#how this man can be dead. he was the definition of life; of strength; hope

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

working, listenin different news reports in the bg n crying w shock and happiness bc this is something so hard to believe

today's prisoner exchange are the good news i stopped believing would happen

[byeoltoyuki]

It was always you

↳ Pairing: Felix x Reader

❧ Genre : Fluff / friends to lovers / smut

❧ Warnings: unprotected sex / oral (m)

❧ Words : +2k

❧ Summary : Sometimes, a misunderstanding can lead to something much more interesting.

Waking up to gentle kisses being pressed to your shoulders, to your back worried you for many different reasons. First, when you went to sleep, you remembered clearly being alone in the appartement, Felix, your best friend who also happened to be your roommate was away, having a game night with his friends. Second reason, you remembered checking twice that you had locked the door (because you were that paranoid whenever left alone). But the main reason was definitely the fact that you were single, therefore there was absolutely no reason for someone to be in your bed, hugging and kissing you.

Panic surged through you as you tried your best to control your breathing, to control your heart, in hope to give yourself some more time to figure out who the hell was with you. Unfortunately for you, whoever was toying with you, kissed a spot right behind your ear – you jerked.

“Done with pretending being asleep?” You knew that voice. That deep, rough, terribly attractive voice. Too well. Which also meant that you were about to commit murder.

You snapped your eyes open. With as much strength as you could muster, you pushed him off you, only to pin him under you, pinning his wrists above his head. “You’re a dead man, I hope you know that.” But Felix only smiled sheepishly at you, not minding at all being at your mercy. In fact, he was more than enjoying the view of you on top of him.

“Hi, love.” Felix simply said, without trying to defend himself.

“The hell is wrong with you, Felix? I thought I was about to get killed in my sleep.” You let go of his wrists and straighten your back. You could have rolled over and free him, but chose not to. Maybe because you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t try something else; you knew Felix, he was a prankster and there was no boring day (or peaceful) with him. Or maybe, and you didn’t want to admit it, you simply enjoyed the view.

Your relationship with Felix was simple and complicated at the same time. Simple, because you had been friends for years. He was the only person who had seen you at your worst and stuck by your side, never judging, never questioning. He was the one constant in your life. He made your days so much better - he made you laugh; he made you smile. Felix, with his cute freckles, with his addictive laugh, with his voice that just didn’t match his boyish look (not so boyish anymore but that too, you refused to admit), felt like home. Maybe, it was the reason you accepted to move in with him.

But moving in with him was also what made your relationship so complicated. It was one thing spending time with him from time to time, but being stuck with him almost every day and every hour of the day, did make a difference. You discovered new facets of him that made you question your feelings. You found yourself seeking his company more than you used to. You found yourself staring at him more than acceptable. But the worst part of it was how your heart behaved around him. A brush of hands? Your heart would start beating crazily. A hug from him? And you would simply melt in his arms. A peck on your cheek? You wanted to cup his face and simply kiss him.

You were an idiot, you knew it. You couldn’t have done more cliché than that and fall for your best friend. But you did. And no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t, your heart and body reminded you of the truth.

Just like right now.

You cleared your throat and slapped yourself mentally for your very unwelcomed thoughts.

“You look pretty alive to me.” Felix commented, his eyes twinkled with mischief – you slapped his chest in response. “And violent, as always.”

Felix was being definitely weird. Or maybe just a little bit weirder than usual. It was one thing, he scared you, but was it necessary to hug and kiss your shoulders? Nope. But you couldn’t find the strength in you to ask him why he did it. “I thought you were staying with the guys?”

“It was the plan.”

“But?”

“But, Jeongin mentioned something.” To your utter surprise, Felix’s eyes darkened at the mention of his friend. Whatever Jeongin had told him, he didn’t like it. No, worse, it truly upset him. Should it worry you? Probably. You could count on the fingers of one hand how many times you saw him angry.

“What did he say?”

His mouth set in a hard line. Yep, Felix was angry. Just when you decided it was best if you went back to your empty side of the bed, Felix grabbed you by your hips, grip strong, fingers digging right into your flesh. He held you tightly, forcing you to stay on top of him.

You blinked, taken aback with his sudden gesture. “Felix, what did he say?”

“Don’t you have something to tell me?” He asked instead.

You did, but Jeongin knew nothing about it. Nobody knew.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. So how about, you just ask me what you want to know?” It was a tad frustrating to see him so upset over something you couldn’t understand.

Felix sighed. Without you expecting it, he flipped you over, your positions switched. Felix looked at you and despite the hurt and pain you saw in his eyes, you also saw a glimpse of something else. Something much more important and that made your heart skipped a beat. He was looking at you as if you were the most precious person in the world – a look you had never noticed before. Or were you just so oblivious?

“I can’t pretend anymore, Y/N.” Felix whispered, his own admission hurting him more than the look you gave him.

“Pretend?”

“I know it was my idea for you to move in with me. I thought that if you spent every day of your life with me, you would come to realize how much you mean to me. I hoped that you would start seeing me more than just a friend.”

Understanding dawned on you. All this time, all his small gestures, it wasn’t a coincidence. No, he was doing it on purpose, to make you realize. It worked; you were just too stupid to fully grasp his intentions.

“I was wrong. When Jeongin told me about you and Chris, I just wanted to go home and see you.”

“Me and Chris?” You interrupted him, too stunned.

“Aren’t you seeing him?”

“You got to be kidding me.” You groaned in both annoyance and embarrassment. You covered your face with your hands, couldn’t believe that Jeongin had misunderstood the situation. “You,” You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him toward you, face inches from yours. “Are a dumbass. And so am I.”

Felix blinked in confusion. Your proximity was making it hard to think.

“Chris went shopping with me last week to get you, dumbass, my best friend, who also happens to be the guy I like, a present.” You didn’t hesitate for even a second as you pecked his lips, to snap him out of his trance.

It worked. Felix’s face broke into such a bright and big smile – it hurt. “You like me?”

“Reconsidering it right now to be honest.” You teased him

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled and cupped your face before claiming your lips into a very needed and long due kiss.

You would be lying if you said you never imagined kissing Felix, because you did. Hundreds of times. But the reality was so much better. Nothing could compare to how heavenly his lips felt against yours. Nothing compared to how addicting his lips were.

“I like you so much.” Felix breathed against your lips. “So damn,” he kissed you again, “much.”

You broke the kiss only to flip him over and straddle his thighs. You pulled your shirt over your head and threw it on the floor, leaving you with nothing but your panties on. Felix inhaled sharply at the beautiful sight before him. Your beautiful bare, soft breasts. He just couldn’t resist the urge to reach out and touch. He cupped your left breast, gave it a squeeze – you bit on your lips to hold back your moan.

“You’re so beautiful.” He didn’t hesitate to straighten up to kiss your other breast, biting softly the tender flesh before his mouth was fully on your nipple. “So fucking beautiful.”

You plunged your fingers into his hair, pushing his face further against your chest. The feel of his lips, his every flick of his tongue, his warmth – it set your body on fire. Your whole body was aching, begging for more. You needed more.

You cupped his face, pecked his lips before grabbing the edge of his shirt and pulling it over his head. You ran your hand up and down his chest before pushing him back on the bed. Your hands splayed across his chest; you took a second to admire him. There was no doubt that Felix was beautiful, both from inside and outside.

You pressed your lips to his sharp jaw, to his neck. You slid down his body, slowly, trailing kisses as you went down. You made sure to memorize every inch of his skin, to leave tiny marks here and there so the two of you would remember that this was real and not just a dream.

With skilled fingers, you pulled at his sweatpants along with his boxer to free his aching, hard, pretty cock. You licked your lips at the sight, imagining already how good he would feel inside you, filling you.

You brushed your thumb over the tip, his cock twitched in response – Felix inhaled sharply, you would be the death of him and you didn’t even know it.

You dragged your tongue along his shaft, watching his every hiss, his every jerk, felt him hardening. “I hope that next time you doubt me, you’ll think back about tonight.” You kissed the tip of his cock, “You’ll think about how good my lips felt around your pretty cock.” With those last words, you took him into your mouth, eagerly, wanting to taste him, wanting to hear what kind of pretty noises he would make while you played with him. You wanted to see him lose himself.

Felix watched you through hooded eyes as you took him deeper and sucked. He growled, unable to hold back as you played with him, lips, tongue, hands – he had no chance to last. He always knew you were a sweet torture but right now it happened to be truer than ever.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He reached for your head, fingers digging into your scalp as he pushed you harder, making you take more of him. “I’ll never have enough of this mouth.”

By the way he was throbbing between your lips, you knew that if you kept your rhythm, he wouldn’t last. And as much as you wanted to see him come apart, it would be for another time. You pulled away, making him whine at the loss of your warmth. You pecked his lips, smiling at his reaction. “Next time. Right now, I need you inside.”

You grabbed his cock and guided him to your entrance. Slowly, you eased yourself down onto him, the stretch, the fullness of him making you sigh in pure bliss. Finally, you could feel him. All of him. Only when he was fully inside you, you stilled. Hands splayed across his chest, you threw your head back, taking a moment to adjust, a moment to enjoy the stretch.

“You feel so good.” Felix was fighting the urge to move, to thrust from his spot. But he did none of that. He waited for you to be ready. He waited for you to set the rhythm.

And you did. You started moving, slowly at first, wanting to feel the slow drag of his cock against your walls, clenching around him.

“Shit, don’t do that.” He begged but out of spite you did it again. “You’re such a fucking tease.”

“I learnt from the best.” That being said, you moved faster, alternating between bouncing and rolling your hips. The stimulation was slowly driving you crazy.

Felix’s hands and mouth were back on your breasts. Between the feeling of his cock, deep inside you, and his lips on you, you could feel your release, so close.

You plunged your fingers into his locks, playing with it while you moved. His cock reaching, stroking all the right spots, making you arch your back and mewl his name, over and over again.

“I won’t last.” You warned him

Felix’s hands found your hips, only to help you to move faster, bringing you over the edge. You came undone. You convulsed around him, your whole body trembling from your intense release. Felix kept thrusting, seeking his own release, fucking you through your orgasm.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He let out a harsh groan as he exploded inside you.

Felix had his head pressed against your chest, panting against your skin. You rested your chin on top of his head, hugging him closer to you, recovering together.

“I think,” Felix started and pulled away to look at you, smiling proudly and wickedly, “I should misunderstand you more often if it leads to that.”

You snorted in response and kissed his lips. His damn addictive lips.

“You better not, asshole.”

While the two of you were too busy embracing, your phone’s screen lit, showing one, single, message from Jeongin.

“You can thank me later.”

[luckydii]

A Delicious Feast

(Chapter 4)

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

❀

Rengoku rescues you from an unexpected attack. You repay him by making delicious meals that he gladly devours.

Later on, the man starts craving something else rather than your food.

❀

"The food smells delicious!" Mitsuri explained as she held the bento box close to her nose. "I know little Sukoshi made an effort on my plate." The small boy was absolutely adorable in her eyes. The relationship he had with you made her want something she's never thought about. Having kids.

"That boy really is something." Kyojuro chuckled. The conversation he had with Sukoshi kept replaying in his head. Marriage was a topic he would usually avoid, so it was definitely surprising when a nine-year-old decided to bring it up to him. Being a Hashira kept him away from getting into a relationship. Slaying demons at night, and recovering health in the day didn't give him enough time to socialize outside of the Demon Slayer Corps. He knew he wanted to start a family one day and grow old. Those were his two life goals. If you were willing to accept his proposal, he would try his hardest to make time just for you.

Every single day you hoped to see the flame hashira once more. You would wake up, and muster up the courage to speak to him, but sadly you were never greeted with warm tones. This routine kept going for about two weeks, and when the demon slayer finally decided to show up. You wanted to run away and hide.

Seeing him stand in front of the bar made you nervous. This time he wasn't accompanied by the pretty lady. Sukoshi noticed you stopping dead on your tracks, looking at Rengoku with an overwhelmed expression from afar. The boy gently grabbed your hand, startling you, but immediately feeling a sense of calmness flow over your body. His tiny smile gave you some strength. Okay, come on, you can do this. Even Sukoshi believes in you.

As you walked closer, Rengoku's head snapped at your direction like an owl. The sudden eye contact made you coward back, but your nephew was ready to hold onto you before you had the chance to run away. Right, you got this.

"(L/N)-San! Sukoshi! What a pleasant morning to see you both!"

"You're standing in front of our restaurant." Sukoshi said once y'all were close enough to him, tilting his head.

"Yes I am, my boy!" His loud laugh could be heard from the end of the street. Although it didn't stop it from being contagious. The little one joined in after a second.

"It's nice seeing you again, Rengoku-San." You bowed, staring at the ground a little too long to avoid the intense gaze that seemed to stare you down. Not intentionally, of course. Because of where you were looking at, you didn't even notice the man bowing back. He didn't like how your eyes weren't on him.

His hands met your shoulders. Even if they weren't bare you could feel his hardened palm filled with victories from wielding his sword so bravely. "Don't avoid me, please." His tone had gone soft for the first time around you. It made your cheeks warm. He knew exactly why you were denying eye contact. The little boy must have told you about what they were talking about the last time he came by. "I'm not avoiding you!" You said a little too loud, making your nephew look up at you with a crazy expression. It's like he was internally telling you "Real nice, Oba" with that little sassy tone of his.

Your lip twitched into a frown. All of that confidence you been storing for the past two weeks had been gone in a snap. You couldn't even look at the man in the eyes. "I'm not trying to avoid you, but..." You trailed off as you finally made eye contact with Rengoku. Those beautiful irises stared at you with wonder, begging for you to say what's on your mind.

Your lips forced themselves to seal shut. You couldn't do it. It wasn't as easy as you thought it would be, so instead you had to come up with something else.

"Would it be possible for you to stay until we close?" Your face was filled with heat. It wasn't like you were asking him out, so why were you so embarrassed to ask such a thing. A big smile plastered on his face, nodding his head in full agreement. "Of course, (L/N)-San!" He was just glad to be invited to what he was guessing a talk. You on the other hand didn't even know what to do. Were you just supposed to ask him out or what? Anxiety was rising in you.

Yet, again, Sukoshi came to the rescue. He tugged your hand, leading you to the inside of the restaurant, so you wouldn't stand in front of Rengoku any longer. You exhaled a big breath once you two got to the back of the restaurant. This was nerve-wracking, but at least you made small progress for the mean time. The boy looked up at you and patted the small of your back since that's what he could reach for. "You'll be okay, oba! I'll be there the whole day and night!" His reassurance did help you, although you didn't know what to tell him about the last part.

"Suko, I rather talk to Rengoku-san by myself tonight." This brought shock to the little boy. He tucked out his bottom lip. "Why?! I want to be there as well." You shook your head, and patted his hair. "No, Suko. This is going to be a talk between adults, you understand?" You traced small patterns on his head to distract him from your so-called betrayel.

"Yeah.." He quietly spoke while looking away. You sighed with a small smile forming on your lips. You crouch down to his height, booping his nose in the process. "I thank you for making this an opportunity for me." That's when Sukoshi's tiny pout turned into a wide grin. "You're welcome!"

When both you and your nephew entered through the back door, you were met with Rengoku once more, who had already made himself comfortable in the small stool. You felt slight intimidation, but you had to remind yourself. This man would never do anything to humiliate you or harm you in any way, right? This admirable man would never do such thing.

