#i can't WAIT for it to all go awfully to hell YES

[mythvoiced]

-. bro... i'm... bro this draft thing is actually working BRO- hehe~

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Beauty is Pain

|| Regina George x female reader

|| Warnings: gossip talk, hookup mention, Regina's got an attitude, light swearing, y/n use

|| Sumary: Regina's high heels have been hurting her all day. Reader notices and offers that they switch shoes.

Requests open!

~~~~

Regina would never admit it out loud, but she was exhausted. Walking around school all day in heels was never easy. Sometimes she might sneak a break in the bathroom and take them off for a few minutes. But she hasn't had the chance to do that yet. Well, beauty is pain. Isn't that what they say?

At the sound of last period bell, Regina headed for the cafeteria. Her and the rest of the plastics (including you) had planned on skipping and going shopping. Karen, Gretchen and Y/N were already seated at their usual table. Talking about any and all things gossip related as they waited for Regina.

"Oh my God! Did you hear that a jock hooked up with an art freak?" Gretchen asks, grinning as she talks about the latest gossip.

"Ew, seriously?" Regina makes her presence known as she joins them at the table, taking a seat next to Y/N who smiles and gives the blonde's cheek a kiss.

"Yes! Oh my God! It's been like all over snapchat private stories." Gretchen nods, taking out her phone to show Regina the stories," seriously not fetch."

"Gretchen! Stop trying to make fetch happen." Regina rolled her eyes, Y/N would raise an eyebrow at the blonde. Noticing how she seemed to be in a mood. Not wanting to ask out right with the girls there, she takes out her phone to text Regina.

Y/N: 'Are you okay?'

Regina glanced down at her phone in her hands when she felt it buzz. Looking back at Y/N who was watching her with a concerned gaze. The blonde scoffed and texted back.

Regina: 'Fine. Obviously 🙄 shut up'

Y/N read the text and sighed. She knew Regina well enough to know she wasn't actually fine and that her attitude was the result of something. She just didn't know what; Regina's attitude was not going to scare her away from finding out.

After chatting a little more, the girls all got up and started heading towards the front doors of the school to go shopping. That's when Y/N noticed Regina was walking slightly different. Almost like she had a slight limp? Everything fell into place and made sense.

Without warning, Y/N grabbed Regina by her arm and pulled her off to the side as Gretchen and Karen went to Regina's jeep. Too busy chatting with each other to notice Y/N and Regina stopped following.

"The hell are you doing?" Regina snapped, looking at her with a look mixed with frustration and confusion.

"Switch shoes." Y/N replied, in a tone that wasn't quite asking or demanding. It was somewhere between the two.

"Excuse me? No, I'm not wearing your sneakers." Regina folded her arms as she stared down Y/N. Y/N, however, wasn't intimidated. Something Regina found awfully annoying." Plus, you can't even fucking walk in heels. You'll just embarrass both of us."

"I wasn't asking, Gina." Y/N replied, standing her ground on this. She wasn't going to let the blonde torture herself just to make a fashion statement.

Regina was taken aback. She wasn't used to being talked back to. Who in their right mind would dare talk back to Regina George? Clearly, Y/N would. Whether it was stupid or brave, Regina didn't know. Part of her couldn't help but feel impressed by her girlfriend's stubbornness with this. Usually she would argue with her, but the blonde wasn't in the mood. So (very reluctantly) she agreed. Not without groaning and rolling her eyes first, though. Obviously.

Regina reached down, one hand on Y/N's shoulder as she took off her heels. Y/N smirked, feeling pretty proud of herself for getting Regina to agree. She places her heels in Y/N's hands.

"Thank you." Y/N takes off her own shoes and hands them to Regina, the two then put on the shoes. Y/N struggling more than Regina as she nearly falls over once both feet were on the ground. Instinctively, Regina caught her before she could and scoffs. Though she makes no effort to let go of her. Even going out of her way to link their arms together so she could support her girlfriend. Y/N raises an eyebrow at Regina when she does this.

"Don't even. I'm just making sure you don't embarrass us both." Regina mutters, glaring at Y/N. Though her tone didn't come out as harsh as she wanted it to. She wasn't exactly truthful in her statement. She refuses to admit the real reason, but Y/N can tell.

With Regina's help, the two get to the jeep where Karen and Gretchen are waiting for them.

~~~

feedback and requests are welcomed :)

[melodic-haze]

YK HOW CLORINDES BUTTON IS FIGHTING FOR ITS LIFE ON HER UNIFORM RIGHT. Then imagine reader noticing it and just tearing it apart and suck her tits. That’s a need fr 🤤

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Clorinde x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Nipple obsession 🫶, she gets kinda perved on a lil bit but that's just people looking at her and her whoreass fit like!!! What!!!!!!!, idk what else ngl

☆ — NOTES: Dude how the fuck do her clothes even work. Like I've been staring at it for a while now like what. How???? Anyway it's 1 am sorry if it isn't coherent

Clorinde's buttons are fighting for their lives and so am I

"Appropriate uniform" my nonexistent left NUT how the HELL!!! Is that allowed!!!!!!!

No but seriously it must be such a struggle to watch her walk around like that. Like what. What why what

You couldn't help but stare at your lover's chest—more specifically, her button-up that was practically struggling to hold on.

"..Clorinde?"

She lifts her head to look at you with a light smile on her face, temporarily pausing her movement to put on her shoes, "Yes, my dear?"

You cleared your throat as you leaned on the wall, looking at your eyes still locked onto that same spot, "Do you not get.. you know, a clothing violation or something?"

"Why?" She tilted her head in what is indesputably, undeniably real confusion, "I do not see why I would."

She probably feels it though. Or at least you'd assume so, with how tight her clothes seem to be on her.

"..Nothing. Just, um," you scratched the nape of your neck sheepishly before shaking your head and forcing your eyes on her own, "good luck at work today."

She nods and says her goodbyes before leaving out the door.

Hm.

