters, repositioning the layers so one of his hands on your hip sits under your own hand that lifts the front bustle, “‘Handsome,’ right?”

One step up. You snort. “You say that like it’s odd that I’m attracted to you, but I think I thoroughly proved that tonight, mister.”

Another step up, and you’re about three-quarters of the way there.

Steve can’t hold back anymore though, not even till the top of one flight.

He uses his grip to spin you around and nudges his foot under your skirts, rising to the stair just below you. You’ve dropped all else and grabbed onto him for balance, cupping his cheeks like he saw you do earlier tonight. You have to lean down to him as his whole being screams ‘let me kiss you.’

Steve has a distinctly in-body experience, all his imaginings of touching a woman so sweetly and in exactly the way he would have a century ago come to fruition right there.

With a hard-working girl after a fight with a bully, just as it should be.

He loses track of his hands amongst the tangled yards of your dress, but your lips are soft and perfect. He ascends a few inches more by way of his tip toes and clings to the railing for balance. Steve has the fleeting thought that he might inadvertently be yanking you toward him with a palm over your ass—not on it because he can barely tell there is even a body part there—so he moves his hand up for assurances. Up is safer. Up is more gentlemanly. He teeters both on his toes and on the cusp of gentlemanly given how lost Steve is in devouring you.

Stunning and innovative as they are, your skirts are prohibitively fluffy, and Steve feels more and more of your weight resting on him, those last dregs of adrenaline draining away. He pulls back, ghosting a peck on your still eagerly pursed lips.

“Let’s get you comfy, Button,” he husks, rolling his thumb back and forth between what he now realizes are your shoulder blades.

You nod, your forehead against his, and although he’d normally think it forward, his desire to take care of you wins out, deliberately finding your thigh to coax your legs around him.

He carries you the rest of the way, nearly tripping but laughing the whole journey. “Sure it saved some people,” he jokes, “but then ‘bout took me down, so…”

He deposits you by your closet and goes to make you a very sweet herbal tea while you change. He’s surprised when you emerge dressed down with sweats for him in hand. 

“Menswear designer,” you remind him simply.

Even though it was never technically real until this moment, Steve falls back into the routine of kissing your temple so easily as he passes off the mug and heads to the tiny bathroom. 

When he returns though, you have a familiar thousand-mile stare.

He tries to change the subject, to get you talking about something other than today, tonight, and tomorrow. He draws a blank until the shuffle of paper sounds beneath his hand. It just so happens that on your dining table—or should he say, your work desk?—is a sketch for his Gala outfit. 

“Would you come with me?”

You hum softly in question.

“I mean, as my date. Will you go on a date with me? To this Hellfire thing?” 

The distance in your eyes shrinks until it’s just him and you. A smile blooms across your strained face.

“Yes. I’d like that,” you say softly before taking a huge breath that seems to physically toss weight off your hunched form. “Whatever shall I wear though…”

“Not to give you extra work,” Steve chuckles back, “but I know this great designer.”

You laugh into your tea, both hands around the ceramic, holding on for dear life.

“Should I open a window? You probably could use some more fresh air,” he offers. 

“Oh, they’re painted shut, possibly since before I was born, but we could go to the roof?” 

He’s not sure if that’s a commentary on you finding him lurking up there last week, but it’s a fine idea nonetheless. “Chairs?” 

You look around and counter. “Pillows?”

Steve takes another moment to think while you gather, and he ends up holding several cushions and your tea. As you both continue up the much tinier staircase to the access door, something occurs to him. 

“Wait, did you give me a prototype that was untested?”

You laugh nervously. “Um—“ you use your butt to open the door “—well, see, if anyone’s gonna be fine should a bulletproof and bullet repellant material fail, it’ll be a super soldier, right?” 

“So I was your guinea pig?!”

“I’m sorry,” you burst sarcastically. “You got a free, custom jacket—which you chose to wear to my show, might I add—and what would you have had ready without my ‘untested prototype?’” 

Steve makes doe eyes in the dark, ambient light pollution. “I just thought you cared about my safety there for a minute…” 

“I cared for everyone’s safety,” you chirp in retaliation for his heavy guilting. “I made those panels just in case, but I was never, ever going to cancel my whole show on the assumption Fisk would pull a stunt like that. Forgive me for not living my life in fear of what that lunatic, second-rate kingpin might do!” 

He shrugs at that, dropping his pillows in a makeshift seat pattern right beside yours. “Fair point.” 

There’s a comfortable silence while you sip your cooling tea. 

“Should have made myself one,” Steve laments in a soft breath. 

“Sweet, chivalrous beefcake,” you whisper, shaking your head. 