"What would you like to eat?" You asked, looking directly into his eyes.

The day went on like the usual. You served a whole lot amount of food while Sukoshi and him conversated. Customers had started piling up at your little restaurant a few minutes after Rengoku's appetite was finally satisfied. One thing both of the relatives always wondered was why did Rengoku constantly said "delicious!". It was rather strange, but it did bring you joy since he was showing his liking towards the meals. Oh, so that's what you thought.

"Rengoku-San why are you always saying delicious?" Gladly, your nephew took one for the team like always and tried to feed his curiosity.

Rengoku gave him the same planted smile he always wore. "I want to enjoy every meal before I die!" He said with such enthusiasm. Some customers stopped eating and stared at him from the corner of their eyes. You stopped cutting the onions and Sukoshi just stared at him with a mouth wide open. That immediately took a dark turn. 

"Huh?" Sukoshi frowned at the thought of Rengoku dying. "One never knows when they're going to die. As someone who's constantly in the battlefield I'm at a higher risk of dying. That's why I want to savor every meal before that happens." He gently smiled down at the boy whose bottom lip was trembling. Although, his little speech didn't have such motivation for your customers. They stopped eating midway, and now were staring at their plates. Well, gladly they already paid for it.

"But I don't want you to die! You can't!" He yelled while his hands turned into fists, as a tightening lump formed on his throat. The Hashira knew that if he spoke about being killed with honor, it would not make the situation any better, so instead, he made up a reason, one that only contained the truth. "No need to worry, Sukoshi. I shall use the conquering of your oba's heart as motivation to not leave this world yet." That made the situation worse, at least for you. You didn't even want to turn around just yet, it was impossible to ignore the intense pupils burying themselves on your figure. The good news was you no longer needed to ask him out. Rengoku made it clear he was going to win you over no matter what, even if he has the break the laws of life, and not meet the reaper with a deep wound in his body. The bad news... The customers had returned to eating their meals, happily listening to this week's brand new gossip.

Shit.

Throughout the day, your nerves were at their highest. You were completely aware you were the one that invited the man to stay until closing, but now that you were cleaning up the bar. It was difficult to calm the tension you felt. Ugh, why did you have to be awkward with men? Maybe it had to be with past experiences turning into bad results.

Once everything was properly cleaned, you had finally freed yourself from the thin knots of the apron you wore. Sukoshi had done that not too long ago, at the moment he was enjoying conversation with the male, and from what you caught, it had to do with the stories of his family. Apparently, he had a younger brother that won a few years against your nephew. Wouldn't it be fun for them to meet? Ha, if you do get married to this man, you'll already be giving him Rengoku's brother. The boy sounded rather timid compared to his extroverted older brother, so it would surely be a cute meeting between the two babies.

At last, you finally locked up the shop for good. "Are you boys ready?" You asked, walking towards them. They both nodded their heads, almost matching each other's enthusiasm. One was joyful to finally go home and rest, while the other was glad to exchange a few words with you alone.

As Sukoshi walked between the two adults, you couldn't help but gain a domestic feeling inside your chest. This is something you have always wanted, to have a husband and a child stepping alongside you. This warm feeling nearly made your tenseness loosen up. Keyword: 'Nearly'. The path to the (L/N)'s humbled residency was quiet, the only thing that could be heard were those of the tiny insects that roamed around the village, and the footsteps that were dragged against the path covered in dirt. The sunset was explicitly beautiful, the dark hue gently covered the orange rays of the sun. The colors brought slight comfort, earning the bravery to turn your gaze from the sky towards the male, and to your surprise. Rengoku was already looking at you with a smile. You were quick to break eye contact, forcing yourself to focus on the sky once again. Your heartbeat skipped a few beats as a blush hovered over your cheeks. Your panicked expression wasn't hidden from his sight, it brought out a chuckle, not helping your inner conflict at all.

A quiet sigh left your lips, seeing that everyone was standing a few feet away from your home. You stopped on your tracks, grabbing your nephew by the shoulder to put a pause in his steps. "Please wait here, Rengoku-San. I'll be back in a few minutes." You mentioned before nudging Sukoshi to say goodbye, but instead of bowing the boy went up to him and wrapped his arms around what he could reach, embracing him with a hug. He grinned towards the older man, speaking his farewell before letting go. Rengoku's pupils grew a shine to them as he stared down at him, a pure sight for sore eyes. He patted his head, unfortunately repeating the goodbye.

You paused as you and Sukoshi were right in front of the entrance. Crouching down, you cupped his face with both palms to catch his attention. "Sukoshi, you must promise me something. Do not tell anyone about Rengoku-San and I."

His eyebrow quirked with confusion. "But why? Obaasan would be so happy to hear you might get married soon." He wasn't technically wrong, your mother would be awfully overjoyed to hear the news of a man finally wanting to be engaged with you. "Yes, Suko, but.. y'know how she gets. She immediately spreads the word, and then.." That's how it was. When she made an announcement it's like these men were embarrassed to be known as a soon-to-be spouse for someone like you. It caused them to take back their words and leave you with unwanted heartache. "Well, what if Rengoku-San decides to change his mind? She would be devastated like the previous rejections."

"He's too nice for that."

"How do we know, Suko?"

"Because!-"

"Sukoshi." Your mouth hovered over his lips. His voice was getting loud, and you did not need your family to hear this conversation. "Just promise me that you're not going to bring this up to her or your mother. Please." Your hand left his face, holding up your pinky to complete the deal. The boy was obviously not happy about this, he wanted for you to trust his decision. There was no reason for you to doubt him. "Okay, Oba." He hooked his own pinky onto yours. A soft smile forming on your lips. Giving him a peck on his forehead, you mumbled a few words that made him bright right up.

"I love you, Sukoshi."

He pulled you into a tight hug, whispering, "I love you too, Oba." You knew that deep down he just wanted the best for you, but going through this was easier said than done. "C'mon. I'm sure you're hungry." After a full day of cooking, it was your mother that gave you the relief to relax as she put together a meal for the both of you.

Once the two entered the solace of their home, a greeting from your mother was immediately thrown your way. You quickly explained how you forgot to do inventory of the bar, and needed to go back to do it. "I'll try not to take long." You mentioned merely escaping her list of questions.

Hooray! You successfully escaped. Butterflies were summoned in your stomach as your eyes hit familiar irises. He held a smile that never seemed to leave his skin. It's simply a talk. Yeah.

❀

Taglist:

@queenmalhinewahine @kashasenpai @slutfor-fictionalmen @snowflakeanimelover @imaisbae @simpforerensattacktitan

Hey... hey y'all... How y'all doing..? 😭 Y'all will keep seeing my apologies since I can't keep a constant schedule. One thing that I do promise is that there'll be AT LEAST one update a year. Is it worth the wait? Idk. But to those who are still interested in this series. I love y'all and appreciate y'all mwah.

[fandomwritingbit]

Too good to be true

william afton x (fem) police reader

synopsis: A two part series about William destroying your life.

It's your first homicide case as a detective, a young child murdered with no tangible leads and you're eager to bring the evil bastard to justice. It's a lot of pressure though, and to much weight on your shoulders leads to questionable decision making.

warnings: child murder, smut, swearing, drinking, domestic arguing/marital problems. just generally mature themes.

A/n: As always this isn't steeped in fnaf lore, just purely from my silly little brain. I'm so glad to finally have this out and be back on here to obsess over men. Hope you like it Xx

“It’s okay, take your time.”

The social worker smiled kindly, hoping that the pleasant expression would hide how her heart was breaking at the words leaving this child’s mouth. It’s harrowing to hear, the topic of death should never be exposed to kids this young, at least not in the cruel fashion it had been mere hours ago. “We can take a break if you want, get a snack?” 

The little lad shakes his head, at only seven years old he knows it’s better to get the story over with. Never before had so many adults been so interested in what he has to say, this is serious. Even if he doesn’t understand what happened, he does understand the finality of it. The scary, definitive nature of what’s happened. He’ll never see his friend again. “Can I have some juice?” The boy asks quietly, his voice the epitome of innocence. It makes the social worker’s eyes sting. The lead officer smiles wryly. 

“Sure you can, Josh. Shall I go?” The lady switches her attention from the child to the pair of cops sitting across from them. 

“No, I’ll go.” You interject, not wanting you and your superior left alone with the weight of this child’s emotions. He hasn’t cried, but you can see the tears brimming beneath his surface. You look Josh in the face and try to speak as kindly as his companion, “Do you like orange?”

He just nods. 

…

The room was heavy in silence during your brief absence, you were only gone a couple of minutes, the vast majority of the time spent in thought over the canteen sink. You were promoted to detective only a year ago and so far the cases you’ve been assigned were of little intensity, drunken brawling, verbal domestics, thefts and robberies. And now a child was dead, murdered, and it has utterly devastated the community. But as upsetting as it is, this is an opportunity for career growth, even if you already feel out of your depth. 

The crime scene was brutal, the child laid in the outside storage of a restaurant, face down, multiple stab wounds. Blood smeared on the ground that your splatter analyst said horrifyingly suggests that the child dragged themselves closer to the door, only stopping when they no longer had the strength to continue. No murder weapon. There are no obvious suspects, every man and his dog within a 2 mile radius was pulled in for questioning. But the lack of witnesses and the hole in the chain fence leading to the area was a hindrance. The only lead you have is Josh because, unfortunately, he found the body. 

You bring the child his drink, handing it to him before sitting down next to the lead officer, mentally steeling yourself for questioning.

“So, Josh.” Your colleague begins, talking to children doesn’t come naturally to him, but you see him trying. “I asked you, what time did you last see the vict- Mary?” He corrects himself, but all three of you know what he was going to say. 

 “I’m not sure.” He answers in a tiny voice. 

He goes to ask again, sitting forward, but you stop him, cutting in to ask the boy in a different way. “I know you all sang happy birthday to the birthday boy at around half twelve. Did Mary get a slice of cake?” The social worker puts her hand on the little lad’s shoulder, whilst he thinks. 

After a moment, he says, “No. Auntie Carol asked if she wanted one but she wasn’t there.” 

“Okay, thank you.” You smile, before turning to the other officer, talking quietly, “Coroner said T.O.D was between 12:00 and 13:00.” 

He agrees, “So it’s looking closer to twelve.” 

~

There was a group of people waiting outside to be questioned, parents, staff, everyone who may have a shred of information and your precinct was struggling to manage it. The deceased’s parents have already been spoken to and ruled out, and so, in the main interview room another detective set about tackling the restaurant’s staff. 

“Mr Afton, we just have a few more questions to go over.” The middle-aged policeman lifts his gaze from his documents to look at the restaurant owner over the top of his glasses. He sees the businessman nod in response. There’s nothing to implicate this fella, no motive, no evidence, but he has a previous so caution was to be taken. 

With the question ready on his tongue, the officer sits back in the chair. “How often do people go out to the outside storage?”

He meets the man’s eyes, it’s not the first time he’s been under police scrutiny, probably won’t be the last, but the gravity of this investigation is severe. Not wanting to play any games he just divulges what the cop wants to know. “Frequently, we keep ingredients out there, and other supplies, people are always in and out.” 

“Even though it’s a fire escape?” There’s doubt in his face. 

William Afton reveals a small smile then, he can’t quite figure out what the copper is getting at, “Yeah, there’s a cinder block out there to keep it open. I disconnected the alarm a long time ago.”  

The policeman writes that down, it may go over the interviewee’s head but it’s an important question. The killer had to access the area somehow. And either they knew of the fire door and its cinder block or the gap in the fence. A crime of opportunity, from someone who knows the area well, that’s the takeaway. 

Looking up from the sheet, the DI asks another question, “And I understand that you and your partner are more handsoff with the day to day, but were you there at the party?”

“I oversaw arrival and seating.” Afton halts but the detective says nothing, it’s clearly unsatisfactory. “... There were two more kids than discussed, it caused some tension. I left Henry to deal with things.” He elaborates dryly, the tone indicates boredom but that’s to be expected after having waited hours for this conversation. 

“Tension?” The officer asks curiously, his eyebrows raised in a most provoking way.

William remembers to keep himself professional, maybe he could have worded that better. He tries again, “Well, it wasn’t ideal. Waiters had to set extra places and find more chairs. It was a fuss.” 

That seems to resonate better with the detective because he nods, some understanding written in his expression, Afton has to stifle the satisfaction that gives him. 

The copper consults his papers again before deciding he’s gotten enough, he stands, taking his glasses off and letting them hang on the chain around his neck. “Right, I’ll let you get back home. We have your contact information and we’ll be in touch.” 

With a tight-lipped smile, William follows suit, pushing the chair back and standing. An old impulse to stick his hands out for the cuffs being greatly fought, it was a different time, different station, different crime, but the same old William.

He shakes the detective’s hand, the standing difference of the two is almost comical but neither of them show any signs of amusement. He’s led out the cold interrogation room into the life of the precinct corridor, there’s a lot going on, a mix of uniformed and non officers and some of his staff still awaiting questioning. 

But before the policeman can get away, William let’s some curiosity free of its constraints. “Have you spoken to Henry yet?” The man meets his eyes, no longer as stoic as he was during the interview, the burden of inquisition must be a heavy one. 

“No. I’ll be handling staff enquiries. Your partner should be in later on. 4 o’clock I think.” William nods, and the officer now no longer concerned with him, heads off down the hallway. He should do the same, he’ll have to sign out, he remembers that from last time too. 

As he’s walking back towards reception, a door opens in front of him, a flash of cream walls and a green sofa, before a woman exists holding the hand of a small child that he recognises. He stands aside to let them pass, watching a male officer leave, followed by a female one: you. 

You hear the social worker's voice grow quieter as they leave you to lock the door, your keys jangling as you turn the stiff lock. Your mind is so engrossed in theories, you’re wanting to talk to DI Donnelly about the staff profiling and see if anything has come up in the way of a suspect. You’re so engrossed that you don’t think to look behind you before moving. 

The very moment you step out you collide with the hardness of a human body much bigger than yours. You stumble from the surprise of it, and large hands catch your waist to stop you tripping. It’s a very intimate way to touch someone and you gasp from the suddenness.

“Ay watch it, lady cop.” The bloke says, when you turn to see who you’ve just accosted, you see an older man with perhaps the most handsome crooked grin you’ve ever seen. 

Choosing to ignore the casual sexism of that you go for a, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” 

Cos you weren’t looking, he thinks to himself but doesn’t say anything aloud, you do look sorry and you’re cute. For a rozzer.  

“You’re alright.” He excuses you, raising his eyebrows. 

The only other thing exchanged was a mutual nod of regard before the man walked away towards the exit, leaving you to wonder what role he must play in all of this. 

~

William drives home without the radio, lost in a deep track of convoluted thought. He’ll reach out to Henry later, see if anything’s changed. He doesn't think it will, despite the taskforce on this case he thinks it’ll go cold pretty fast. Children capture the news interest every now and then but once the media has no evidence or case progress to get its hooks into, the case is dead in the water. Unless the parents have the money to keep pushing it.

He pulls outside his house, turning the engine off but not leaving immediately. He’s about to step into the circus here, no doubt his wife has been waiting in bated breath, anxious for any news. He sighs, he probably should have drove around a bit longer knowing she was holding her breath, maybe he’d have got lucky. 