When you're outside, for some reason you can't help but notice that people are staring at her awfully lot!! It could be because like she's the Champion Duellist so obvs they'd be in awe.........but it doesn't seem like they're in awe for that reason, with the way they look at her restricted chest when they're close enough. Is it just today that they're noticing this?? Or is it just today that YOU'RE noticing them looking at her??????

Whatever it is, it's pissing you off a little (a lot)!!! She has the audacity to say she doesn't know what you're on about when she's being gawked at bc of the same reason YOU were gawking at her for

By the time the day ends you're about to lose it (I would personally 🫶) so you're waiting in your room for her before she comes back, all oblivious to the MANY stares she's had and the. Wardrobe malfunction that was going on there. The moment she gets back, dude POUNCE HER because I fuckin would 😭😭😭

Don't give her time to even think of anything—not like she'll need the time, she'd abandon all trains of thought for once the moment you're both in the mood. Kiss her HARD, she'll happily let you and your tongue lead like a familiar dance between the two of you

What ISN'T familiar, though, is when you grasp onto the opening part of her button-up and tug on it. And not tug on it normally like you would to suggest that she takes her clothes off, nonononono I mean FORCING IT TO SPLIT

She breaks the kiss to ask you what you're doing and that you're putting a LOT of force into-- OH SHIT IT POPPED OPEN!!!! The buttons didn't really need any encouraging by that point but with your help it popped off to god knows where 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ but colour her SURPRISED she did NOT expect you to do that

Or did she

Anyway she's quite literally about to complain to you, saying that that was her clothes you JUST ripped open what the heck!!!! But then you kinda easily shut her up the moment you tug her bra down and start paying attention to her tits

Bite em hard, suck em real nice and leave a VERY obvious mark on them so that she thinks twice about wearing things that will DEFINITELY expose her at any given minute. Play with her nipples too, and don't forget to give attention to the neglected side❗️❗️

She'll shut up real quick if you pay SOOO much attention to them, pulling you in even further via holding your head closer to you. She'll even comb your hair too, if you have any :3 though she might accidentally tug on them if you do smth that particularly gives her a shock lol

Atp rip her tights for access too, she won't even care anymore now that you've ripped her shirt open 🤷‍♀️ she says she has more anyway what's one loss gonna do?? Rip it and massage her clit as you don't stop spoiling her breasts, sucking them as if something's gonna come out if you persevere hard enough, and I promise she'll be breathing so fucking heavily as she begs you for more. More of what? She can't even clarify, the ever so composed Duellist is at an utter loss!!!!!

Plunge your fingers in and you can feel how wet she is, how Easily your fingers just slip into her and move in and out, how her folds practically flutter around your digits from every lick and suck of her nipples like a bitch starved AND possessed

If you curl your fingers a certain way and suck on her tits at the same time too???? Oh FUCK you're ripping out SUCH a huge orgasm from her that has her bucking her hips and grinding them into your palm and you need to fuck her through it!!!! Fuck her through her high and bring her down......and even after that she kinda don't gaf if she's absolutely dirtied her attire atp or made a mess as she drags you off for more, hat probably on the ground and forgotten

She'd care when you're like DONE done though, with her sighing in such a way that you do feel like you should probably help bc you DID still rip her shit apart 😭

But yeah dude everyone can stare all they want but only YOU get the privilege of going feral and tearing her clothes apart just to touch her and taste her in any way you can. Mark her up so that underneath her clothing, as embarrassing as they are, are all the proof that everything under the fabric?? That's all for you babe 🙏🙏

It was the day after, and you were looking at her and her clothing once again.. along with everyone else's looks on her, once again more filled with a mix of filtered lust and quite a bit of jealousy from some of the women due to how form-fitting her attire was.

She did say that she'll make a note to buy some looser versions of her outfit, but...

At the end of the day, it was Clorinde's decision to wear what she wants to wear. And it's not like it's ever hindered her work before—if anything, the fact that it's the way it is probably helps with her mobility somehow, especially when such a chest is sure to be a nuisance when she moves around so much.

..You can't really help but feel a bit jealous of your girlfriend, though. Or maybe possessive?maybe, but such a word feels like you want her all to yourself.

(You do, but still.)

But then you realise that maybe such worries are unfounded after all, especially when you overhear someone speaking of a dark mark on her neck, which she describes as a nasty bite on patrol.

You know it wasn't some random bite though, and it seems that she knows full well she's lying, especially when she sees you and gives you a small smile before pretending to scratch her neck to reveal that dark mark you had inflicted.

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY GARRUS VAKARIAN, updated version  *  assorted dialogue from the mass effect trilogy, adjust as necessary

i can't find any hard evidence.

good luck, [name]. maybe they'll listen to you.

i'm coming with you.

sometimes it feels like the rules are only there to stop me from doing my work.

i just couldn't take it anymore.

maybe i can get the job done my way for a change.

if you're wrong, we'll pay for it. but if you're right, and we did nothing, i think we'd regret it a whole lot more.

i thought you were dead.

it sure is good to see a friendly face.

at least it's not hard to find criminals here. all i have to do is point my gun and shoot.

my feelings got in the way of my better judgement.

i'll make you a deal. you get me out of here alive, and i'll tell you the whole damn thing.

nobody would give me a mirror. how bad is it?

don't make me laugh, damn it.

some women find facial scars attractive.

i'm fit for duty whenever you need me.

when i got to the meeting point, no one was there.

kill you? no. but i don't mind slowing you down a little.

what do you want from me, [name]?

i know you want to talk about this... but i don't. not yet.

it's so much easier to see the world in black and white. gray... i don't know what to do with gray.

my instincts are what got me into this mess.

never knew you had a weakness for men with scars.

well, why the hell not? there's nobody in this galaxy i respect more than you.

if we can figure out a way to make it work, then... yeah. definitely.

you're about the only friend i've got left in this screwed-up galaxy.

you don't ever have to worry about making me uncomfortable. nervous, yes... but never uncomfortable.

i brought wine.

your hair looks... good. and your waist is... very supportive.

hopefully that's not offensive in human culture.

i want something to go right. just once.

think you can win this thing, [name]?