“Tony really said that, didn’t he?” 

“I think he wanted me to know he is my competition for your affection.”

“You aren’t…” Steve stops himself. He was going to say you and Tony are not competitors at all, but that isn’t true on multiple levels. He swivels to scoop up your legs and settle them over his lap, just like he used to on the couch at the Tower, and you squeak, clutching your sloshing tea. One of his hands circles your hip to rest at the top of one leg. The other lands at the strip of bare skin where your sweats don’t touch the ankle of your slip-on shoes. His pinky flicks over the fleece lining, rounding out his mental measurements of your body. For now.

“There is no competition,” his concludes in a low, deep tone. “You win.”

You stare up at him with glassy eyes now, in awe of something he can’t see but hopes to earn. This time it’s your expression that pleads for him, and he leans in for another lingering, thorough kiss.

Steve licks the sweet taste off his lips. “Should’ve made another tea,” he repeats.

Your eyes open again slowly, sleepily, reminding him of that daydream of waking up next to you and breakfast in bed.

He sneaks another peck before you can forms words.

“Is this a bad time to tell you…that I forgot my keys and the door shut all the way?”

Steve looks over incredulously at that stupid exit and sighs, scratching his jaw.

“It’s, uh, about as bad as—“ he debates admitting what he’s about to “—well, I can, I mean I could get us back in, but…” He glances over the side of the building. “How do you feel about sleeping with a window open, or rather, no window?”

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes @deandreamernp @shelbygeek @rogersideup @eyebagsanonymous @trudy-shams @saranghaey @darsynia @femefetalelevelingup

[Last Part]

A/N: probably not as well edited as it should be, but meh, I'm too excited to release this out into the wild! Comments, keysmashes, and asks always welcome. Thank you for reading!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[wolfoftheblackflames]

And here's what you've all been waiting for. The FINALE! Thanks so much for reading my fun little fanfic, my sweet misfits! Enjoy the tasty desert! (It's been fun writing this ^^)

Dancing with the Devil: Pt. 5

It was a few moments before Charlie whistled loudly summoning Razzle and Dazzle. “Baaaap?!” Both looked shocked but then looked over at the jerk who hurt their mistress. “Baaaaap….” Both growled lowly and followed Seviathan.

Charlie panted softly but then turned to look at Vaggie. “I'm really sorry you had to see me like this…” Her eyes lowered to the ground, unable to face her date.

Vaggie was in shock, sure, but her heart was pounding upon seeing that beautiful demon form. “Cariño…” (Sweetheart). Her hand gently came to Charlie's cheek, her thumb gently brushing away a tear that had threatened to fall. “Don't be sorry. It's actually very sweet that you'd be getting angry over someone like me.” Vaggie stated softly, her hand being lightly grasped by those long black claws.

“What do you mean?” Charlie asked, nuzzling Vaggie's palm.

“Well before I met you, all I had was some co-workers in the military that weren't exactly the nicest. I also did things alongside those jerks that I'm not proud of…” Vaggie started but took a soft breath to calm herself. “I had killed people Charlie, and I hate myself for it, and in some sick way sometimes it felt good to be acknowledged for those kills. I got praised for how flashy they were too…”

Charlie's eyes widen but then soften hearing the regret in her voice. She gently pulled Vaggie close and nuzzled into her hair, her body vibrating because of the soft purring it was doing. “I can see why you don't talk about your life before Hell… But if you're implying that you, the cutest, the most beautiful, and the coolest badass woman I've ever met, doesn't deserve to be loved or respected? Then I'm sorry, but I really want to whack you for ever thinking that.”

Vaggie leaned into the hug and nodded. “There you go again…”

“What it's true.” Charlie stated with a matter of fact tone.

The two jolted slightly, hearing Seviathan scream. “I was promised a dance at this fancy ball. Shall we?” Vaggie stepped back but had a smirk on her face.

Charlie blinked “Just let me put away these first…” She motioned to the horns and tail but stared as Vaggie took her hands into her own.

“You look gorgeous with them out babe. And I do mean it.” The angel smiled lightly, lifting those hands up and twirling only to briefly rest against Charlie's chest with those hands around her shoulders.

The way she moved, Charlie swore Vaggie was either a natural, or very talented in the dance department. The way that ivory gaze looked back up into soft white, it felt like time had stopped. “Thanks…”

The two glided across the stone walkway of the garden, each easily moving with one another to the ballroom music that echoed inside the bustling building. Charlie felt like she was walking on air right now as she was guided by Vaggie with each step. The way Hell's natural light lit up her frame, Charlie swore that in this moment Vaggie was truly the most beautiful being in Hell.