He drags his feet on the mat before stepping inside, he hasn’t been outside today but it’s force of habit at this point, then he chucks his jacket towards the hook and closes the door. Sighing again, he sits on the second step to take his shoes off, already on edge at how quiet this fucking house is. She emerges as he reaches for the other shoe, arms folded over her chest like she’s already disapproving of something. 

“So? What happened?” Clara’s tone is brisk and strained thin. It sounds like she’s been crying, though he can’t imagine why when it’s him that has to face the bobbies. 

He scoffs, “They asked me some questions.” Everything about him is closed right now, and if she knew him at all she’d leave it for a while. 

“And?” She’s pissing him off, she’s too prickly to talk to like this. She’s worried, wants to know what’s going to happen, what is happening, but it’s not his responsibility to console her like some fretful little kid. 

“I answered them.” She scowls, how can he be like this, so indifferent? Like nothing’s happening, making her feel like she’s overreacting or going mad, maybe both. 

“For fuck’s sake, Will.” Her voice cracks with frustration and she pauses a second to regain herself. Immediately losing it once she begins speaking, “Do they know who did it? Do they have someone in custody? Will, when are they going to take the fucking body out of your restaurant?!”

He laughs a little then and stands from the stairs, “Why would I know that? The police will be taking care of that, or the coroners, I don’t fucking know.”

“Don’t know, or don’t care?” There’s tears streaming down his wife’s face and he can’t cope. 

“Does it matter?” He looks particularly harsh right now, a sharpness in his gaze and tone that’s like a razor and again her face twists in disgust. 

William rubs the bridge of his nose, allowing his eyes to close for a moment of respite from the headache only Clara can claw out of him. With a deep breath he bends down and picks up his shoes, moving then to pick up his coat from the floor where it landed. He’s not staying, not with her wound tight as a wire-trap and not in a good way. 

“What are you doing?” Her voice is quiet now, trying her hand at reasoning. He’s past that though. 

“Going out, I can’t deal with you now.” He doesn’t even put the shoes back on, just carries them out with him, shutting the door heavily behind him. Leaving her to her. 

~

It’s about to hit 8pm before you leave the station, it's been a long day but you hardly noticed what with how busy you’ve been. Your questioning didn't end with Josh, and even after talking to four other witnesses, you had your paperwork to do, then discussion with your colleagues. Everyone on the case has their own theories but at this point that’s all they are: theories. Nothing concrete and no real inclination into what to press next.

You change before leaving, knowing that you’re too restless to just go home, you need to be alone with your thoughts over a cold drink. So you get in your car picturing the hotel only a few minutes from your flat, the business-y one with the nice bar and the clientele that will leave you alone. That’s your ticket for that cold drink. 

Music plays as you drive there, a CD you’ve made compiling your favourite tunes, it should help take your mind off the horrors you’ve seen today but it doesn’t. You can pull yourself away from the crime scene, that poor child in the centre of it, nor the distant look in young Josh’s eyes. No matter how much you enjoy the song playing, it's just not enough to distract you. 

You park easy enough, a weekday night means that the car park isn’t completely full so you manage to get close to the entrance. Which you’re glad of when the moment your car door opens specks of rain tap your skin. Looks like the weather’s about as miserable as you feel. 

The hotel bar is all dark furniture and yellow lights, a soft, warm and dark oasis and you feel relief to step inside. It’s a swish bar, not the kind of place to get a pint, even if that’s what you’re craving, it’s a nice glass with a hefty price bar. And so as you approach the bartender you’re thinking of what you want.

There’s only a few stools at the bar, seven or eight at a glance, and they’re mostly full. A gap between two gentlemen both very focused on their drinks, but you don’t want to get chatted up right now, especially from either side. At the otherside there’s two empty ones but one has a jacket laid over it and a drink on the counter. But needs must. 

You sit, taking your coat off and laying it over your legs, smiling politely at the bartender. 

…

“There you are.” The barman reappears in front of you, setting your drink down on the counter, “That’ll be £3.30, please.” 

You scoff a little at that, mentally complaining about how the world’s gone mad with these prices, but you obediently reach into your bag for your wallet, a five pound note soon between your fingers. 

“Thank you.” Your hand is raised for your change, you’ll tip later, at this point you don’t know how many drinks you’ll be having. 

As the barman is digging around the till for your change the occupier of the seat beside you returns, neglecting to pick up his jacket in favour of sitting on it. You blank the man, receiving your change with a “Cheers,” for the bloke. 

You sip the drink through the little straw, it’s nice to be fair and just what you need after today. You’re ready to forget about it, but you’re becoming increasingly aware of the figure next to you looking at you, and any kind of scrutiny is too much right now. So you turn to it, and you recognise the man immediately. 

The man you’d bumped into earlier, who you’d since found out a lot about from his interviewer.

“Well, if it isn’t the lady copper. What are the chances of that?” There’s a casualness to his tone and posture that suggests he’s perhaps nearing the point of one drink too many. That’s what prevents your usual curt response of ‘just copper is fine’.

You don't smile, don't show any signs of the polite mannerisms he’d expect, just look at him objectively and he can tell you’re analysing the shit out of him. “Oh I remember you.” You start plainly, wanting to get back to the solitude you came here for. “By which I mean, I have since found out who you are.” It’s designed to be standoffish, encourage him to keep to himself, and play to what you learned about the man from his record: he shouldn’t like the police. 

It doesn’t work though, the glasses of whiskey he's had tonight make the very blunt and sober way you’re talking to him more than amusing. And it shows on his face, “Ah someone’s been through some files.” The ways he’s grinning irks you, but if this was any other day in any other place you’d be swivelling yourself around to talk properly to the attractive man beside you. “Bumped into me and had to find out more, I get it.” 

Your expression remains stern, he must be drunk as a lord or at least confident as one to say that. “I recognised your… photograph; the man who walked into me and called me ‘lady cop���.” He owns the restaurant the victim was murdered in, he’s a key figure in this case, you shouldn’t really be talking to him at all, let alone in a bar. But your drink was expensive and you’re not going to fucking leave it. “William Afton.” You say his name offhandedly, no feeling on it, but he still likes how pretty it sounds off your tongue. 

“You can say mugshot, darling, I’m aware I have one.” He snickers at the look on your face, you were trying to preserve him some dignity in your wording, so much for that. The bloke sticks out his hand for you, “Just William will do it.” 

You take his hand before your mind can overcome your manners, introducing yourself as, “DC L/n.” He has a firm handshake, much more respectable than the bitten down nails on his larger than most hands. Then again, he’s a larger than most fella, sat next to you now his feet are completely rested on the floor, whereas yours are tucked neatly on the bar of the stool. 

He chuckles at the formality, fucking Detective Constable, you really aren’t budging off your high horse, are you? Normally he’d give up on someone being this clearly closed off with him, but not tonight. He’s starved of the chatter and drink has alway made him want to make new friends, especially when they're as cute and grumpy as you. You need cheering up, and he needs the challenge.

“We’re not at the station now, love. What’s your name?” He watches the frown on your face grow that little bit stronger and has to hide the smirk on his face behind the rim of his drink. 

“It’s definitely not ‘love’.” Your voice is firm and you let the silence that follows it sit for a few seconds. But then you consider who you’re doing this for. It’s not yourself, you don’t want to be rude to anyone, let alone a tipsy person who probably doesn't know how annoying he’s being. You’re not doing it for work, there’s no boss here to remind you of your conduct, there’s been no suggestion of his involvement, even with the previous convictions. So why not take your mind off things with some meaningless conversation?

You sigh, then tell him your first name.  

“So… is this your regular?” You ask the cliche question in some effort to force yourself into normality, thinking about any other way to ask him if he comes here often, hoping he won't catch on to how his answer might impact if you come back here again. 

His eyes narrow at the change in your manner, but he goes along with it, “No. No, I’m just taking a break from domestic bliss.” The words are sarcastic enough that you gather their meaning easily, unhappy at home, coming out to get away from it, it’s fair enough. You nod, mentally clocking the silver band on his left hand and chiding yourself instantly. That’s not the kind of distraction you came here for. 

“And what has you here?” He can take a guess, a long, bloody day at work, sufficient to make most people thirsty, but curiosity nips at him, he wants to know how senior you are, what your role in the whole shitshow is. More than that he wants to know what’s come of the police’s incessant questioning, and what ammo they have.

An incredulous laugh leaves you, “Just the joy of work, you know. A lot of difficult things to think about- I already know I’ll never sleep tonight.” You’re only half joking, even with a few more g&ts you don’t see yourself getting any rest. 

You sip your drink, realising all of a sudden that you’re not far from needing another. And as you pull the glass away the man beside you says, “Oh, I could help you with that.” 

Turning to him straight away, you’re practically scowling. What a thing to fucking say. 

At your disdainful expression he adds, through a wicked smirk, “Night nurse- you know the little bottle? That usually sorts me out.” All his suggestiveness dropped, and now you look silly for overreacting. 

“Aren’t you funny.” Despite the palpable sarcasm on the words you are smiling, just a little, you can’t help it, your facade draining faster than your gin. You swirl the liquid around, thinking over your words before you say them, you know better than the harmlessness of this, even if you wish you didn’t. “You’re being awfully chummy with me and I’m not sure why. I can’t and won’t tell you about the case.” 

You try to hold back the sharp edge of those words but even said nicely they’re cutting. 

It doesn't faze him though, and he leans a little closer like he’s jokingly telling you a secret. “I’m half-cut, lovely. I’d be chummy with anyone sat here, especially if they need cheering up as much as you do.”

You let your expression soften a bit, there’s a relief from what he said that there shouldn’t be. “Based on your file, I’d have thought you’d sooner switch seats than sit next to me.” You smirk as you speak, teasing but it’s based in truth. 

“Oh calm down.” He’s shaking his head at you, “I’ve nowt against the police, it’s only a job. Until today I hadn’t seen the inside of a police station for going on 20 years. It sounds like you’re the one with prejudices.” He’s openly mocking you now, and you can see why, but he can say what he likes, it doesn’t change what you read. 

The officer’s scrawl was plain to see: ‘Fucking filth’ he said to PC Markham, right before headbutting him, adding assault of an officer to his other charges. 

“You don’t think people can change then?” He asks, more seriously than anything else he’s said tonight. 

You think about it, going over both sides of the argument in your head whilst he waits expectantly. You arrive at, “I think… If they want it enough, then yeah.”  

He shrugs then, back to wearing a striking grin, “Well, don’t worry then. I’m good at getting what I want.”

Yeah, I’ll bet you are, you think, trying to hide the thought from your face. Opting to only say, “You’re insufferable.” under your breath.

“No, just drunk. I think I need a water.” There’s a new self-deprecation to his tone and it amuses you. WIlliam glances at your empty glass and already knows you’ll be having another. He likes this back and forth, it’s good fun, much more entertaining than the chat he’d be having at home right now. 

He leans forward a bit to catch the bartender's attention, “Will you get us another one of these and a water, thanks mate.” He slides your glass forward for the man to see and he nods, going about the order. 

“Oh, you were serious.” You say, partially to yourself, it’s hard to tell with this man. That’s probably the trouble.

He sits back, “Yeah, I’ll have to keep myself sharp if you’re sitting with me, sweetheart.” 

You grin, yeah there’s the fucking trouble. 

~

You don’t know how another drink turned into three. And how three turned into you watching him get a hotel room, his elbows on the desk as he talks to the receptionist. And how that turned into keys in his pocket, the two of you getting in a lift. And then your hands pulling on his shirt to get him close enough you can kiss him, his tall frame pressing you against the wall of the lift. 

You don’t think about how stupid this is as you’re doing it, you’re too distracted by the heat of him and the all encompassing way his tongue is in your mouth. You moan into the kiss, knuckles taunt with his shirt fabric balled up in them. You’re not drunk, you know what you’re doing. The alcohol isn’t affecting your judgement, it’s only making your blood warm and helping stoke the heat flickering in your core.

He doesn’t hesitate in touching you, neither of you worried about discovery, hands on your hips soon sliding low and squeezing your arse. You gasp a little as his touch brings you to your tippy-toes. The kiss is broken and has your lips tracing down his jaw, on his neck then shamelessly sucking his earlobe. You can feel how much he likes that digging into your stomach and your body rings with want. 

His hands are under your shirt before the lift stops, doors opening to reveal a man waiting, a suitcase by his side. You push the man off you, struggling not to laugh, especially when a quick glance reveals that William is. Hot in the face, you right yourself as the man drags his case into the small space, your skirt pulled back down and shirt buttoned back up.

“Uh we’re still going up, mate.” William says, snickering. 

“Only one floor.” The man responds bluntly, clearly not wanting any interaction with the two degenerates he’s just uncovered. 

You share a look with William, that has you pressing your lips together to stifle laughter. He looks very dishevelled, you hand’t noticed quite how hard you’d been going at him, his shirt is creased and his hair is a fucking mess. God knows what you look like. 

It seems to take a long time to go up one floor, but the very second the doors open you and William are quick to leave. 

“What a nice chap.” He sniggers and you can finally laugh away some of that embarrassment, how stupid the both of you are, but nothing to be done now. The only compromise you can make now is to keep your hands to yourself until you’re in a more private setting, but that’s easier said than done when your core is tight with need. 

Following his form, you try to take mental note of how to get out of here, so many beige corridors to wind around before you’re standing in front of the room this near stranger has purchased. You watch him put the key in the lock and for just a moment you listen to your mind. It’s not a good idea, it’s unprofessional, inappropriate and a host of other things but you’re warm between your legs and the want to continue what was interrupted outweighs reason. 

He lets you inside before him and you turn to catch his eyes low on your body, making you grin unwillingly. It’s a nice room, as swanky as the bar downstairs, long flowy curtains shrouding huge windows and a load more pillows on the bed than necessary. 

William looks around the room more pragmatically, he wants another drink and there’s got to be something in here, a fancy place like this always has opportunity to spend more money. There’s an odd cabinet a good distance from the foot of the bed, and when he opens it lo and behold an incognito fridge. “You want another drink?” 

You look over to William on his knees looking at what you quickly realise is a minibar, curiosity brings you closer and the prices make you wince. You don’t know how this man has it in him to drink, you’re tipsy enough just standing there. “You trying to impress me or something?” You say laughing, “Surely the room was pricey enough.”

He shrugs and gets to his feet. A black labelled bottle placed on the counter, he can’t decide what he wants to indulge in first because you are looking very tempting.  You see a look of mischief pass over his face before he says, “Well, in for a penny, in for a pound… which you absolutely are, love.” He delivers that with the smarmiest smirk you’ve ever seen, and a disbelieving laugh escapes you, it’s needlessly full-on but embarrassingly it does work in making heat between your legs flicker back bright. 

Still somewhat taken aback you just say, “...You’re shameless.” 

It just makes him chuckle, as the evenings gone on you’ve only gotten easier to fluster. “Oh and you’re so prim and proper?” That’s clearly amused him because his tone is dripping with sarcasm. You maintain your eye contact with the man, trying to curb excitement in your blood, you’re aware he’s gotten much closer to you and the prospect is delicious. “I don’t think so, no with how you accosted me in that lift, there for anyone to see.” 

He doesn’t need to add ‘And someone did see,’ because that grimy feeling has again caught up with you, you look away then, trying not to think about how disgusted that man looked earlier. It sucks because your usual level-headedness has shagged off and you seem to be making a lot of questionable decisions. 