i'm pretty sure we'll still need giant guns... and lots of them.

so... is this the part where we shake hands?

the scars are starting to fade. i remember they drove you wild.

i've been doing some more research on human customs.

glad to know my romantic skills made an impression.

let's not go there.

i can afford the good stuff.

what about you? i'm starting to see some wear and tear.

don't forget to come up for air. and not just because all these people need you. because i need you.

if you're suggesting i'm scared... game on.

still trying to make me blush, huh?

i'd be lying if i said i didn't hope it would inspire a certain... mood.

it seemed like you needed time to... figure us out.

the worst part about the galaxy going to hell would've been never getting to see you again.

not saying you don't know how to handle a gun. just saying some of us know how to make it dance.

i've actually seen you dance. no comment.

i know there are other things you're good at.

probably not a lot of air in here. an hour if we're lucky.

so tell me. think a girl would fall for that?

it gets even better when you try it in bed.

you don't lack for places to get lost.

did we break anything last night?

you'll find a way to win. and when this is over, i'll be waiting for you.

if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there... meet me at the bar. i'm buying.

forgive the insubordination, but your boyfriend has an order for you.

come back alive. it'd be an awfully empty galaxy without you.

we're in this 'til the end.

we didn’t kill these people. and we’re going to shut down the bastards who did.

looks like we’ve got a siege on our hand.

if anyone needs fresh clips or a bathroom break, now’s the time.

oh crap!

guess he didn’t like the food.

looks like we got the jump.

pretty extreme, but those were desperate times.

we won’t get a second chance.

that was me, sorry.

nothing like being stranded.

we’ll do more than that.

just the usual minor flesh wound.

what would these people have done if we hadn’t shown up?

i was there when you two had your thing, remember? just get a room and work it out.

stay angry. we’ll need it to get through this.

drinks will be on me.

one of my favorite places to fight!

i’m hard to kill. you should know that.

it’s gonna be bad all over.

for whatever it’s worth, i’m with you.

you’ve waited long enough for this day.

just wait ‘til this war is over.

you came along and warmed my heart with your winning personality.

maybe you’d like to go work for them instead?

how do i not have one of those?

surprise on our side for once. i like it.

brutal, but it makes a certain kind of sense.

[talaok]

can you do a pedro one where you are planning your wedding and instead of you being bridezilla he’s being groomzilla. i can totally see him getting bent out of shape over everything 😂😂

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

a/n: no I did not have to look up what "getting bent out of shape" meant, what are you talking about (thank you for the really cute request)

"how do you feel?" he asked, right at the entrance

"nervous"

"Yeah" Pedro huffed out a laugh "me too"

a day from now you were gonna be married, crazy I know, but there you were, walking into a venue you had spent six whole months planning.

You didn't expect you'd have cared this much about appearances or about the reception, you always were a "family and close friends" kinda gal, but somehow, you had found yourself wanting for everything to be perfect for what you already knew was going to be the happiest day of your life.

But of course, you couldn't compare to Pedro when it came to wanting everything to fall precisely into place.

he... well he had quite literally become a groomzilla.

And it's not like he had taken many of the decisions, it was all you, hell, if you had given him control there was a high possibility you were gonna end up walking down the aisle with a country band playing in the background.

But still, if there was one thing out of place, if one person didn't do exactly what you had asked of them... oof... good luck to them.

"oh my god" you breathed, looking around the room 

"wow" he joined in your fascination.

"This is amazing" A giggle fled your throat.

It really was.

everything was exactly how you had envisioned it.

The tablecloths, the mahogany chairs, the subtle but still awfully pretty centerpieces, the handwritten menus...

It was just perfect. 

"Well it was all you sweetheart" he smiled, taking your hand in his and kissing the crown of your head

"with your help" you added

"Of course" his face brightened as he chuckled "Imagine if hadn't picked this color for the napkins" he joked

"well, they are very pretty napkins..."

"thank you" he gave you a small bow, stifling a grin.

"So is everything right?" he asked, looking around even though he didn't really have a clear idea of how it should have even looked like.

"yeah I-" you stopped yourself, your glance falling to the flowers adorning the bottom of each table "Oh" you frowned

"what?"

there it was, the -who the fuck fucked up?- tone, planning a wedding had for some reason stemmed from him

"I just-" you glanced at him "don't worry it's nothing"

"no baby, tell me, what's wrong?"

"I just- I ordered purple lilies, not white" you pointed to the mishap.

He followed your finger and with a tick of his jaw and a frown of his forehead, the same Pedro that had caused the "chair accident" was back.

Now, your whole friend group had been calling it that since you told them about it, but the "chair accident", or if you'd like - the time you had to make him wait outside the store because he was getting way too angry at the guy when he had told you he couldn't get the chairs you wanted in time- was just one of the many "incidents" he would have caused along the way.

Pedro wanted everything to be perfect, and the truth be told, he didn't want so for himself, no, he wanted everything to be like you wanted it to, he wanted everything to be perfect for you.

So with time, you had gotten quite good at analyzing and realizing when that part of him was surfacing again, as if he was a non-fully tamed tiger and you, his tamer.

"we gotta call the guy" he started

"they can't change them in just a da-"

"who gets something like this wrong? there's a big difference between white and purple, how did we get the only colorblind florist in the world!?"

"baby" you snorted "it's really not that important"

"yes it is, You wanted purple lilies and we didn't get purple lilies, that's a problem in my book" he shook his head, already pulling out his phone " I'm gonna call him right now and-"

"Pedro," you took a step to close the gap between you and place a hand on his chest soothingly "I promise you, baby, it is not a big deal. I like them white too"

"Are you just saying that just so that I won't make a scene?"

"maybe..." you smiled "but also because it's the truth"

He tilted his head, not fully convinced

"I love them" You leaned up to come face-to-face with him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck "I promise"

"you're trying to distract me"

"is it working?" you laughed softly

"Yes. Yes, it is" he confessed, forgetting all about the flowers the moment his lips met with yours.