The slow dance tempo echoed as the two swayed close at its rhythm. “So did that asshole really…” Vaggie asked as Charlie scoffs. “Nope, I never once let him do that with me. Seriously the jerk thought if he pressured me enough I'd do it.”

“Good, it makes me a little relieved, babe.” Vaggie muttered, then looked up at Charlie, who looked down at her. The light of Hell made the princess looked so regal and elegant right now, and Vaggie listening to her heart for once pulled down on that chain lightly and kissed Charlie.

It was sudden and brief but it left the princess stunned. Her tail had shot up as now a cute dopey love struck look graced that face. “Whoa…” Charlie muttered but shook her head to get out of the daze quick. “Will you be my girlfriend?!” She blurted out causing Vaggie to laugh.

“I wouldn't have kissed you if I didn't want to be princesa.” The angel teased but yelped when Charlie just quickly lifted her up and spun her around.

“Let's ditch this joint and go on a real date while the night is young.” The demoness grinned as Vaggie laughed at the theatrics Charlie was doing. Right down to the princess bridal carrying the angel out of there when Razzle and Dazzle zipped past clearly looking pleased. “Woooooo hoooo! Best night ever!”

“Charlie babe slow down!” Vaggie laughed as the two hurried out of that place.

Once in the limo, the goofs could relax, but this time, Charlie smirked and gave Vaggie a kiss on the cheek. “Can you do that again? Please?” She asked, giving puppy dog eyes. Vaggie just rolled her eye and gave her girlfriend all the kisses the princess could ever ask for.

(And done! Thanks again for reading my fic guys. I hope you enjoyed it. See you all next time when a new fic drops, until then enjoy the cuteness my lovable misfits!)

[tobiasdrake]

Alright, here we go with Dragon Ball Daima, episode 3. Onward, to Daimakai!

Hold up, hold up. The transit space is called Warp-sama? With the -sama honorific, which is meant to show respect to venerable elders and mentors and stuff? XD

...I have to know what the dub calls it. One sec.

...

...

Wait, is Daima not being... I think the word is dualcast? Where they release both the dub and sub alongside each other.

Huh. I just assumed.

*google google*

...they're not releasing the dub on Crunchyroll because they want people to turn out for a theatrical release of the first three episodes.

I. Don't know enough about Western anime releases to know if that's weird or not. But it's definitely one solid

from me. Uh. Have fun at Regal Cinema, I guess?

First portion of this episode is spent making the journey through Warp-sama in order to reach Daimakai. Which would probably be more impactful if we hadn't already spent a bunch of time watching King Gomah make the same trip previously.

Like. This would be really awesome to go through for the very first time right alongside Goku, with the same sense of wonder he has, while Glorio's explaining how it all works.

But now I'm just like, "I don't care. I've seen this. I understand what this is. You're rehashing. Get to the new stuff."

Which only reinforces my opinion that the first episode is bad. After spending half an episode watching a Dragon Ball Z clip show, they then proceeded to shortsightedly ruin the beginning to episode 3. This should have been our first exposure to Warp-sama.

I am too, mainly because the closing credits indicated that Bulma, Vegeta, and Piccolo will make it to Daimakai. But I am curious how the PIN number will play into things.

Hopefully this means Team Bulma will get to explore the bureaucracy of Warp-sama and build that out a bit while Goku's having demon adventures.

Especially since it looks like Goku now has a roadmap for getting to Makai #1 without needing to go through Warp-sama to do it. So if Team Bulma does come through Warp-sama, they can probably just meet up with him in Makai #2 or something.

Much like the offhandedly established Tamagami, these pathways blocked by light barriers that we just happen to be passing by reek of plot-building.

Glorio is ominously evasive about his work. TAKING ALL BETS!!! The true nature of his job is:

1 - Something really questionable, like an assassin or personal minion to King Gomah. He can't say it because then Goku and Kaioshin wouldn't trust him.

2 - Something really embarrassing, like King Gomah's pillow fluffer. He can't say it because he wants these guys to take him seriously as a mysterious shonen badass.

This being Dragon Ball, it could go either way.

That Kaioshin too comes from Makai retroactively adds an interesting layer to how fearful he was of Dabra back in the Buu arc. Like.

Before, the context was just that this guy is the strongest guy in all the known realities. He's the ruler of Makai and he makes the mortal realm's strongest, Frieza, look like weak-ass horseshit by comparison. Kaioshin, a legendary super god whose very existence was considered mythical by gods, knew of him by reputation. And what he knew was that this guy is the most to be feared.

But with the new Daimakai lore, Kaioshin was actually one of Dabra's subjects once upon a time. His fear of Dabra isn't reputational; He grew up under Dabra and knows what he's capable of.