You’re speaking before the embarrassed thoughts are coherent, “Well, I- That’s not something I’d… normally…” You trail off because of the clear enjoyment on his face.

“Come on, are you a police officer or a fucking nun?” He teases, “Looking so ashamed. You do know what we’ve come up here to do, right?” 

The mockery gives you a hit of bravery, and you shrug, “Yeah. I’m just waiting for you to stop talking.” You give the last words heavy exasperation and watch that achingly handsome grin slowly spread on his face. 

He listens to you. 

It’s criminal how eagerly you’re pulling at his clothes, struggling with buttons as dexterity is lost in your fingers to the way your body is reacting to his. There’s little elegance, only your tongue back in his mouth as your shirt is taken off, then your body pulled away from the wall behind you to let him unhook your bra. It’s quick but you still resent how long it’s taking to get what you want. 

He’s playing with your breasts, squeezing the soft flesh before tugging your hardened nipple between his fingers, it pulls a gasp from you. You’re giggling a little as his action makes it harder to concentrate on what you’re doing. You finally manage to pull the shirt from him, leaving it to crumple on the floor. His body feels good against yours, firm and hot, hair on his chest that you rake your fingers through, leading all the way down to his belt. 

His touch is everywhere on you except where you want it most, taking in your curves and again grabbing a handful of your behind. You’re restless, rubbing your legs together for a fraction of the friction your core is demanding, all this fleeting touch is mounting into impatience. William notices and you feel the movement of his hands up to your waistband, where they skirt teasingly around. 

You moan some encouragement into his mouth, tilting your hips for better access. But he pulls away from you, smirking to himself. “Take your skirt off for me, love. I’ve tried but for the life of me I can’t find the zip.” 

Despite your impatience, you can’t help but laugh, clearly pride had kept him silent for a fair while. “Here then.” You say through your amusement, placing a hand flat on his chest and pushing him lightly, guiding him a pace and a half back until he gets the hint to sit on the bed. 

From there he watches you half dressed as far as your waist as you catch hold of the zip on the side of your pencil skirt and pull it down. You step out of it, leaving your shoes under the fabric, a smug expression on your face. He looks good sitting there and a guilty thought flickers through your head at how lucky his wife is. 

That thought is cut short when he says, “Come here.” Not giving you much choice when he catches your wrist and manoeuvres you himself, your panties still on but the wet patch on them somehow more revealing than you imagine being fully nude will be. 

“Damn.” He grins, leaving you standing before him, his hand tracing the waistband of your knickers before sliding between your legs. You let him, spreading your stance for his access. He follows the shape of your pussy over the material, watching how it clings to your heat. Soon after he slides under the fabric and toys with the abundance of slick waiting there.

You moan at the static sensation buzzing in your core, it’s exactly what you wanted but still a lot and you have to steady yourself on his shoulders. He finds your clit and begins to draw patterns over the nerves that soon have your legs weak. He brings your end into your sights before altering the movement, and the whiplash is near devastating. He snickers when a disapproving frown rests on your face, adjusting his position to press his fingers inside you, willing to give you what you want. Fucking his fingers in and out of you he keeps up with the stimulation on your clit, the pace only quickening when your grip tightens on his shoulders. Your peak rises fast and you fall over it, walls fluttering tight around his digits as your climax washes over you, pulling some desperate noise out of you. 

Before your legs are even steady again, you’re desperate for more. So you push him back on the bed, bending down to tackle his belt buckle. The bulge in his trousers is practically taunting you and you’re eager to feel more and think less. 

WIlliam’s voice pulls you from your inept action. “Demanding, aren’t we?” He mocks. 

You look at him as levelly as you can, your pupils big from your fading pleasure. You know the answer before you speak, “Do you want me to stop?” 

He doesn’t say anything, only reaches down to help you take off the belt, pulling the trousers down and holding you steady so he can lean and shove them off. You take hold of his hardness, now only hidden by his underwear, revelling in the soft grunt that leaves him. He’s deliciously thick in your hands and drunk on it you straddle him, now palming him between your legs. Only now do you think about the condoms in your handbag, knowing you should pull away from him and retrieve them. But that rationale is drowned out by your cunt drooling, begging for immediate stimulation. 

Your touch isn’t enough for him, he just wants to feel your warmth wrapped snug around him, so he acts, flicking your hands aside to free his dick. He sits against your stomach, thick and long and almost instantly you’re sliding your slick along him, pussy twitching in anticipation.

His hand on your hip moves you back so he can line himself up with your hole, no more play, no more teasing. He guides you down, a small gasp leaving you as he presses inside. It’s more than you thought and your walls burn with the stretch of taking him; you still yourself for a moment, thighs hovering just above his whilst you try to get used to the fullness of accommodating him. Your respite is cut short when he starts to thrust up into you, sniggering at the surprised moan that escapes you and how your body is almost trying to run away from him. He holds you still, lost in the perfect way your cunt is swallowing him. Soon you’re taking him properly, riding him deep with stuttering breath, pathetic noises leaving you when his cock pressed against the spot inside you that makes you crumble. You’re so focused on your imminent pleasure sparking into life sharpish, you nearly miss the change in the man below you. 

“Fuck- that’s it.” He groans, his hands roaming your body. You’re doing the majority of the work, bouncing on him so fucking perfectly and grinding your bundle of nerves against him. Your fluttering walls are telling but he’s hanging onto his edge by a thread, just enough sense about him to help speed up your climax. 

You jolt when he suddenly begins rubbing your clit, his hand splayed on your abdomen. It’s a lot and you’re holding on to him tighter and tighter, fingernails digging harder and harder into his shoulders until you’re falling into the waves of bliss. Your back arches as you come, each pulse of your climax making you shiver. Your cunt squeezes around him tight and just like that he’s gone. He thrusts into you a few more times, pushing his release deep inside you,  the pace inconsistent as he rides it out. 

Both of you still, and you listen to his quickened breath as your pussy still flutters around him, you’re all over goosebumps but you hardly notice, too focused on the warmth trickling around him and settling between your legs. 

~

You don’t stop there. You get next to no sleep, spending the rest of the night clutching the headboard, then with your face buried in the dishevelled sheets. Later with your leg hooked over the hips of this man, dirty words dripping from your lips pushing him to give you more. Hours spent having easily some of the best sex you’ve ever had. Until the two of you have no more to give. 

It’s still dark, but a look at your watch tells you the day’s not far from arriving and so, you move. Taking yourself from the disordered bed and into the cool of the room. Your clothes are strewn all over and you begin to gather them one by one, aware you’re under the scrutiny of the man you’re leaving behind. 

You’re halfway through putting them back on when William decides he should probably do the same. You watch from the corner of your eye as he stands up unashamedly naked and even after you’ve had your share you still appreciate the sight, which you then realise he was probably doing to you before getting up.  

He moves to pick up his underwear, wincing through his teeth at the action, making you turn towards him with pinched brows. You see him raise his arm up and run his hand along his shoulders, his expression difficult to read. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask with uncertainty, a part of you thinking that there’s no way he’s as sore as you are, you feel like you’ve spent hours on the bucking broncos. 

“Wait-” He sounds confused but when he turns to walk over to a mirror on the wall your eyes go wide with understanding. You’ve left your mark on him alright: long scratches on his shoulders and back, each bringing back a memory of the night’s activity. 

When he sees, his instant reaction is to laugh but fucking hell, it’s pretty bad. How the hell hadn’t he noticed? 

You have a hand over your mouth, partially in shock, partially to hide the incredulous laughter begging to be shown. “Oh god, I’m sorry.” You say, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your giggling to yourself, “I didn’t-”

“That is…” He cuts you off unintentionally, chuckling in disbelief as he looks from the mirror to you, then back again, “unambiguous… What the fuck am I supposed to tell my wife?” 

You snort. “I don’t know. Shit. I didn’t think I… did that.” You hadn’t even thought about it, about how all traces of you on this man are liable to destroy a marriage, though to be fair, you’re not often a homewrecker. 

“Well, it was definitely you, sweetheart. Shit.” You’re lucky that he’s found this amusing and not gone the other way, but his marriage is dead on the rocks anyway, if Clara showed any interest in taking his shirt off he’d be looking around for a hidden camera.

…

You and William part ways soon after, part of you wanting to see him again, the rest knowing that that’s probably not a good idea. But the morning seems to be running away with itself and you don’t have time to think about it, it’s already nearly 7am and you've got to be at the station by 9. 

That doesn’t stop you from reliving the night over and over during your commute though.

As good a time as you’ve had you can’t shake the feeling that it was perhaps too good to be true.

If you made it to the end, thank you sm, you guys reading my stuff is my motivation to keep being excessively horny x

[ch3rriiii-bunn]

Hello! I’m new to the demon slayer fandom and I’m in love with the upper moons (specifically Douma and Akaza) haha.

I was wondering if I could have some headcanons for each of the upper moons + Muzan and what their s/o would be like? Like personality wise, what would their s/o act like, or what would make them fall for their s/o? If that makes sense?

Thank you very much! If you don’t feel comfortable writing that, that’s totally fine! I really enjoy your writing!!

Their type♡

AS YOU SHOULD!! I've been in the Fandom for so long I'm glad more ppl are loving the upper moons omg. Also thank you so much!! Hope u like this one♡♡♡

Warnings: mention of manga spoilers, gender natural reader, mention of killing

Akaza

Akaza type of s/o is someone who's kind and gentle. Having a person or even a demon show akaza genuine kindness wasn't always on his side even as a human, so he seeks out someone who can give him genuine kindness and have a gentle approach and not a hostile one.

Akaza's love language is acts of service. He wants to take care of his s/o, protect them, and be there for them mentally and physically. A love language he'd want in his s/o are words of affirmation

Akaza loves to be told he's appreciated for the things he does, praised and even admired for what he does.

Akaza falls for his s/o because he admires their strength. Man or woman doesn't matter, He hates weak humans and finds them better off dead and would gladly do it himself but when meeting his s/o for the first time in a fight they never gave up and saying powerful words like "my weakness of being human is what makes you strong"

Akaza can't help but love a strong human, and finding an s/o is strong is definitely the way to make him catch his heart

Douma

Douma hasn't really given it much thought on what he likes in his s/o personality, but one thing douma happens to get in everyone around him is someone who's more straightforward and direct.

Douma maybe all jokes and giggles and not seem to have a care in the world but he likes to have a person in his life who can clarify mistakes and even call out his own even if it makes him upset.

Doumas love language is gift giving. He'll listen to the things his s/o likes and will buy or even try to craft the things his s/o likes and give gifts at random. A love language he'd like in his s/o is someone who can communicate which can fall under quality time

Douma deep down needs a person to sit down and understand him even if his words and mindset can be unusual but even so he wants to know there's someone out there who can love douma for his flaws of having a lack of understanding feelings

Douma falls for his s/o because of how understanding they can be and can solve out a problem logically without bashing him or judging him.

Kokushibo

Kokushibo's type of s/o is someone like him, but also have a humorish side to them. Someone who is mature and relaxed but also doesn't mind when his s/o wants to tease or bother him

Kokushibo's love language is quality time. A love language he'd want in his s/o would be physical touch

Kokushibo is a quiet man. He only speaks unless spoken to, most of kokushibo and his s/o times together, whether they're both on night walks or even sitting in the same room, no talking always needs to be involved, just kokushibo having his s/o by his side holding his hand or hugging him is enough

Kokushibo falls for his s/o because they genuinely enjoy his company. Despite him being the strongest upper moon even he needs someone to stay by his side and not find him boring or toss him aside for someone eles

Muzan

Muzan's type of s/o is someone who is submissive. Someone who follows what he says down to the letter and not question any of his decisions. Muzan's tone of voice wouldn't change with his s/o and speak to them like how speaks to others but would sometimes have a more gentle approach, depending on the situation

Muzan would want an s/o whose love language is expression of affection and love. He expects to be loved and admired from his s/o and have his s/o show how their love for him also comes with loyalty. Muzan loves when his s/o kisses his hand when he's achieved something, hugs when you complement how healthy and strong he looks every day

Muzan's love language is physical touch. As scary and dominant as he can be, when it's time for him to lay down or even sleep, he wants to have his s/o in his arms. If he's having a meeting with his upper ranks, he won't allow his s/o leave but instead sit his s/o on his lap with his hand on his s/o waist while having the meeting.

Muzan fell his s/o because of their understanding of his fear of death. He knew he was a coward and how brutal he could be to save his own skin, but someone who could somehow understand his twisted ways made him his heart skip a beat

Nakime

Nakime's type of s/o is someone who is artistic and passionate about it. Nakime isn't picking with arts, but her s/o just has to be into some kinda arts like herself to bond over it

Nakime's love language is quality time, and she'd want an s/o whose love language also loves quality time. She would want someone to listen to her biwa playing and acknowledge her for her musical skills rather than her blood demon art for just being useful to muzan.

Nakime would like if her s/o is talkative. Someone who keeps the conversation going when she wants to talk about her interests and even listen to her s/o interests.

Nakime fell for her s/o because they wanted to hear her music. It is Canon that Nakime used to make music in her past life as a human, so when you listened to her music and praised her talents it made her it made her fall in love instantly

[inquisitornocturn]

⊱─ 𝕚𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕦𝕤 𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Cazador Szarr x f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - e, dead dove: do not eat, smut, non-con, dub-con, PiV, creampie, fear, degradation (mild), praise kink, the beginning is definitely non-con so read at your discretion

➺ 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: the promise of immortality, it has a pull you cannot resist. you have to try and gain it, to be given the eternal gift. without much thinking you find yourself in Szarr palace but when you are in front of the Lord himself - your resolve begins to weaken. you can try changing your mind but Cazador won't let you escape.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 4,125

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: who's better to explore darker concepts with than Cazador lol. and well, i do find him extremely alluring so enjoy, i hope you will, because i did enjoy writing this <3 i̶ ̶a̶m̶ ̶a̶b̶s̶o̶l̶u̶t̶e̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶n̶o̶r̶m̶a̶l̶ ̶a̶b̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶m̶a̶n̶

“Stupid little girl, do you have any idea what you wandered into?” a voice reaches you, it carries an edge like a razor’s blade and makes you immediately uncomfortable. It’s higher in pitch than most male voices you’ve encountered, but somehow it’s the most unsettling one you have heard in your life.

No, he’s wrong, you know exactly what you wandered into.

A Vampire’s Lair.

When you turn and face the man who silently approached you without you noticing, you find yourself standing in front of him – the immortal Cazador Szarr. His towering figure seems to be looming over you even with considerable distance between you. His slicked black hair and piercing red eyes that carry a glow make a cold shiver run down your spine. He watches you with a look you have seen on predator animals before. It makes your skin crawl and your palms sweat.

Have you been stupid to come here? Is this what you really want?

“I… I…” you begin, your lower lip quivers and you can’t hold his eyes anymore, casting yours down. You’re absolutely terrified. You heard the stories.

Stories of immeasurable cruelty, stories of flayings, stories of eviscerations, stories that you heard from his own spawn when you met one of them in a tavern a month or so ago. But that seems like a small thing compared to why you came here.

You want immortality, no matter the cost.