[bonny-kookoo]

the 'I like you' couple is soo cute 💖💗💓❤️ but now we need to know! 🥺 does jungkook find a nickname for her? does he really think about it? does he try out a few before deciding which one he likes? or does she does or likes something random or particular and he gets the nickname from teasing her? or he just has a light bulb moment on a random moment? lol, I love them, can't get enough!!

A/N: Masterlist

"Baaaaaby-kookoo-love-of-my-life-" you whine, and he squints his eyes as he walks into his bedroom where you're laying on your back. "My tummy hurts." You complain, and he sits down on the edge of his bed next to you to take of his socks.

"...okay?" He wonders, and you kick him with your foot a little.

"Make it better." You demand, and he chuckles.

"How?" He wonders, and you scoff.

"The fuck do I know!" You huff. "Like, I don't know, talk to it? Maybe it'll get intimidated if you're all angry with it." You offer as a solution, and to your surprise, he turns around and points an accusing finger at your lower stomach.

"You better stop fucking hurting right now because I want to go sleep and God knows my spoiled princess won't shut up until you're quiet.!" He threatens at your body, before he turns around and closes the opened window before turning off the lights as he crawls into bed next to you.

It's quiet for a moment, until you speak.

"I'm both mildly turned on and offended right now." You say, and he snorts a laugh, hand patting over the blankets to find yours to hold in the dark. "Spoiled princess? Really?" You scoff.

"You are one." He defends himself.

"I mean, a princess? Hell fucking yes, and you better start carrying me around as one from now on, prince charming!" You laugh, and he rolls his eyes in the dark.

"You're spoiled enough." He says, closing his eyes.

"So?" You ask, before a slap is heard.

And its quiet.

For a good moment.

"Did you just slap my ass?!" You yell out, sitting up, and he laughs whole heartedly.

"Was it? I couldn't tell." He laughs.

"Oh so you just blindly aimed to smack me and ACCIDENTALLY hit my ass? Fucking lying piece of shit, you knew exactly what you-"

"Do I need to spank you again, or are you gonna be a good girl and sleep?" He asks. "You've got work at 6 am, and I need to be up at 5:30." He reminds you, and you suddenly fall back into the pillows, scooting closer, closer, until you're full on clinging onto him.

"...jungkookie..?" You ask quietly, awfully shy. He hums a reply. "Can you say it again?" You ask.

"You have work tomorrow-"

"Nooo, that part before that? Like, I did what you said so I'm aaaaaa~?" You draw out the last syllable, wiggling your toes as you wait, and he suddenly chuckles.

"Good Girl." He says, and you squeal to yourself, cuddling up to him.

It's the first time he's ever really comfortable saying things like that- and maybe it's the way you've gotten closer by now, not only emotionally. Yesterday he'd been so lost in kissing you that he didn't even notice you getting so riled up on his lap- and it left him both excited and terrified.

And these days, he's been trying out some petnames for you here and there to see what would stick.

Babe or baby are cute when you say it, but they feel way too boring to him. They're too basic, nothing special, and it just doesn't feel right.

Until you're out at a shopping center, randomly spending a day at the mall together when you spot something in a kid's store window. "Oh- did you know I always wanted to be a princess for Halloween?" You say, spooning up some icecream from your cup. "But my dad never bought me the costume, and we never went trick-or-treat-ing." You pout, making Jungkook smile as he tucks in a strand of hair that had escaped your messy bun on your head.

"Well, you're a princess to me now, no need for a costume." He shrugs. "And I even buy you candy, so you don't have to knock on stranger's doors either." He jokes, and you look up at him at that, pulling him down by the neckline of his shirt to peck his lips. "Huh?" He wonders, and you just smile.

"You're just so dreamy." You sigh dramatically. "Your flirting is getting a bit out of hand though. Makes me feel all fluffy and horny." You boldly admit, making him laugh as he shakes his head, taking your empty cup from you to throw it away in a bin nearby. "Ah, such a prince charming!" You giggle, and he takes your hand In his at that, kissing the back of it for a second.

Successfully making you blush for the first time since he's met you.

And he's starting to really enjoy making you flustered.

[beansmack2021]

The Point of No Return (Pt. 2)

TW: Technically captivity?, yandere tendencies from Alastor, murder on a technicality, very brief mention of bullets and getting shot

She blinked once. Twice. The sky was red. That didn't seem very right. Wasn't it usually blue?

Y/N sat up, her mind foggy. What happened? She heard someone clear their throat beside her. Oh, right. Him.

Alastor, who, during his life, killed a handful of people and got away with it for years. Alastor, who rose from the depths of Hell to separate her and the man who was quickly becoming more and more aggressive with her. Alastor, who was quite the gentleman, for a demon.

She stared at him, waiting for him to explain to her where they were.

"Welcome to Hell, dearest."

Oh.

OH.

What the fuck?

"Hell? As in, Hell from the Bible?" She sputtered.

"The very same. So sorry to drag you away from the world of the living, but you seemed awfully distressed. That oafish man had zero respect for the daintier members of his species. Not to worry, though. I taught him some manners."

She knew what he'd done. He hadn't taught Henry anything. He'd killed him, and without even laying a finger on him. Without... The pieces fit together in her mind like a puzzle.

"You killed Dave, too, didn't you?" Her mother had taught her not to mumble when asking a question, but she was afraid of the answer.

"Indeed I did! Wow, you're quite the smart cookie."

"Why?"

Alastor's unwavering smile widened.

"To help you, my dear. You seemed so bored. You have an enchanting voice and a wonderful presence, and it was going to waste on the pigs you worked for."

She was going to be sick. This man, this demon who'd returned from the dead, killed because of her. He killed Dave and Henry because he thought she bored, and because he thought she was upset.

Alastor held out an arm for her to hold onto as she stood.

"Listen, Alastor. I... appreciate that you tried to help me, but I need to get back home."

Alastor chuckled. It was a resonant sound, loaded with radio static.

"Dear, you can't go home. You've died."

It felt as though a bullet pierced through Y/N's spinal chord and sent her into shock.

"I what?"