And then, one day, he saw Dabra made a puppet to Babidi and brought to the mortal realm. To revive Majin Buu.

Between "Everyone's turned into children again and can't use their abilities effectively anymore" and "The air in Daimakai is super heavy and makes everything sluggish", there's a lot of nerfs in play right now.

It makes sense. They want to do a big RPG fantasy adventure starting from level 1 but with a cast who can sneeze too hard and accidentally break seven universes. There's an effort on display here to try and avoid the "Goten and Trunks are menaced by the STRONGEST SNAKE IN THE UNIVEEEEEEEEERSE" problem that DBS (and GT and often the Z anime, for that matter) had.

Characters don't need to constantly forget that they can fly and teleport and shoot galaxy-crushing super-beams if you bake in a reason why they can't do those things right now.

That said....

Kaioshin ain't kidding. This is moving slow. We're fifteen minutes into a twenty-three minute episode. Apart from the briefest possible altercation with bandits we didn't even get to fight, all we've done is sit in the plane while Glorio reads off entries from the Daimakai Fandom Wiki to us.

Toei, I said this in episode 1 and I'll reiterate: You don't need to write like you're giving the manga space to get ahead.

Riveting stuff. I am on the edge of my seat for Glorio staring into the camera and monotonously explaining Makai #3's geology.

I'm sure this is being established so that it can come up in an interesting way later down the road. I'm just saying, there are better ways to convey information to your audience than by having a character emotionlessly read worldbuilding entries from the Story Bible for 3/4 of an episode.

Robbing the hotel manager that was trying to extort them is the first interesting thing we've seen Glorio do so far. Particularly interesting is his holstered gun, which he used to abruptly cut the bandit attack short a moment ago so he could resume explaining the lore.

It's easy to overlook as an American, given that everyone and their dog seems to have seven different firearms stored under their pillow, on the kitchen table, in the baby's crib, wherever. But having a gun in Japan is a Big Fucking Deal.

So that is certainly interesting.

But at this point, this character certainly has me waiting for the other shoe to drop. He is so deadly serious. There has to be a punchline coming. The ending credits seem to imply that he's got like a little sister or something that will be joining us and I can't wait to meet her because I bet she's going to take the wind out of his sails hard.

Right now, he feels like a straight man in search of an absurd counterpart to bounce jokes off him. Goku and Kaioshin are too busy bouncing jokes off each other to do that.

Ahhh, Toei loves "Big Eater Goku" jokes.

Fortunately, we're far enough removed from everyone constantly popping a Senzu that Goku having his huge appetite back won't constitute a plot hole.

That was a big deal in the Z anime, which pretty much abandoned the "Eating a Senzu means Goku won't need to eat a truckload of food for a full week" rule immediately so they could keep doing Truckload of Food jokes.

But as long as we keep Goku an entire reality away from Senzu, Toei can do as many Truckload of Food gags as they want without adversely affecting the show's consistency.

...I want a Makai hamburger now.

What is the beef made of? Do they have cows in Makai? I bet they have demon cows. Fire-breathing demon cows.

Hey, Exposition Guy, tell me about the fire-breathing demon cows. Can we go fight one?

Oh, Goku had the same question.

...shit, it's probably people. Aww.

That won't bother Goku, though. He is entirely comfortable with cooking and eating sapient beings. I mean, he didn't eat Cymbal, but he was party to it.

YOU, SIR, ARE A WOLF

I know we've established that having pointy ears means you're from Makai. But that man is a wolf. His ear pointiness is entirely incidental and a product of being animal people.

I don't think he's from here. I think he's a fake Majin. I think Earthling animal people are sneaking over here and pretending to be locals.

Goku barfighting local thugs while trying to enjoy his demonburgers is the best part of the episode. Especially for how few fucks Glorio gives about this.

He did a little bit of the fighting to get the action scene started. But then he was just like:

"Ehh, naptime. You guys are on your own."

It's a super fun action sequence, though. Again, the nerfs really help with making a "Goku gets attacked by ruffians" not feel out-of-place. The groundwork has been laid for why Goku can't just punch the air and shockwave them all unconscious in 0.5 seconds flat.

It also helps that Goku doesn't really seem threatened at all by these guys. Instead, he treats this as a training exercise to help him acclimate his body to the thick Makai #3 atmosphere.

So this isn't just a Random Encounter. There's a legitimate narrative reason for him to be fighting them that's in keeping with Goku's personality and character - and also consequences that the episode promises for next episode, too.

But the stakes and the tension are nonetheless kept at a level that seems appropriate for a fight between Goku and some bar thugs.

This is good. More of this, please.