And perhaps stupidly you have a slim hope that maybe you can persuade the Vampire Lord not to treat you horribly. If you serve him willingly, even enthusiastically by offering yourself, then maybe he won’t do those horrible things to you that he so gleefully inflicts upon others.

“Speak up, girl!” Cazador’s voice feels like a whip on bare skin and you flinch, closing your eyes for a moment, trying to gather your strength. You have to at least try to bargain, if not, this hallway will witness your death.

“Lord Cazador I…” you swallow dryly and open your eyes, looking down at the carpet beneath your feet. You wish you could melt into it and disappear completely.

And why is he treating you this way? His servants let you in, told you were to find him, of course he has been informed that you’re here, was he not? Why is Szarr asking you why you wandered in here, it wasn’t by accident, it was not! You remind yourself of your desperate goal, of your own heart beating in your chest, you want it gone, you want to be eternal. Surely people have done stupider things to achieve immortality, surely there’s people who have been in your situation. Or worse.

Cazador’s footsteps are muffled by the carpet but they sound as loud as drums in your ears. You still can’t lift your face, your whole body is trembling and you ball your fingers into fists just to have any sense of control but it feels futile the moment you see noses of vampire’s boots stop in front of you.

“Look at me.” a command, one that has to be obeyed, Cazador sounds like a man who is used to people obeying to him and you are sure this is not just your imagination. How long as he been immortal? Two centuries, three? Maybe more? This man in front of your shaking form has been controlling his coven for more than some cities last.

Yet you follow his command, but not without strain. Your neck muscles feel like they are so tense they will snap the moment you move but you do so anyway, lifting your face up, your eyes trailing up Szarr’s body slowly. You don’t want to meet his eyes, they terrify you and yet you have to. If you still have half a mind to bargain with this imposing Lord, you have no choice but to face him.

Fabric of his black pants, a dark grey shirt draping over the belt, his open dark doublet richly embroidered with red metallic thread strangely looking like rat tails, the rings on his fingers that you catch a glimpse of, one of them bearing the Szarr family crest, his shirt open down to his collar bone, his unnaturally pale skin, a smirk tugging at his lips, a sharp line of his nose and then… your whole body shudders when you meet his eyes again, still carrying that scarlet glow that makes your knees weak and your body tense. Your fists continue to tremble by your sides and you know he sees it.

“Tell me, girl, why are you here?” Cazador is towering over you, it feels like he’s casting a shadow over you made from eternal void. You try to swallow but your throat is dry.

“I…” you stammer again, godsdamn it get a grip on yourself your mind yells at you and you inhale before trying to continue. “I wanted to… ask a favor.” it sounds silly, stupid even, you chastise yourself for not thinking through beforehand on what to say.

“A favor, hm?” Szarr lifts an eyebrow in curiosity. At least he’s not killing you right away, you count that as a success.

“Yes, please, just hear me out.” now you rush to speak, you don’t want to lose what it seems your only chance to actually talk to him, maybe even get what you came here for.

“Hear you out?” a pause as the Vampire studies your face, appraising you like you’re just another painting or a luxurious chair, you barely notice that you’re digging your nails into your palms, the pain is short, you broke the skin.

The moment it happens Cazador’s eyes immediately snap to your hands and he reaches out, taking your wrist and lifting your hand to your chest level.

“What’s this?” Szarr asks and you obey even without a command, you open your fingers, your palm slightly bloody, but you don’t see that, all you can see is the hunger that flares up in the Vampire’s eyes, for a brief moment making him look feral rather than a distinguished Lord of his palace.

And then he smirks, widely, his eyes flicking back to you.

“Very well, we shall talk.” when Cazador speaks you glimpse his fangs and your heart leaps in your chest. The promise of immortality, so close you could touch it, only if you were stupid enough to risk your life, that is.

But you’re not that brave or stupid, so when Vampire Lord releases your wrist you pull your hand to your chest and watch him turn on his heel, walking away.

“Follow.” another command as if you’re a dog rather than a person but you trail after him anyway. Your steps feel shaky and unsure, but you glance down at your palm and wipe the blood onto your hip, feeling slightly more relaxed now.

While you follow Szarr to wherever he’s leading you, you take your time to glance around. Paintings decor the walls and you can’t say that the imagery in them is a pleasant one: devils and undead, scenes of what could be either murder or coitus. You realize with sudden shock that if you do tell Cazador what you want from him - you most likely will remain between these walls forever. The back of your neck begins to sweat and you look around some more, taking in the view of candles and chairs, the wallpaper and carpets.

This place might become your home.

Before your panic starts to build your attention is drawn by Cazador stopping and opening a door at the end of the hallway. He walks in first and you follow him with your resolution to ask him that favor melting with each step.

What were you thinking…

“Close the door.” a softer tone, almost casual and you do as he says. When you turn back you watch Cazador walk to his desk and stop there, as if thinking, then turn to you. “Come closer.” Another almost gently sounding phrase and you walk towards him with your heart at your throat, your mind is reeling but you can’t stop yourself.

You feel like you’re walking into a lion’s den with each tentative step.

You keep respectable distance when you stop in front of the Vampire Lord and keep your eyes at his chest. No, you can’t look him in the eyes again, not right now.

“You spoke about asking me a favor, girl. What is it that you want?” Cazador sounds smug - you don’t see his taunting smirk and you’re not aware of his mocking look cast upon your face that is drained from blood in fear.

 “Yes… I…” you pause, do you really want this? Do you? To be forever bound to this man just to be immortal? What if he does not treat you better? What if you can’t obey him well enough, make mistakes and get tortured like others? What if what you can offer to him is not enough? What if your body in exchange is not enough?

No.

Nonononono.

This was a mistake.

“I think…” you swallow hard. Damn it, what have you gotten yourself into. Maybe it’s not too late to flee yet. Maybe you can retreat and rethink what is it that you truly want.

“Speak, girl!” Cazador demands, his tone is harsh again and you flinch at that, looking up at him.

“I think I made a mistake by coming here.” you say in a voice barely above a whisper and Szarr chuckles. It starts as a low rumble in his chest and then he laughs, scoffs at you, his smirk reveals his fangs that now look more like a threat than a promise.

“Silly girl, you think you can walk into my palace and waste my time? No, you will tell me why you came here or I will force it out of you.” Cazador begins a slow walk around you, circling you not unlike a wolf preying on a wounded foal. You’re in his domain and you’re not leaving unless he permits you.

You were so stupid to come here.

Damn it.

“Please, I just want to leave.” you hear your voice and you sound like you’re begging. Maybe you are. You are definitely scared, terrified even. You’re facing a monster and you stupidly thought that you could placate it.

“Leave?” Szarr chuckles behind you and you squeeze your eyes shut. “Maybe you will leave. Only if you answer why you’re here.” a threat, an unveiled one. The trap closed around you the moment you entered the palace, you realize that now.

You know you should make up a lie, not tell the real reason you came here, come up with something silly, less damning, but you can’t think of anything. Nothing at all comes to your mind besides the bitter truth and you stand frozen in spot for a moment longer, feeling Cazador’s presence pass in front of you slowly.

And then a touch of cold fingers under your chin, turning your face to the side, lifting it to almost uncomfortable angle and you open your eyes just to immediately be ensnared by his sanguine gaze. A silent gasp escapes your lips.

“I thought I wanted immortality.” you hear yourself speak and you’re not sure if he somehow compelled you to tell the truth or if it’s just his presence, casting a dark shadow onto your mind that made you admit the truth.

You notice immediate change in Cazador’s face. At first he looked arrogant - now his smile falters, his eyes search yours.

“You want to be a vampire, girl?”

“I… I don’t know.” you admit again and your bottom lip trembles. You’re terrified to bear witness to the Vampire Lord’s rage. The stories… the horror stories that you heard, they return to your mind in flashes of imaginary visions.

“You don’t know…” Cazador’s voice trails off then he grins, widely. “I suppose I’ll make this decision for you.” you freeze in shock at his words, your eyes widen and he enjoys the sight of your fear. “After all, you came here on your own volition. It would be rude of me to… not accept a gift freely given.”

Fuck.

Your mind reels and then something snaps in you. Panic overtakes you, more animalistic than human and you run.

At least you try to run.

You hear a short laugh, then the back of your jacket is grasped and you get pulled back as if you’re weightless.

You scream in panic, in fear, in sheer terror gripping you and dig your heels into the carpet but to no avail. Next thing you know you’re being lifted off the floor just to be slammed into the ground chest first and pinned there with a fist between your shoulder blades. The drop was so heavy it takes your breath out of your lungs and you gasp like a fish tossed on a shoreline for a moment. Cazador uses this moment to kneel over your form and lean to your ear with a menacing chuckle escaping his lips.

“You’re in luck, little girl. I was getting bored tonight. You will serve as entertainment just fine. And when I’m done with you, you darling thing, you will never be the same again.”

His words, so cold and mocking, your heart nearly stops. Still in sheer panic you try to push yourself up, for your effort only to be met with a taunting laugh.

But when the fist leaves your back you pause, then swiftly get to your knees, forgetting that Cazador is still kneeling over you. The top of your skull meets his nose and you hear a shout. You turn to look over your shoulder, your eyes still wide, and now you see that you harmed the Vampire Lord. He probably expected you to crawl, not to try to get up, this led to you crashing into his face, his nose getting the worst from the impact.

Time slows as you watch Szarr slowly pull a palm from his nose. It’s bloodied just like the bottom half of his face but in his eyes you see only pure fury.

You harmed him. However unintentionally.

And you will pay for it.

There’s not a single word coming out of Cazador’s mouth, only a bloodied sneer that transforms him from scary to absolutely terrifying. The rage on his face speaks of murder. And then the side of your face gets slammed back into the carpet.

You cry out from pain, it feels like your bones are grinding, but the grip on the back of your neck is iron-like.

“No, please…” you whine with fear gripping your chest and tears gather in your eyes.

“Shut up.” the order is curt and clear, it makes your tongue stick to the roof of your mouth.

You clench your teeth and when you feel Szarr grab the waistline of your pants you close your eyes, letting the tears drop onto the carpet. He lifts your hips in the air, making you use your knees and you wince when with one determined pull your pants get slid down your hips and then almost to your knees. Exposed, scared and helpless, you can’t do anything, you know what’s coming.

“You pretty little whore.” Cazador mutters now, he thumbs your folds before he pushes it into your cunt, making you whimper. “You’ll be perfect to use and discard.”

A sob claws at your chest but you don’t let it out, just squeeze your eyelids tighter. His thumb is working your core and you stifle a desperate moan. You can feel your body reacting, responding to the invasion, protecting itself from harm if possible. And then the thumb gets removed. A second passes and you hear a low chuckle.

“You’re a tasty toy, girl. Maybe I’ll keep you for longer than just tonight. Just to see how long it will take for you to break.”

You don’t respond, you just keep your eyes closed, but his words make dread pool in your insides. Another sob wracks at your chest, it doesn’t escape, it’s hard for you to breathe as is, your breasts pressed firmly to the floor. Yet your mind is already painting you horrific pictures of what’s to come if Szarr indeed decides to keep you. Your panic rises again and you sweat, trying to think of a way to escape, to free yourself from this monster.

A shout is forced out of you as Cazador’s cold cock plunges into you without a warning. Your eyes snap open at the contrast of temperature and the sudden feeling of fullness makes your head swim.

“Oh Gods…” you whine and get a mocking laugh in return.

“No Gods to help you here, worm.” his tone is degrading, taunting and you blush.

Wait, no. Gods no.

You close your eyes again and try to relax, trying not to think how him degrading you like this actually stirs something in you more than just fear. Stop – you tell yourself in a mantra that you forget immediately the moment the Vampire Lord begins thrusting.

His skin slaps against your ass in powerful, precise rhythm and you can’t help it, you moan silently. Oh no, no, why does this feel so good. Your face blushes even harder. No, you shouldn’t enjoy this, you can’t. Did he work his powers on you? No, you have to be honest with yourself, you know he didn’t. But his dick claiming your cunt as if its rightful place is making you actually aroused.

A different kind of fear begins to claw at your mind – you want him to treat you this way.

No. You can’t let him do this.

Your eyes snap open and with newly found determination you grit your teeth and push your palms against the floor, trying to battle his supernatural strength still squeezing your neck down.

“Tsk, little girl. You will learn to obey.” Cazador snaps at you and grabs your wrist, twisting it behind your back.

You grunt with frustration and still try to fight back but he releases your neck and grabs your other wrist, now bringing it over the first one and his long, strong fingers pin them both to your lower back. You try to lift your head but his once more free hand returns to your neck and makes sure your head stays down as well.

“Behave, you slut, or else you won’t see the sunrise.” a threat, a very real one, but with a promise in it – you might live.

You only notice Cazador’s thrusts stopped when he resumes them. Couple slow ones at first, he’s gripping your wrists and neck and it takes him a moment to position his knees for better balance, but then his pumps become powerful once again. No one ‘normal’ fucks like that. He has to hold you in place so that you don’t move, his grip painful and cold. His cock stretching you near to your limit and you moan again. So why, why you find yourself enjoying this?

Your body trembles as it welcomes Cazador, you become wetter and wetter as you submit to him, letting yourself relish the feeling, the power that’s forced onto you. Yes, you are enjoying this. Because, you have to admit to yourself - you have hoped for this. When you came here to bargain for immortality, this is exactly what you hoped for: to be his in pleasure and not in pain. You listen to the Vampire Lord grunt with satisfaction as he keeps fucking you, his grip still firm on your sweaty skin.

“Hm, you learned your place quickly.” he comments with another taunt and you open your eyes, feeling dazed from pleasure overtaking your mind. You try to focus and realize that the sound you’re hearing is your completely soaked pussy being pumped into with fervor. How vulgar.

How beautiful.

Your eyes meet his and you don’t fear the bloody embers that bore into you. How you could’ve been afraid of him? That fear that made you run in panic feels so alien to you in this moment. In this moment when you’re being taken. Blood on his lips and chin somehow makes him even more alluring.

“I want… immortality.” you manage through moans and Cazador smirks, his own gaze now reflecting physical gratification he’s achieving with your body.

“I shall consider it.”

You smile at that. Yes, of course you do. That’s what you wanted all along and Cazador is not indifferent to your obedience. His hand leaves your neck, giving you more room to breathe and express those delicious to his ears moans. Instead he grabs your hip, his fingers digging into your soft flesh and you watch his eyes sweep down your back, watching himself fuck you. This is the best you ever felt, the power of his body, your powerlessness in his grasp. You never knew you’d like such a thing but here you are, your eyes rolling nearly to the back of your head from what’s being done to you.

“Oh Gods… I’m close…” you whine, your body shuddering with pleasure.

“Of course you are.” Cazador taunts but you hear from his voice that he might not be able to keep going longer either. His thrusts are becoming erratic, uncontrolled and desperate. “You take me so well, little girl. So deliciously tight.”

That’s it, you can’t hold on anymore. His words push you over the edge and the knot in your stomach unravels with such power there’s nothing left but you and your orgasm. You cry out, you’re not sure how loud, and your body shakes with waves of overwhelming satisfaction. Only thing you hear is a loud groan from Cazador because your contracting cunt sends him over his own edge. He keeps slamming his cock into you, milking himself with your clenched core until he can’t go on anymore, until you’re full of his cum, as much as he could give you.