"You're dead. This is your home, now. In order to bring you here with me, your soul had to be bonded to mine. Unfortunately, the trip killed you. Worry not, though. You still look as radiant as you did during your life."

Y/N wanted to scream. She was dead. She was in Hell. Apparently, she and Alastor were tied together by their souls. She reached up to scratch her head, trying to figure out what to do and determine whether or not this was all real or some super fucked up dream. Then, she felt the ears. She really did scream.

"What the fuck is on my head?"

Alastor perked up. "Ah, you mean your ears. Yes. It appears you've developed similar traits to my own. You still look the same as you did on Earth, but now you have the ears and nose of a deer. It's quite endearing."

"Fuck."

"Such a pretty little potty mouth. That's alright, I can learn to live with a few curse words every now and then."

She saw red. How could he not understand that she didn't want to learn to live with him? She wanted to go home. But then, if he was telling the truth and she really was dead, then there was no going home. She plopped down on the ground, put her head in her hands and felt her face heat up as she started to cry.

"Oh, I wasn't really prepared for this strong of a response. Do you need anything from me?"

"I need you to leave me the fuck alone."

Alastor wanted to tell her that it was impossible, now that they were bonded, but he had enough common sense to know to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he just sat down beside on the ground and quietly waited for her to stop crying.

She sniffled and looked up at him, wiping her nose.

"Come now, dear. I think I know a place that might cheer you up."

~

It's short but I really wanted to crank it out. There will be a part three soon.

[sports-on-sundays]

marc and reader getting into a huge fight bc readers best friend is gavi and they’re too close for marc’s liking🤭

arguments / Marc Guiu / Part 1

Summary: Marc x girlfriend!reader - The way you are with one of Marc's teammates is starting to get to him.

Author's Note: There's another request I got that can very easily follow up this, so that's why this is part 1- because the other request will be part 2. Link to part 2.

Warnings: being overwhelmed/stressed out because of work, jealousy, cuss, screaming, yelling, arguing, slapping

Requested?: Yes

Gavi is mid-sentence when your phone begins vibrating in your back pocket. You lean forward, slipping it out into your hand, to see it's your boyfriend, Marc Guiu, calling. "Sorry, I got to take this."

"Who is it?" Gavi inquires, leaning forward, across the picnic table you're seated at, trying to see the screen of your face.

You chuckle. "Just Marc." Then you pick up with a casual, "What's up, Marc?"

"Hey, Y/n. Where are you right now?"

"Uh, just at a park with Gavi. Why?"

There's a moment of silence on the other end, before your boyfriend remarks, "I feel like every time I ask, you say you're with Gavi."

"Yeah..." you narrow your eyes. "So what?"

"It's like you spend more time with him than you do with m-"

"Ooo! Is someone getting jealous?!"

"Listen, Y/n, it's not that. It's just that-"

"Hon, you know me and Gavi are just friends, yeah? You don't have to worry. Just close friends."

"I... okay. Is that how Gavi thinks of it, though?"

"Marc!" you exclaim in an accusatory tone. "You know Gavi! He knows I'm dating you! Do you seriously think he'd try to steal somebody else's girl?"

"No, but-"

"Alright, then there's no reason to worry! Anyway, did you just call to check up on me, or was there another reason?"

"Well, actually, there was... Ah, never mind," you can hear him sigh. "Never mind; that's it. I'll see you later?"

"Sounds good. Talk to you later." And you hang up.

"Did he...?" Gavi begins.

"Yeah, he's a little overprotective," you laugh, scratching the back of your ear. "But don't worry about it. Just something we have to work through."

Gavi nods, a bit unsure, before settling on simply, "Right..."

You've never felt that way about Gavi. Marc, you like. Like like. Kissy huggy romantic like. Gavi really is just your friend, and he knows that, too.

So since your brain never, ever goes there with Gavi, sometimes you fail to realize how much you really could be making Marc feel jealous.

And the fact that you've actually known Gavi for longer doesn't help much, either.

So sometimes, your first thought when you have some sort of trouble is to confide in Gavi first, rather than Marc.

You're not saying it's right. It's just what you do accidentally sometimes.

You can't necessarily say it's wrong, either, though.

"I don't know, Gavi," you sniff, leaning against the wall next to Gavi in a hallway in the Barcelona facilities. You're waiting for Marc, and found Gavi to talk to until he comes. "I just have so much studying and work to do in so little time and I'm so stressed out about it and I just don't... don't know what to do, really." You wipe at your eyes, letting out a little hiccup.

"Hey... I'm sure you'll get it all done," Gavi reassures, putting his arm around you. He gently wipes a tear off your cheek with the back of his hand.

But suddenly, your hand gets grabbed, and Marc pulls you away from Gavi. "Marc!" you exclaim in surprise as he keeps walking down the hall, not even looking at you, just pulling you down the hall with you.

Anger is radiating off of him.

You swallow.

As soon as you make it to the parking lot, Marc lets go of your hand and turns on you. "Y/n," he snaps through gritted teeth, "What the hell?"

"Marc! He's just my friend!"

"I don't care! I don't want anyone closer to you than I am! I want you to trust me the most!"

"That sounds awfully arrogant, Marc!" you fire back, suddenly feeling your irritability rising as well. "You're not the centre of the world!"

"I'm your boyfriend!" His voice is getting louder. "You should be crying on my shoulder! Not fucking Gavi's!"

"Well maybe if you made me feel more safe around you, I would! Instead of yelling at me!" you scream, your voice cracking.

"I try!" he yells back. Suddenly, he grabs the collar of your shirt, so your faces are just inches apart, before screaming in your face, "But you always choose Gavi over me, no matter what I try to do! It's like you don't even love me or something!"

"Maybe I don't love someone who treats me like this!" you scream, not even really aware of the words coming out of your mouth. You push him away, your throat tight. "If you really loved me, you'd let me do what I want! You'd trust me!"

Marc's face crinkles up, as if he's been hit. "You just don't understand..." he begins, his voice low and full of, in your point of view, rage.

"Marc, you know what?! I can't keep dating you if we keep having arguments like this! I'm not going to date a guy who treats me like this!"

"Wait, Y/n- No-" Suddenly he looks panicked.

But you raise you hand and slap that fear right off his face as you scream, "I'm done with this! I'm done with you!"

And you run off.

[rikisakai]

THE SINGER'S BASSIST.

content bassist ! riki x vocalist ! oc, featuring guitarist ! jungwon and drummer ! sunghoon, he fell first and harder, it has always been you warnings profanity, assumed dirty implication sypnosis when the annoying bandmate that has always hated her suddenly starts to act strange around the vocalist of the band. wc 3.4k words

part one.

THE SINGER'S BASSIST.

"Sorry, I sang the wrong note. Let's try that part again," I say, biting my lip while I think about how dry my throat feels. Not only did I sing off pitch, but my voice nearly cracked.

"We've been having trouble crossing this part without problems, Zee. If we can't do it during the concert, how do you think we're going to manage?" The guitarist, Jungwon, says to me. He isn't trying to be mean, but it gets to me.

I take a deeper breath than intended. "Yes, I need to focus. I have no idea what's going on with me." Normally, there are no problems with my voice when I am singing this high.

"You need to practice and consider that the fans paid to watch us. Live up to their standards." Sunghoon, our drummer, is always the one who is able to make me improve.

The bassist to my side is awfully quiet. Perhaps he is bathing in the contentment he feels knowing I struggle. All I know is that he has been staring at me. The whole day—every day, actually. He always stares, likely waiting for me to mess up so he can laugh in secret.

Because he always laughs in secret, I know he does. Never to my face, like the coward he is, but always when I am not looking.

I do my best to not look at him at all, to give him none of my attention, none at all, but then I peek just one glance at him.

He's looking me right in my eyes, grinning evilly once I meet his, raising his eyebrows in challenge. What an asshole. How I despise him and his pretty face.

Ni-ki. The boy that hates me and, unfortunately, has a very, very pretty face. It makes it even harder to not look at him.

"Yeah, Zeve. Practice," he whispers wickedly, and those beautiful features of his turn into the devil's son's right in front of my eyes. Fucking bitch. He grabs for my wrist, but I swat it away, stepping away from him.

I remember times when I have barely known him, when I desired him and his touch, perhaps even loved it. Back when he didn't hate me for a reason I can't figure out to this day.

My nails dig into my fists, and I say nothing, knowing what he hates the most is when his words don't get to me—when I ignore them.

Once again, I take a deep breath. Then I start right over.

A DAY LATER, THURSDAY.

Being a university student and in a band at the same time turned out to be more stressful than I would have ever imagined. That is only due to the popularity we gained, though. We wouldn't push ourselves to this extent if there was no one who wanted to listen and cheer for us anyway.

Over the last year, ENHYPHEN has become huge. It all started with a song that I uploaded and that was only supposed to be out there for the fans, with no promotion, but went viral. People continued to listen until they found out we were an actual band.

And that's how it all started.

Now, we are having a concert that is happening in a few weeks, and I feel as though I am going to put on a disappointing performance.

If only I—

"My god, this girl is still asleep. Wake the hell up!"

I jolt in surprise, a frown on my face. I don't even need to guess who just interrupted my slumber. "I'm awake, asshole." Sending him my worst glare, I stretch my arms out, not helping my claim in any way.

"Thank fuck, I guess. You need to help me. Now." He way he says it makes it sound like an emergency. As if I would ever even help him. Especially if he just woke me up.

He stands and walks over to my side of the table, heavy with books borrowed from this library, grabbing my chin firmly and sitting down next to me. Lifting it up, he watches my eyes, appearing to forget what he was about to say, then remembering again. "You need to ... assist me with the work, yes?"

When I don't answer him, attempting to fully waken, his eyes go to my mouth, just for that one moment, then gone.

"Well, you certainly have a way to get people to do your stuff. Unfortunately for you, I can't help you with that." And then, I put my head down on the table again—or try, because my cheek meets his hand. How come I didn't realize how close he got? Either way, his hand is warm. My sleepy mind will not let me move, forgetting all about the guy I am trying to take a nap on.

"Zeve, I will force you if I have to. Don't make me. You hate it when I do."

I move my head, lips meeting his soft skin, sliding them across the back of his hand. Ni-ki moves as though a shudder has just gone through him. "Zeve."

Feeling his hand on my cheek, I give in and sit back in my chair. His ears are red, and I cannot tell if they were when he last made me look into his eyes. "What's with your ears?" I blurt out.

"What?" he nearly yells, getting up from his seat and bringing a hand to his left ear. Then, he grabs his beanie and pulls it over his head, covering the entirety of his ears.

I blink. "Okay," I whisper, confused.

"Anyway," he clears his throat, "let's get started now, shall we?" Ni-ki gains his composure and is looking at me exactly as he always does. Like he's challenging me. Messing with me. But just a moment ago, he seemed so flustered. And not just by anyone. By ... me.

A WEEK LATER, FRIDAY.

"We did well today, you guys. Sleep over, and tomorrow we'll practice harder than we did the past four hours. Let's give ourselves a break." Sunghoon is right, we should probably stop working without end. We deserve some time for just our band. To bond like people usually do, not through tirelessly practicing songs.

But Hoon's soundproof room in his house has been my favorite place ever since we started playing here. Before that, it had been my garage, and before that, Ni-ki's backyard, in which we could never be too loud because the neighbors would be complaining about the kids playing their music too loud.

When I turn, I notice half of my water bottle empty. I cannot remember drinking it all. How weird, I think. But then I steal a glance at the smirking boy beside me and feel like stabbing him.

"Don't drink my water, you disgusting shit! I don't want to have all your bacteria in my mouth!"

He raises his brow, looking at me funnily. "You're saying that, but secretly, you wish I put all of my bacteria down your—"

"Shut the hell up! Don't say that. Ever. Again. You little shit. Gross," I reply dramatically, a deep frown on my face. Ni-ki grins at me, his fingers going to my jaw, pouting as though he might actually be sad.