Cazador stops, panting and slightly trembling not unlike yourself, and you glance at him, trying to catch your own breath. You see his disheveled hair and he licks his lips, tasting his own blood that has dried already. Yet his eyes are cruel and unforgiving. There’s no softness and no affection in them. He used you. And you enjoyed it. You both know it.

After a moment longer he finally releases your wrists and swiftly pulls out of you, as if you having his cock in you for a second longer than is necessary is below him. He wipes his dick on your ass and stands up, tucking himself back into his pants, his look is anything if not arrogant. When you are not fast enough to get up he presses the sole of his shoe against your ass and pushes forward, making you splay yourself on the floor with embarrassment.

“Get up.” he commands coldly.

Since your wrists are finally free, you gather yourself up from the floor, stumbling a little bit because of your pants around your knees and your head feeling dizzy. You fix your clothing as Cazador watches in silence, his arms crossed on his chest. Judgmental.

“I will consider granting you immortality, little girl. But until I make a decision you are mine. I will use you and you will allow yourself to be used. You shall remain here, within the walls of the palace and serve me in every need. Is that understood?” Szarr’s voice is again cold and sharp, a command that demands to be obeyed. You simply nod, but this time you look into his eyes with no fear. This is what you wanted after all, was it not?

“I will obey you in all things.” you summarize and notice a flash of surprise in his expression but it’s so brief you’re not sure you really saw it. Still, Cazador’s face transforms in a malicious smirk.

“Yes, you will.” he takes a pause to look over your form. “Go, find a servant, let them show you to my chambers. Wait there.” He turns away from you and walks to his desk, picking up a napkin from it and beginning to rub at the dried blood on his chin.

You don’t linger. Without even as much as a nod you turn around and open the door. It feels like you’re about to exit in a world that changed so drastically after you entered earlier. In a way it’s true – your world has changed.

And Cazador was right about one thing – you can’t return from this, from a brand new world of pleasure he just showed you. He tainted you. And you want more of it.

Indeed, you will never be the same again.

[wehaveimagineshere]

Hello there, Ren! I absolutely fell in love with your Carlos fic, so I'm here to ask for another one! The prompt I was thinking of is Carlos' s/o (gn preferably) comforting him through PTSD symptoms like a recurring nightmare or a flashback (cuz his backstory is insanely traumatic + the whole RC incident is bound to mess someone up). He's such a sweet guy who deserves more love, and I love the way you write him. I'll definitely be back for more from time to time. You both have a nice day!

Hi Anon! Thank you so much! <3 Carlos deserves so much love and I got so excited seeing another request for him! Yes, please, come back as often as those ideas hit! I can't wait to see you again (:

I hope you have a good day too! And a good week, cause you definitely made mine!

~*~*~

People never quite understand how suddenly things can change.

Movies have a build up, an obvious path from "here" to "there." The little easter eggs, the little foreshadowing, the description on the back of the case. But real life is never so simple.

A five year old could never understand why his mother pulls him from his bed in the middle of the night, tears streaming down her face. Her hushed but frantic whispering that everything would be alright as the door smashes open and hands drag both of them out into the living room.

The men, unfamiliar and smelling of sweat and blood, are just hazy silhouettes in his memories now, in his dreams. Silver moonlight glinting off their guns, mechanisms he'd glimpsed once in his older brother's hands but not knowing the name for at the time, pierce through the dark as more figures drag out the rest of his family.

As they drag out his older brother, who won't go down without a fight.

His dreams can never decide exactly how long that fight lasts. Seconds or minutes, all he knows is the blur of fists, the laughing and tauntings of the strange men, the screaming and pleading of his mother, and that one gunshot.

The gunshot that silences his mother as she wraps her body around his, as if she can hide him from the present, from the pain and confusion it'll bring. She can't cover his ears, though, as the wet thud of his lifeless brother hits the floor.

As the man with the gun aims it at his mother, quiet, dark words spitting from his mouth before he leaves, taking his gang with him.

His mother rocks, his small frame rocking with her, as she sobs into his torn and dirty shirt. As she mutters that signature "It's okay, we'll be okay," her fingers threading through his hair in an attempt to soothe.

A five year old child cannot comprehend death, killing, so he doesn't know to not look. To not peek through the curtain of his mother's hair to the heap on the floor. He doesn't understand why his brother doesn't move, why he--

But he does. It starts with a twitch of the fingers, then a spasm in the arms. Bracing his arms underneath him, his brother jerkily lifts himself up, saliva and blood dripping from his lips. And when he looks up...

It's the eyes of the dead. Milky white, skin ashen and sickly. He knows, then. Some deep, primal part of him knows that he's staring at his reaper, that his mother has no idea their deaths will come in the form of her own son, brought back by the devil himself.

His brother lunges, and he can do nothing as his mother screams, ripped away from him as blood spurts and bodies writhe as she tries to get away, as his brother clamps on with inhuman strength, teeth deep in her throat--

Carlos jerks away, air sawing into his lungs as his eyes dart about. Muscles tight, unsure if he should move or stay, he swings his head--

"Hey," comes a soft whisper. "You're alright, Carlos. You're okay."

"It'll be alright, little Carlos, we'll be okay."

Moving to stand but finding them bound, his shaking hands start yanking at the bindings.

"Carlos. Sweetie. You're in bed. You got tangled up in the blankets. You're okay. You're safe."

"Sweet little Carlos, mommy will protect you, it'll be okay."

The ripping of fabric finally makes him pause, heart slamming against his ribcage.

"Carlos. It was a dream. Just a dream. We're in bed, the doors are locked, it's just you and me."

Curling in on himself, he tries to focus on his breathing, to try not to hyperventilate.

You help walk him through it.

"Deep inhale through your nose, honey. Count to five. One. Two. Three. Four. Release. There you go. One more time. One. Two."

He follows your instructions the best he's able, clinging to the soothing sound of your voice, clinging to each count and exhale, and slowly, oh so slowly, the death grip on the ripped comforter relaxes.

"There you go. I have some water. Do you want some?"

It takes him a few seconds to nod.

"Alright. It's a glass. It's a little cool to the touch."

Shifting so he's facing you, the glass in your hand outstretched, he takes it and swallows deeply, not realizing how hot he is until the cold water slides down his chest, shocking his senses.

He puts the cool glass up against his sweat slicked forehead.

"It should be about three in the morning right now," you continue, feet tucked underneath you. "I turned on the light in the hallway and drew the right side of our curtains. I also got some towels."

Setting down the glass on his bedside table, he turns back to a hand towel laid neatly in front of your knees. Absently he reaches for it, dragging it across his brow.

"I can wet one or two if you need. Just let me know."

Exhaling, he finally attempts his voice. "I'm alright."

Deep, gravelly, haunted. He barely even recognizes it.

"I know, it's okay."

Lowering the towel, he holds out a hand, one you gingerly take. Tugging you close, he rests his forehead against the crook of your neck and inhales, the familiar, soothing scent of you wrapping around his heart.

"May I run my fingers through your hair?"

He nods. "I'm alright," he says again against your skin, the words a little more stable.

"Okay." You start at the base of his neck and run up, catching the small knots in his hair and gently working them out, nails softly scratching his scalp.

He practically melts, an arm snaking around your waist to draw you onto his lap. Wrapping your free hand around him, you rest your head against his as you keep threading your fingers through his hair, not caring how drenched in sweat he is.

Sweat can be washed off.

"When I say I'm the reason you never get any sleep," you hear him say, "I don't mean like this."

You huff a chuckle. "Nobody needs to know that. It'll remain our little secret."

There's an uncertain pause. "Thank you."

"Carlos. I told you I'd always be here for you, and I meant it." You kiss his temple. "I always mean it."

"I know. I just..." He squeezes you tight for just a moment.

You squeeze back. "We've all got our monsters under the bed. Some are just bigger than others. And thankfully, we share a bed now."

His lips brush your shoulder as he smiles. Lifting his head to place a kiss on your forehead, he moves down to your cheek, then captures your mouth.

It's soft and sweet, the kiss, the thank you that Carlos could never fully put into words. He pulls away for just a moment, to look into the eyes that have saved him time and time again, before drawing you in once more.

You place a hand against his cheek as he pulls away again, a palm he nuzzles into. The smile that blooms across your lips squeezes his heart, once again reminded of how lucky he is to hold you, kiss you, call you his.

"Think you'll be able to sleep?" you ask, the movement of your lips distracting.

"Not for a while," he replies.

"Well, we have more of that show we were watching."

He dips to your lips again and murmurs against them, "We're already in bed."

Your mouth quirk and you pull back to give him a look. "At the very least, you need to wipe all this sweat off."

The sly smirk that finds its way onto his lips feels right, a little more himself. "Just so you can get me all sweaty again?"

"So I know you're sweaty because of me," you respond without a beat, a playful grin brightening your face as you reach for a towel and smoosh his face in it.

"A cruel Majesty you are," comes the faux hurt muffled reply.

You kiss what you can only guess is his nose through the towel. "You love me though."

"I do."

Releasing the towel, your smile softens as you see the look on his face. The openness only you're allowed to witness. "Love you too, big guy."

[femininominal]

*INTENSE INHALE* OKAY SO GUYS. Abel, we all know Abel now right? Adam’s son, got introduced in a Christmas post a couple days ago. WHAT IF, Abel ends up leading the exorcist army now? Not Lute, Abel. I mean, that would be awsome for the story. Because Lute would be pissed. Abel is definitely not the kind of guy who would do well in war, I think we all get the silly goober “I’m just a small bean” vibes from him right? So he would just be awful at this. And at first, I can see Lute trying to go with it. Her most prominent character trait is that she is loyal, and she is loyal to heaven and their cause, so she tries her best to be dutiful. But Abel just sucks ass at leading the army. So, Lute starts doing some vigilante whatnot on her own. Illegally going to hell to somehow help the exorcists or to just strait up murdering people. And this is where my theory branches off into differing possibilities.

Sinner adam. Lute finds Adam as a sinner. Obviously shes happy he’s not dead, emotions, guitarspear, blah blah blah, but think the plot effects. The only proven way (thank you for your service Sir Pentious) for a sinner to go to Heaven from Hell in the show is through the hotel. As previously stated, Lute is an incredibly Loyal character. That is her defining trait, it’s her biggest strength and her greatest flaw. In this possibility, she would have to choose what she is loyal to. Adam or Heaven. Between someone she very obviously cares about, regardless of whether you interpret it as platonic or romantic, or her cause, something she had sworn her alliance to and has dedicated her life to work for. Heaven and their exorcist army would never approve, they all hate the hotel. But it’s the only way Adam could go back to heaven. She would have to choose. Then, Adam’s character development. He is very obviously a raging narcissist. (One of the best depictions of narcissism in recent media in my opinion, but that’s a giant as fuck paragraph for another day) Him going to the hotel would go against everything he stands for, and in order for him to make it to heaven he would have to admit and realize why he went to hell in the first place. It would also raise the question of how he made it to heaven the first time if he’s in hell now. It’s not like hell didn’t exist the , that’s where Lilith and Lucifer and probably Eve were. So what happened? It would just be a great way to introduce lore, expand on the shows themes of redemption, and add so much complexity and nuance to all the characters’ arcs. Charlie would be all for redeeming Adam, nifty would be… something, I don’t think the rest of the hotel would care that much, Husk or Angel might be opposed for a moment at first (he did kill Sir Pentions after all), but Vaggie. I mean, Vaggie was in the exorcist army and had subsequently been betrayed by Lute and Adam. She’d want to support Charlie and her dream, but can they really save Adam? She’d have her doubts and maybe loose hope in the hotel all together, which would give that sprinkle of drama that Chaggie needs (because let’s be real, the two episodes of “you lied to me” really weren’t enough). I actually love this plot line so much, if it doesn’t happen expect a fic from me.

Lute falls. Heaven catches her in her unapproved and very much illegal mission to exercise the sinners and she gets sent to hell. Now, I don’t think that in this timeline it would make sense for Adam to also be in Hell. It could happen, but I feel like it wouldn’t make as much sense. I don’t really like this option that much because it wouldn’t do as much for her character growth as choosing between Adam and heaven would, and Adam would just stay dead when he had so much writing personal both for the plot and for his character left unexplored. I mean, the symbolism in redeeming the first man is just too much to turn down. But it could still work for Lute and her loyalty trait. She was just betrayed by her own institution, which is exactly what happened to Vaggie. So far, she’s been set up as a petty one-dimensional character, who blindly follows the rules of heaven (once again, loyalty), but this betrayal would force her to think a little more openly. Now, I can see her surviving off the streets for a while before being found by Charlie or going to the hotel herself, but either way I don’t think she’d ever truly loose her faith in heaven (really great depiction for catholic guilt btw, which is very prominent to the story and important to a lot of its fan base). She’d convince herself that it was mistake or that they were just confused in a time of unrest and chaos. Somehow, there would be a time where the main cast, including Lute now, and heaven interacted. I think that she’d screw over Charlie and the gang for heaven. For a chance at being unfallenifyed. Heaven would reject her, obviously, and the main cast would be reasonably upset. But I don’t think Charlie would let them kick her out. She’d probably compare her to Vaggie, saying something like “what if I’d kicked you out, were would be now?” Yk, emotional shit, blah blah blah, tears, blah blah blah, more than anything reprise #3?, blah blah blah, lesbians. This would be what Lute needs to grow as a character and would match really well with the redemption theme of the story. Also it would help Chaggie just as much as the sinner Adam plot line would, and lest be honest for minute, Chaggie could really use it.

Okay, this is where my theories ends in the same place. Both outcomes would provide a lot of major character growth for Adam, lute, Vaggie, and Charlie. Specifically it would heavily impact Charlie. She’d have to become a little less naive, and realize that it’s not just hell that s broken, and she can’t just help “her people”. Everything is fucked in the world, she’d realize this. (If she doesn’t know already) and she’d (after a series of mental breakdowns and emotional moments with people who love her and shit) grow from it. She’d stop trying to fix everything, and instead realize she can’t. There will always be something wrong with the world, and the best way she can help is by spreading kindness wherever she goes and whenever she can. She can’t help the world, but she can sure as hell try and in a way that’s just as good. Saving one life is just as good saving all of them, and she doesn’t need to save the world for o be a good person.

[allthefandomthings55]

Life in the Limelight

Chapter 3

Spencer’s POV

After my text conversation with Y/N, I got back to work. All I had to do was hope that we didn’t get a case in two days. I hopped off the elevator and walked to my desk and greeted everybody as I went. As I sat at my desk I started to do paperwork that had been piling up. 

“Hey Reid, my man,” Derek said slapping his hands on my shoulders. 

“Oh no, what do you want, Derek?”

“Nothing, I just think you should come out with me this weekend. Maybe Saturday?”

“I don’t know, Derek, I think I’m busy Saturday.”

“Ok Pretty Boy! What are you doing, hmm? Are you going to watch some obscure movie? Maybe reading a whole bunch of obscure books?”

“Yeah, actually I was thinking about going out and getting lunch after going for a walk in the park then going to an early movie then going home and reading some books.”

Derek, JJ, and Emily seemed surprised for me to have a detailed plan ready. “Ok Reid,” Emily starts, “Are you going with anyone?”

“No, I’m not. I’m actually kind of excited to go out by myself and enjoy life.”