"Aww. Don't want me to kiss you? Scared you'll like it?" When he whispers that, one part of me wants to hit him, tell him that never, ever, would I let him. The other wants to surprise him, putting my lips on his, just so he'll have to live knowing he actually craves kissing me. Because I will make him crave it. And I will be in peace, knowing I do not feel the same.

"You wish," I only answer bitterly, knowing my ego is too big to kiss him first to begin with.

"Alright, you two, now that it's all solved, can we order food?" Jungwon asks, and for a second, I forgot me and Ni-ki were not alone.

He seems to have, too, turning his head in a surprised manner, showing me a perfect view of his side profile. Or, more so, of his ears—a glowing red.

"Please, I'm so fucking hungry," I hear Sunghoon say, grabbing his phone and mumbling about whether he wants pizza or sushi, but I drown it out.

Instead, I go to my room—which is not actually mine, officially, but is the one I always sleep in—and decide to change out of my tight clothes.

Roaming through the closet, I have a big, comfortable shirt in front of my eyes that I have never seen nor worn, with my black shorts that barely cover my thighs, but I often wear. I have never felt uncomfortable about revealing stuff to any of them, not even Ni-ki. They're like my family, like my brothers.

Well, except Ni-ki. Not him, the damn—

There! Shrieking with triumph, I grab out a white shirt, rather a jersey, and put it over my head in an instant. It's so soft, perfect to sleep in. I take a note to thank Sunghoon for having bought this (even if it was for him, not me) once I'm ready for Ni-ki to interrupt me when I do start talking.

With a smile, I trot into the living room, walking to the boys who are split on the couch and at the table. Ni-ki looks at me first. His eyes widen at the sight of me. What's wrong with him? I thought he didn't mind when my legs showed?

But his gaze is not on my legs. It is locked on my shirt. On the jersey.

Am I wearing the number of his least favorite soccer player or something? I turn to the mirror in the hall, perfectly visible from where I am standing, and realize.

10

Riki

Not his least favorite. Mine, rather.

Fuck.

"That's my jersey you're wearing, Zee." His voice surprises me. He isn't seeming to be messing with me. Right now, he seems rather shocked.

I ignore the fact that he just called me by my nickname, Zee, which he has almost never done before. Perhaps that is because we've always lacked the friendship aspect in our relationship, one way or another, but then I don't see why he is calling me that now.

"No shit." My hands to go my hips, thinking about what to do next. Neither Jungwon nor Sunghoon say anything, but I don't miss how they laugh when they catch each other looking at Ni-ki's face.

It's not hard to miss, considering how loud they are in unison.

"Uh, well, I'm gonna—"

"Keep it on. Don't stress over it. You can keep the shirt. I don't need it anyways," he says, the way he's looking at me so different from usually. Ni-ki sends them his worst glare, and I think I might be dreaming.

Now that I think about it, I have never seen him angry or annoyed. Ever. He isn't even in this moment, but it is the closest thing I will get to it. Which I am grateful for.

If I didn't know better, I'd think he wanted me to keep the shirt. His shirt. That if he needed it, he'd still give it to me.

Then it's good that I know he's not romantic. At all. Not in the least. Most of all, not with me. Why would he be? He hates me. He can't stand me. He never could.

He hates you, my mind tells me when I sit on the couch next to him. Don't forget that.

He hates you, I look to him, just once, actually smiling at his red cheeks. And you hate him too.

He hates you, even when he puts a hand on your thigh, caressing it like he might just like you.

My face heats up, and I think about how much I despise anyone having an effect on me. When the bell rings shortly later though, it is what saves me.

In my bed, my eyes are wide open. If I was asked why I am awake now, my mouth would hang open, searching for an answer in my head.

For a lie.

Why are you awake? I can't sleep.

Why are you awake? I don't know.

Why are you awake? I have no idea why I am.

Why are you awake? I am thinking about a boy.

"What boy?"

Jumping in my seat, I turn the chair to face the door. Ni-ki. He's here. Sitting on my bed. Meaning he has been here for at least 20 seconds. Which is about the timespan of all the answers I just gave.

His beautiful face is neutral, curious, but also knowing. Awaiting my answer, so patiently.

I will not give him the satisfaction of telling him that he has managed to get through to me, with ... absolutely nothing. He has done basically nothing, and I am already here, thinking about him as though I'm some sixteen year old girl.

This is all his fault. His flustered face and the thought of kissing him made me like this. The thought he put in my head to begin with.

"I ... I can't tell you."

Face stoic, he stands and walks toward me, determination engraved on his features. "Can't tell me?" he repeats, and weakly, I shake my head.

He kneels in front of me, never looking away from my face, making my heart swell and ache from how pretty he is. It feels good to acknowledge without fighting it. I cannot move from my bed. It feels as though he froze all my movements.

"Hmm. And what can't you tell me?" he asks again, but this time, he drives his hand under my blanket but over my clothes, on my stomach, then my waist, my thigh, driving his fingers across my body, featherlight touches all over my skin, making me feel dizzy.

"The answer to your question," I clench my teeth together.

"And why is that?" He explores my shoulders, my throat, my neck now, the sensation unbearable—I want to have my hands on him, too. Want to feel his body just like this.

"Because I don't want to admit how much I do like you."

The words hang in the air. The touch freezing, and I see a cautious thought behind his eyes. When those beautiful eyes meet mine, I've never wanted to kiss him more.

"Riki," I whisper, putting my hands on his shoulder and neck.

His eyes widen, just slightly. Similarly to how I have barely heard him call me Zee, I have never used the name Riki for him. In his presence. To him. Ever. I can't, for the life of me, remember how I went without calling him by his real name.

His hand covers my own on his shoulder, and when he leads me to sit on my bed next to him, I follow.

Putting both of his hands on my face, he searches my eyes for something. Wheels turn in my head as I ask myself what he could be looking for. My mind can't give me a single reason as to why this could possibly be unusual.

A big smile finds his lips when he looks down, at the shirt that belongs to him, on my body. "It suits you. You should wear my name more often."