Everyone was staring at me, trying to read my micro-expressions but I knew they couldn’t. “Everyone in the meeting room in five,” Hotch said as he walked passed us. After everyone left to go to the meeting room, I let out a deep breath. I hope this case doesn’t take us out of state and doesn’t take us long. I don’t want to miss my hangout/date with Y/N. I walk up to the meeting room to see everyone sitting there. 

I take my seat and Garcia starts the meeting, “Ok friends we have trouble in our backyard. First victim, Alyssa Caldwater, was last seen leaving her job at 10:30 last Tuesday night. She was found dead two days ago in an alley, and get this, completely naked. Then just yesterday an Amanda Clarke was found in another alley about two blocks from where Miss Alyssa was found. Also they were both strangled to death then stabbed 30 times postmortem.”

“So,” Emily started, “we’re clearly dealing with someone who has extreme aggression problems.”

“Yeah, they might also be impotent. Maybe that’s why he stabbed them,” JJ commented.

“You know, because of the overkill, we’re definitely dealing with someone who is really fit, or is on some kind of stimulant drug that would give them the strength and energy to do something like this,” I said. 

“Well, it seems like this guy is speeding up. One girl dumped two days ago and another one dumped yesterday.” Rossi added.

Hotch spoke up, “Either way we better get down to the D.C. field office and help them figure this out. Everyone at the cars in 10 minutes.”

I got worried because I don’t know if we’ll be done in time for my brunch with Y/N so I decided to call her. 

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N, how are you?”

“I’m good, Spencer, I’m just leaving rehearsal. What about you?”

“Uh, I’m ok. Look I hate to do this, but my team and I just got a case and I don’t know if it will be done by Saturday. Luckily it’s here, well in D.C., but close enough, right?”

“Oh,” she sounded disappointed, “well that’s ok. I mean you can’t just let people die, right? How about this, we’ll play it by ear. What I do for work is really flexible so I can meet you really anytime I want. Within reason though.” She chuckled after that sentence and I liked the sound of it. I honestly didn’t even know what to say. “Spencer? Did I say something wrong?”

“No! I mean no you didn’t. I just haven’t always had people in my life that understood my situation.”

“Oh believe me I get your situation. Don’t be nervous but I really need to tell you something when we do get to meet. It’s nothing bad, but I think it’s important that you know.”

“Ok, yeah no worries right? But I have to get going to solve this and hopefully I can make our time and date.”

“Yeah you go catch a killer, Spencer. Good luck.”

“Thank you. Bye,” and I hung up the phone. I made my way downstairs and before I got off the elevator I took a deep breath and made my face neutral so the team couldn’t read me. 

As I walk out of the elevator I see the team waiting for me. “Petty Boy! What took you so long?”

“Uh, I just had to make a phone call.”

“Really? To whom?” I decided to ignore him and just follow everyone else and get into the SUV.

[ask-the-amph-greater-universe]

I’ll respond to as many of the scenarios you listed as I can let’s see

Draconis would at first be looking for the starholder, not really trusting this place, but when he finds Chapter he’ll probably just leave him there, he only takes stars from people he deems evil and it’s not like this guy is hurting people. He debates bringing him back to reality but isn’t sure he’d react well to that.

Bold of you to assume Draconis will let them be dismissive of him. He’s probably going into dragon form to pick them up and examine them. Not like he has any fear of any of em. Draconis doesn’t know enough about Antares’ world to want to steal his star, he’s just having fun messing with them.

Draconis would just be curious of Runaway Eclipse, no real taunting just talking to him

Honey isn’t deemed evil so no star theft there, although he’d probably offer to take them to his world to help fix Cider.

Draconis will humor Beastmaker for a bit, maybe going dragon form when they try to transform him. He is secretly planning star theft though

Depends on the deal Blue Moon tries making with him, but the initial attack will lead to Draconis taunting him a bit. I mean Draconis has five stars on his body alone, so I can’t imagine the star hating guy has a very good reaction to that.

Ahh. I wasn't quite sure What type of star sealer he was. There's quite a bit more scenarios that would be interesting but we'll go with we got.

I mean chapter is just sitting in a closet asleep with maybe his Star chucked to the side. Chapter is literally just sleeping silently. Although it's clear from like the dust and cobwebs that are literally on his person that he's been sleeping for a really long time. If they do wake him up he will be grouchy and asking why the hell would they disturb him from his dream space. His only friends are there.

I mean everyone will be very upset about being picked up. But they aren't exactly surprised by the dragon? How depending on where he is Horn, Black Stars pet dragon might get territorial. Most of them will be grouching about how he's just trying to get attention because he's too prideful to realize that his life is a waste. And most of them all assuming since he's definitely not Sun, he must be an eclipse.

As long as they are at first very nice runaway won't run away at first. He'll exchange a simple greeting and say he seems like the strongest powerful thing around here. And he will be very obviously somewhat terrified and just hoping he doesn't try and kill him.

Honey will be thankful for any sort of help. He isn't really sure Cider is fixable. Seeing the horrors of the universe is not something you can quite program out. But a more hospitable place will be greatly appreciated. Although cider might quietly mumble that he doesn't want to leave Apple behind. Apple being the wither storm that did this to their universe in the first place.

Beastmaker is a mix of childlike wonder and recklessness to the point of being near suicidal. The dragon though will just impress him heavily. He enjoys it very very much. He wants it very much for himself. Also good luck getting the star. Because he's basically merged with it. Or maybe it's the whistle. I've never honestly thought where the star is.

I mean Blue Moon's not going to be the one making a deal. They want this man dead. Honestly Blue Moon will tell him he's abusing power that shouldn't be his. Plus the fact that, ahh. Well Blue Moon's going to be glowing like a freaking god. Blue moon gets magical power from the stars. Not the direct Creation magic boost. But basically it's like he's taking the magic from all the stars and merging it into some powerful ass spells. Blue Moon will probably match him in magical strength.

[ovwechoes]

vampire junkrat x vampire hunter roadhog sfw and nsfw :)

RoadRat / Roadhog x Junkrat Headcanons (Vampire AU) Hiya! Thank you for the ask - I enjoy writing Vampyr AU stuff a lot so I'm more than happy to write for these two. I think any nsfw headcanons for them would be pretty much the same as these ones, but I'll make a separate post for them anyways. I hope you enjoy them! NSFW can be found here c: (there's no questions with this post)

Mako's been a hunter as long as he's known - he's a nomad and lost his home to Vampires so it was inevitable for him to become a hunter. He doesn't want revenge, he simply wants to use his pain to get him something beneficial in the end - use your trauma to your advantage sort of thing. Mako's an infamous hunter, wanting to exude how much prowess he has to prevent anyone coming close to him.

Jamison, on the other hand, wasn't born a vampire and chose to convert himself - it was his way of gaining immortality, wanting to keep his mind young and steady to keep creating new weapons to protect the people of his town (and also for, yaknow, the money). Apprentices had failed his expectations, and he couldn't bring himself to trust anyone with his knowledge of weaponry so immortality was the best thing to him. He's always been interested in knowing what that life is like, and had always wondered what he could do with vampiric abilities.

However, when his friend Jamison, had a late night call from Mako and left him exposed to the hunter, revealing his identity as a vampire, it changed everything for him. The last person he had expected to be a vampire was Jamison, based on how close their bond had grown as Mako had begun to rely on him for weapons to fight them.

Once talking and working through the clear differences between them, with Mako holding a stake to Jamison's chest against a wall, they learned that they both have the same goals in mind, just different ways of achieving it. Jamison never meant to hide it, but he knew that Mako's first reaction would be hostility.

Mako would take a lot of time to learn to trust Jamison again, after finding out they're a vampire, and it would affect their previous friendship heavily until Jamison showed his true intentions. He was terrified of trusting him, and then learning he had plans to cause harm to others entirely for the purpose of serving himself. Mako didn't want a repeat of the past and to see Jamison's hometown, Junkertown, become dead and drained of life by the hands of vampires with too much power.

Jamison would've earned his trust through letting Mako take part in his weaponry development, watching his moves and becoming a bodyguard against him (in a way). Mako would make sure that anyone coming to Jamison for help wouldn't fall victim to his desires, and would ensure that Jamison was paid fairly for his work. Otherwise, Jamison wouldn't be able to pay him, after all.

As Jamison travelled for work, so did Mako and now his job felt completely different. It was strange at first, but as their friendship developed and they grew more comfortable with one another, they learned to lean into it completely and things developed from there.

Jamison would've confessed whilst working on something new, staying in a Tavern whilst on their travels. It would've caused a lot of confusion for Mako, with him struggling with the idea of sleeping with the enemy, but ultimately he'd give in, realising that Jamison had proven himself and that deep down, regardless of his conversion, he was still the same man he relied on before and trusted.

They definitely keep their relationship a secret - Jamison has a reputation to uphold to as being impartial, not associated with hunters and for the people, whereas Mako doesn't want to seem like he's been watered down by his relationship strength or prowess wise.

Money is always something they argue over, with them becoming greedy and finding themselves in tight binds. Mako especially struggles and feels as though he isn't properly earning his keep, using his skills that he developed from his young adulthood for something to benefit Jamison. He, on the other hand, doesn't want Mako to hunt for vampires in the name of money - firstly, it's hard enough for Jamison to survive as a vampire, but imagine how hard it would be if Mako put a bigger target on his back. Secondly, he doesn't want Mako to risk his life for money when there's better, other ways to go about it. Usually he's unphased by it, but something about your partner killing your own kind makes Jamison feel uneasy.

They work through it though, and their bond is stronger than ever before even with their clear differences. It's something they're constantly struggling with in the public eye, but privately they're like two peas in a pod and often forget about their differences in life and experience. Their romantic life is thriving behind closed doors, and that's enough for them as long as they get something out of their working relationship too.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Twisted Shadows by Allie Therin

Sugar & Vice #2

Twisted twisty tale that returned me to empath Reece and Dead Man Evan and their slow burn romance while they are dealing with what is REALLY going on I a world where empaths are the boogeyman with corporations making big bucks to protect non-empaths from…empaths

What I liked:

* Reece Davies: empath, loving brother, anxiety ridden, fears being corrupted and harming others, hears lies, makes me smile, likable and likes Evan

* Evan Grayson: has lost all emotions, gorgeous, lethal, strong, dark backstory, weapon used against empaths, protective, attracted to Reece, seems conflicted

* Jamey: ex-detective, Reece’s sister, enhanced strength and abilities from growing up with Reece, in a relationship with Reece, may join the Vanguard and work with Evan

* Aisha Easterby: doctor, medical examiner, works with Evan, intriguing and hope to see more of her

* Diesel: ex-marine, gentle giant, cares about empaths, works as a bouncer at an empath themed bar

* The communication between Reece and Evan ~ snarky, sweet, hot, fun, and so much fun to read

* The smiles that were created from time to time

* The way touch and not being able to touch in a relationship was used in the story

* Being able to hate the bad guys…and there were more than just a few…hope karma seeks then out

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* That I became invested in the characters and want to know how their lives turn out – am hopeful that there will be a way to reverse/fix some things to make life easier for more than one of them

* Knowing that there is another book coming and hoping it is soon

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about how wicked to the core some of the characters were

Did I like this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series/ by this author? Definitely!

Thank you to NetGalley, Carina Adores, and the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

In a thrilling alternate-universe Seattle, empaths are disappearing—and it’s up to grumpy Reece and his mysterious protector, Grayson, to investigate. Empath hunter Evan Grayson is the Dead Man, transformed by a dark past into a perfect weapon against corrupted empaths. Nothing can distract him from stopping these superhuman killers—until he’s mired in a new battle, fighting a forbidden attraction to an empath on the verge of corruption. For pacifist Reece Davies, every day is a struggle to keep his darker side in check. It’s only his complicated relationship with Evan that keeps him grounded—a relationship that, despite his growing feelings, must stay at arm’s length. But when an empath’s murder on the East Coast points to a treacherous plot back west, with Reece as the next potential target, Evan races across the country to be by his side. Together, they search for missing empaths, their proximity heightening the chemistry they must resist. But corruption isn’t the only danger they face as sinister forces close in from the shadows, sights set on empath and empath hunter alike…

[onelastchorus]

a jumbled collection of random thoughts i have about the archon quest - spoilers below

mavuika is kind of boring... like i get what they were going for but i don't think they pulled it off which makes me sad bc she is a unique kind of character and i think she had a lot of potential. they want her to be a strong unflinching leader and also super tragic and the balance is just off and it leaves me with no connection to her

HOWEVER. her VA ate. especially in the scenes with Hine, she really pulled through as much as she could, i just don't think the writing did her justice most of the time.

honestly all the VAs in natlan are doing serious heavy lifting. with all the mediocre and/or messy designs, the voice acting often does the most to make me love a character. mualani could've been a cutout of an archetype we've seen time and time again, but the VA brings her to life with so much personality. i've really loved xilonen's VA since she first dropped, they have a unique style, they really make her sound conversational, not just like a character in a video game, but a voice of someone who's thinking as they speak (reminds me of welt from HSR actually lol. both very good performances imo). ororon is a trainwreck of a character, but his voice gives me cuteness aggression. of course he's a grandson, he's adorable. chasca is frustrating to look at, but her VA really pulls through in emotional scenes, literally the perfect voice you could've found for chasca. all the VAs are killing it, even if i haven't mentioned them here.

i think the best part of the quest was actually the domain before the big fight. getting to see everyone from all the tribes, ESPECIALLY NPCS and hearing what they had to say, and including characters from the tribal chronicles and world quests was so satisfying. probably the closest genshin has gotten to making it feel like a real world. i don't know how it worked if you hadn't done those quests but as someone who has, it was so great. everything really came together in a way the devs have tried to do for a long time and just now succeeded.

Speaking of NPCs.. vichama... sad gay man of all time. just one of many ways they brought threads back and made the world feel whole. (shout out to bona too. loved seeing her.)

why can they never get the pacing right. why was the intro w the party and and everything SO LONG.. i got bored and almost quit to come back another day. when will they learn to condense.

although everyone talking about their dreams of dead loved ones and kinich being randomly absent bc he would've had to talk about his dead abusive drunk father is so funny to me. definitely would've brought the mood down

too much traveler pushing? idk why we had to say over and over that they're so great and wonderful. we get it. dial it down Please.

i was also so shocked that their ancient name didn't have to do with their role as a descender. i thought it'd be 'witness' or 'sword' or 'will' or something. hope was a shock.

i wish they'd done a bit more explaining on what we were fighting, why we were hearing former pyro archons ect. left it a little blank? idk i feel like something had to have been removed bc we fight it and then just like don't acknowledge what happened. it's weird.

also did anyone read the description for the ancient name? because wtf??

i think a lot of people will agree with me when i say that i would've enjoyed capitano a lot more if he wasn't 1st of the Fatui Harbingers. they really did so much telling, not showing when it came to his strength and as a harbinger it was really disappointing. he's supposed to rival a god but he just sits in the corner plotting and whining about honor the whole time. i feel like his plot got really pushed to the side.

his story itself i'm still unsure about. it was definitely predictable, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. i love that his frozen corpse is just sitting on the throne and u can go see him. that's so sick. anyway i think i need more time with it. if he was a different character i think i would've been satisfied but he was too built up and i was expecting something more exciting.

ronova is really sexy. like. i am attracted to that eldritch being shade. why is she shaped like a vagina.. anyway. i might be insane.

COLUMBINA TEASE. (or the doctor but i don't want it to be the doctor. please.) SHES COMING, TRUST 🤞

the monument at the end is gorgeous.

anyway this is like.. a 6/10 archon quest for me. definitely doesn't stand up next to sumeru and fontaine imo but they had to lose steam somewhere, right? i think this might end up overshadowed by being sandwiched between fontaine and snezhnaya, and i think i'm okay with that. i still had fun.

[vole-mon-amour]

"Save your strength, So Mi. Reed is gonna be here any minute. You'll make it through."

"No... They'll never... let me go..."

The fact that she begs V to kill her instead of letting her be dragged back into the system says anything you need to know about Myers.

"I'm begging you, V. End it," she cries.

"No! Not a solution, So Mi."

(weakly) "Please... You don't... Understand..."

"I won't. I can't kill you."

"No, please. You're leaving me... to a fate... worse than death..."

Like??? There's a reason I went for the kill immediately after she asked. Now that I'm doing this for achievements, it's WAY worse.

Also, the fact that they cut Reed off the case when they start working on So Mi??? Get the fuck out. Ohhh my god. It's Reed's fault too, by the way. He dragged her into this in the first place. Sure, she wanted to be a netrunner and because of how she treated her BF and friends, they dumped her. But she didn't wanna go with Reed. He convinced her. And look where that got her.

And Reed feels it, too. It's eating at him.

"Good thing it'll be Reed. Can't stomach you (your presence) for much longer."

"You should work more on how to express gratitude, V. Good luck nonetheless." (after a pause) "We'll have our eye on you."

Madame President, I hope someone shoots you in the head in the nearest future & no one can save you. Gosh, So Mi deserves better.

Reed: "You know So Mi got rewarded with the same medal after her first op at FIA? Gave it to a homeless man like it was nothing."

V: "It was a sign. Should've never recruited her."

Reed: "I didn't care of she was a patriot. I needed an agent."

So Mi did the right fucking thing with that medal. And I'm glad we can do the same. I fucking hate Myers.

AND the discussion with Johnny after???

"So Mi couldn't die back there. She'll get a second chance in life. Did what I thought was right."

Johnny: "Right for you? For her? For me?"

DRAG HER ASS, JOHNNY. So Mi surviving is definitely NOT my canon in this ending. Johnny hates that choice, plus, when he sits down on the couch for more heartfelt talk, "Not making your life any easier, I know." his eyes are LITERALLY glistening with tears. It's scripted & there's tears in his eyes even when So Mi dies, but it's not about her. It's about Johnny's past.

"You're beating the dead horse, Johnny. Let it go."

"What if it's not actually dead?"

I just wanna scream. JOHNNY DESERVES BETTER. If we the other outcome, where Johnny is wiped, I'm just really sad (and bitter maybe), here I'm straight up mad.

But hey, the talk with Johnny where she calls him a big old softie and he smiles with, "Yeah, fuck you too." They love each other so much. <3

Oh, and for "saving" So Mi you get 30000 eddies. Lol. Myers can shove them up her ass.

[wannabemasterofwindintraining]

In loving memory

Chapter 2/?

(This is a story about the events of Clay's death from the perspective of Aaron)

"Say, where's Clay?"

This would've been an easy question a few hours ago

Clay? He's right here fine and well

But right now

"He... he couldn't make it your majesty, he sends his apologies"

A few hours ago Clay completely turned to stone

The others are still trying to process, it which is understandable, after all to them, this came out of nowhere

To them, Clay was fine one day and suddenly he vanished

But that's why he told me beforehand, so I could comfort them in a time like this

Easier said than done tho

Back at the rolling fortress was the lifeless statue of Clay

Everyone was in varying degrees of shock and disbelief, the atmosphere is heavy

"He- he was- he was my hero"

"He was a hero to us all, Robin"

Macy is going through the same pain as Robin, yet here she is comforting him

She has always been there when others needed her, whether in combat or in personal issues

Maybe I should try saying something too

"I..."

But what would I even say

"I just can't believe it"

I guess words were never my strong suit

"How will we ever carry on without him?"

Axl is the heart of the team

He always said that we're like family to him

I can't imagine what he feels like after losing a member of that family

"He was the knights' knight... who'll lead us now?"

Lance is our knight in shining armour, literally

Being a Richmond, he's very egotistical, but he could humble himself when it got too far

He clashed heads with Clay the most but even after all their bickering, he is the first to come to Clay's aid when he needs it

"Why don't you all get some rest, you've been through a lot today"

Merlock is right, those monsters aren't gonna slow down any time soon, we need to be ready for them

The others are hesitant but eventually, they all head to their rooms one by one, maybe we can talk in the morning after everyone clears their heads

Me, Merlock and Clay are the only ones left

Man, I'm starting to get a heavy feeling in my chest

"Aaron, aren't you going to your room as well? You must be tired"

"I'm fine I'm fine, I just... I want to spend some time with clay"

"Alright"

"..."

"..."

"Alone"

"Oh of course"

Merlock zaps away

Now, it's just me and Clay

Or whatever is left of him

He was frozen mid-swing, maybe about to hit another monster

Did he even notice his illness consuming him? Maybe he did, but fought on till his last breath, just like a true hero would

I wonder what his last thoughts were

Did he think about us? did he have any regrets? did he live a fulfilling life? All questions only he knows the answers to

"Clay... i-"

Oh no, the feelings are starting to hit

"I miss you"

I can feel the tears running down my face

"I know it's only been a few hours, but I already miss you so much"

My legs give up as I fall to the ground

"I thought I had more time to prepare, I thought I'd get a hang on this leader thing before you're gone, but I was wrong"

It's getting hard to see from all the tears

"Clay, I can't do this"

I hope no one sees me like this

.

.

.

.

Who knew crying takes that much energy

Usually, clay wakes us all at 6 for team training but look at me, it's 12 and I'm still in bed

I can't bring myself to get up, my body feels so heavy, I can barely move

I'd rather go back to sleep but Jestro and his monsters are still out and about and they're definitely going to take advantage of our loss

I gather all the strength I have and pull myself up

I push away all the books on the bed and kick away the other books thrown on the ground

I can't bear to look at them anymore and it's not just cause I hate reading

These books remind me of my failure

Clay is already dead and I haven't finished any of them

He shouldn't have trusted me

As soon as I leave my room I am greeted by Lance, looks like he decided to finally get out of bed too

"Hey, goodmor- well, good afternoon"

"Hey, Lance"

His focus shifts to my room but I close the door before he sees anything

Why am I still hiding it from him? This shouldn't be a secret anymore, right?

But it still feels like I've got something to hide

"I thought you didn't like reading?"

Damn it, he saw everything

"Yeah, I don't"

"Then what are all those books in your room?"

"Um.... they're not mine!"

He's not gonna buy it I need to think of something else quick

"What are you two doing?"

Thankfully, Axl is here to save me

"I was just passing by and I noticed that Aaron-"

I cover his mouth before he says another word

I don't want Axl asking questions too, but now I need to tell him something

"We were uh.. talking about the weather!"

Kill me

"Well, I'm heading to the main room, move out of the way"

Axl shoves us aside

"I'm going with you"

I run after him

"Hey! Get back here you didn't answer my question!"

In the main room, Ava is tracking down forbidden power, or she's trying to, to no success

I can hear the others talk but it all sounds like mumbling to me

I just look at Clay and I'm reminded of last night, once again I'm thankful that no one saw me

Well, Clay did

If he could talk he'd be lecturing me right now for all the crying I did last night

He'd say "hold yourself together, Aaron, knights don't hold themselves back by worrying about their capabilities, a true knight would face danger head-on without hesitation" or something like that

And you know what? Imaginary Clay is right!

It's my duty to lead the team now and I know it's not going to be an easy job but Clay trusts me, the real Clay

"You're right Macy"

I can do this

For Clay

"It's time your new leader stepped up"

I take a deep breath and-

"YES! Ah! I so deserve it, I mean look at me!"

...

Pfft

Somehow hearing Lance right now makes all my worries go away

Even if I'm not a good leader, these guys are amazing knights, I know they can do anything, with or without Clay

"Ehm- come forward, brave knight!"

I take a deep breath and step forward

.

.

.

.

I didn't expect to get my first mission as a leader so soon

Just a few seconds ago, Merlock was telling the team about me being the new leader, and right now me and Macy just dropped by the king's castle to defend it from upcoming attacks

Macy is knocking monsters left and right with her new dragon add-on, which is the coolest thing I've ever seen

...What am I doing in charge?

No time for that! the kingdom is in danger

Before I could do anything, I hear an explosion above us, I look up to see that giant cloud once again and he's attacking Merlock's tower

"Knights, we have to stop that cloud, if he destroys Merlock's core memory we lose everything!"

I don't need Ava to tell me to stop him, I'm already on my way to Merlock's tower

Wait, what is Robin doing here? It's way too dangerous for him

"Robin, you need to get out of here, go!"

I help him get up and make sure he got away safely

"Merlock, I need the craziest combo nexo power you've got to deal with that cloud"

"Not now, Aaron, I'm a bit busy right now"

That stupid cloud is trying to attack Merlock but luckily I'm here to shield him

"Merlock, I need that combo nexo power, now"

"It is far too dangerous, Aaron, you must leave this place"

He wants me to leave??

"Hey! you choose me for this, I'm the leader this is my decision, you said it yourself 'the sky is the limit' and now is the time to prove it"

Merlock is thinking about it, sure take your time it's not like an evil cloud is trying to attack you right now, I can handle it no problem

"Prepare for a nexo scan!"

I can hear the peeping of the scan

"Merlock it's now or never, I need something daring and dangerous with some spice on top"

I raise my shield in the air for the scan, my armour is now glowing with nexo power

I hop on my shield and fly up to the cloud

As soon as I get in the air I hear an explosion behind me

It's Merlock, that cloud hit him

Great, now I lost two of my friends in one week

I can't let this evil cloud get away with this

"Aaron, what're you gonna do?"

"Hit that crazed cloud from the inside, maybe that'll shrink him back down a size"

"It's too dangerous"

"Don't sweat it, Macy, I've got this"

The inside of the cloud wasn't as I expected

Aren't clouds usually air? what are all those faces?

This is totally weird

Focus! I've got a mission to do

"Now, you're gonna have to deal with me!"

I start shooting all around, I don't know what I'm hitting but it's damaging him and that's what matters

If I don't get rid of him now, who knows how many more people could die

I have to destroy this cloud, even if it kills me!

.

.

.

.

Unfortunately for these monsters, It's not gonna be that easy to get rid of me

Attacking that cloud from the inside worked, somehow and everyone is safe now

Man, I don't know why I was worrying so much about being a leader, it wasn't as bad as I expected, we defeat Jestro and his monsters like always

Also, Melock is still alive! I don't know how he keeps doing this but this man is unkillable, I wish I could be that cool someday

Also also, the king threw us a big party and invited everyone in the kingdom

Well, the party wasn't all that fun, the king expected Clay to be there and we had to hide his... "condition" from everyone

But it's alright! no one found out, well the king did but that's ok he's chill with it! as chill as he can be at least

Those last few weeks were crazy, first the whole leader thing then clay dies and then a huge cloud attacks the kingdom! we really need a break after all of this, I'm gonna lay in bed and not get up for a week, and I'm definitely not going to touch another book ever again

Why were books my first thought anyways? I could've just looked up a guide on the Internet, it's certainly easier than reading

My break will have to wait tho cause me and the others are moving statue Clay to the top of the fortress

We thought it was a great way to honour him, if he could talk right now he'd totally agree

Sadly stone statues can't talk but imagine how cool It'd be if he could

< | >

[buggie-hagen]

Sermon for Second Sunday of Easter (4/16/23)

Primary Text | Acts 2:14a, 22-32

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

Dear People of God,

          It was not a fluke that Jesus died. When Peter addressed the crowds he laid blame on the Israelites for the death of Jesus when he said “you crucified” (Acts 2:23). Lest we be mistaken and think only the Jews were at fault for the crucifixion, let it be noted that Jesus’ death came “by the hands of those outside the law” (Acts 2:23). That is to say, the Gentiles, that is to say, the hands that nailed Jesus on the cross and brought about his death were people who were not Jews—the rest of us. In this way, all people without exception are implicated for crucifying and killing off the Messiah. Because all things happen by divine necessity we also hear Peter say of Jesus, “This man, handed over to you according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God” (Acts 2:23). God knew that Jesus was going to die. Both the Jews and the Gentiles could not have harmed him had not God permitted it to happen. It is called “God’s plan” because this is the way by which God chose to bring about the “salvation of our souls” (1 Pet. 1:9) and that through believing we “may have life in his name” (John 20:31). God knew that by sending his Son into the world it would inevitably lead to his Son’s death. The Son is the light the darkness cannot overcome, so the darkness within us wants to snuff it out. And we tried with all our might. It’s funny, people speak often how God became a human being in Jesus Christ in order to identify with us. And, well it is absolutely true that Christ is one with us in our humanity, though he is true God of true God, he ended up on the cross because in the end, not one of us identified with him.

          Yet we are here today because try as we might we could not snuff out the darkness. As St. Peter said, “God raised him up, having freed him from death, because it was impossible for him to be held in its power” (Acts 2:24). God played the world a fool. In God’s littlest finger is power stronger than all evil: God’s foolishness is wiser than human wisdom, God’s weakness is stronger than human strength (1 Cor. 1:25). In Jesus Christ God made himself weak, so that weakness overcomes strength, foolishness overcomes wisdom, frailty overcomes power. Death could not hold him in its power. You see, it is a prophecy we have from Psalm 16, there God made a promise to Jesus, that God would “not abandon him to Hades—the realm of the dead, that God would not let his body experience corruption—his body would not decompose. It is a messianic promise. David is dead, he’s still in a tomb. But Christ is no longer dead, he has been raised. The only way for Psalm 16 to be true is someone who can no longer die speaks it. Jesus is the Messiah, dear people. He is the Christ of God. The one anointed and appointed for the purpose of saving those who don’t want to be saved. For each of us is a dead person until Christ puts himself in us by the oral word. And then, we too, become raised from the dead.

In this Psalm recorded in the Book of Acts, Jesus prayed, “I saw the Lord always before me, for he is at my right hand, and my tongue rejoiced; moreover my flesh will live in hope” (Acts 2:25-26). Notice how it says “my flesh will live in hope.” This means the promise of the resurrection is not only for our souls, it is a promise for our body. For Christ was raised from the dead in his body and to this day he has a human body and he will forever. This means that we too, when we are raised from the dead, will be raised in our human body. It is a common misunderstanding that the afterlife is a purely spiritual world without human bodies, it is a misunderstanding that when we die we become angels or something. We might think becoming an angel is an upgrade, it is actually a downgrade. For God, human beings are the crown jewel of his creation, not angels. Once a human being, always a human being. The resurrection of Christ tells us your body matters to God just as much as your soul. Jesus knew he would die by the hands of humankind. But he knew that he had hope. Why? Because he himself had been given a word of God. And so it is with you, dear people. God’s promise of raising you from the dead means you will be saved in both soul and body. Have a glad heart. Be full of joy. Praise the Lord. In this moment God makes known his word to you—you will not and are not abandoned to the realm of the dead. You too will be raised. In both soul and body. In him you are forgiven. Your life is in the name of Jesus. There is nothing better than that.