"Why ..." I start, and hate myself for the whiny tone of my voice, "why are you like this so suddenly? You've never liked me." My statement makes the corners of his mouth curl up.

"Oh, my poor Zee. You have no idea how wrong you are." He lets go of me, but leans in so close that his nose touches mine, that his red cheeks nearly come in contact with my own.

"Do you even want to know for how long I've liked you? Would that be something you would be interested in hearing—you know, since you don't care about me at all," he mocks, eyebrows raised.

"How can you lie to me like this? And you would think it is the most obvious thing in the entire world that you have always only wanted to bring me down and to make fun of me and my mistakes and never even think to—"

Quite odd how fast things can change when you don't know what's happening.

Just one moment ago, I was angry at him, mad that he would use me like that, that he would so blandly tell those lies right into my face, and the next, his mouth presses hard against mine.

The breath is knocked out of my lungs. For a quick moment, I don't do anything but feel his lips move against mine, firm but soft. In the next, I have my hand on his chest and kiss him back.

He sighs, and I smile against his lips, feeling more satisfied every second and so, so different from just a few moments ago, when I was angry at him. Dizziness slowly clouds my mind. I've known him for years, yet I have never seen him kiss a girl, nor known if he's ever had a girlfriend, therefore it comes as a surprise that he can kiss the way he can.

Even if he would want me to, perhaps if it would even give him reassurance and would surely make him happy, I will never admit how much I like kissing him. But when you find out new things about yourself that you do enjoy doing, sometimes you wonder how you went that long without having done it, that certain thing.

He comes closer, puts one of my legs between his and the other to his right one, brushes a strand out of my face that touches his own, and I have no idea how he makes it feel like we have always been doing this.

Pulling away, he grins at me, looking to my eyes and then down to my lips, smiling wider when he meets my gaze again.

"I have liked you ever since we first met," he interrupts my train of thought, confessing his secret. Shocked beyond thought, I don't respond, I only stare at him, his red, swollen lips.

"If you knew how long I've spent thinking about this, what it would be like. So long to imagine all the different ways I could feel, and still, it can't compare."

My cheeks burn, his are also flushed, and I note how they feel warmer the longer I stroke my thumbs along them. What shocks me is that he actually lets me, that he doesn't protest at all and simply lets himself be touched, even enjoying it. How long have I shied away from his touch? How long have I let myself not enjoy it?

"Zee," he whispers, eyes heavy, and I give him a kiss to his jaw, feeling silly and oddly affectionate toward a guy I would have claimed to hate a few hours ago, before grabbing his hand and bringing him up with me, leading him to his room.

"What are you doing? Where are you bringing me?" he raises an eyebrow, looking at me as though I am somewhat unreasonable. My head can't find a reason as to why that could be, so I continue walking him through the corridors.

Along the way, we hear Sunghoon snoring. "Bringing you to your bed? You're tired, Riki. Hence, you need to sleep." I open his bedroom door, getting ready to leave, but he holds me by the waist.

Bringing his face close to mine, he attempts to get my full attention, and it works. Suddenly, I feel nervous. Riki looks so serious, seems so stern when he's sleepy.

"Why do you think I went to your room in the first place? What if I want to sleep with you?"

My eyes go the most wide they have ever been. "Excuse me?"

"Oh my God, I meant in your room, you moron. Ew. Who do you think I am?" His face contorts in disgust, though a playful smirk is playing on his pretty lips. "What a dirty girl."

I sigh, wanting to go back to my room when I hear his footsteps behind me, blabbering some more in his state of half-sleep. "And perhaps in your bed. I'm not a very great nap-on-the-floor-guy. Forgive me. But you're still dirty."

And I invite him into my room, then watch as he lets himself fall onto the sheets, unmoving as soon as his head hits the pillow.

During the night, in his endless moving and shuffling to find a good position, in a moment that in slumber, feels like a dream, he mumbles a name. "Zee."

my first post on here. this sucks, but i'll still write a second part.

© all rights reserved, rikisakai.

[whumpshaped]

helle has used this tactic a hundred times already, and it always, always works... humans are so kind <3

masterlist

tw vampire whumper, mind control, illusions, home invasion, dehumanisation

Things were... not good. Beck remembered begging Helle to stay and take him as their regular bloodbag just so he could avoid the torture that came with saying no, but it all seemed... distant now. Way more distant than the ache in his neck, which was always, always there. He woke up with it, he went to sleep with it, he had it reopened and ripped further somewhere in the meantime.

He hated it.

Sometimes he thought about staying inside forever, never letting Helle touch him again. They hadn't asked to be invited in, yet, and he hated that he considered it an act of mercy that he couldn't exploit. Because if he did, then what was Helle going to do the next time they thought about giving him a semblance of dignity?

So he stayed outside every night, obediently awaiting his master by the front door of his apartment complex. Helle rewarded it with gentle praise and sweet nothings, leaving his mind intact and his home undisturbed.

Until they got bored, of course. Because they always did, didn't they? Being good was boring, being kind was boring, and letting their human have any nook he could hide away in was boring. But taking that away? Oh, that must've been thrilling.

It wasn't too thrilling on his part when a sort of familiar stranger showed up on his doorstep, dishevelled and frantic, talking about a vampire that was after them.

"The vampire is looking for you," they'd said. "They can't get to you here, can they? If they can't, please–"

"Get inside!" He had stepped aside to let the stranger in, not even considering logistics or believability. He extended a heartfelt invitation into his home without a second thought, because of course Helle's antics had been calculated, and of course their stupid kindness was just to make him let his guard down and believe they were merciful — and had no intention of intruding on his home if he behaved.

The charm dropped instantly, and he suddenly didn't need to put in effort to recognise why the stranger was so familiar. Their features clicked back into place, and he wasn't haphazardly glancing at a mixed up puzzle anymore, he was looking straight at the vampire he so desperately wanted to keep out. They still looked dishevelled, but also positively radiant.

"Why, thank you," they said with a grin, running their fingers through their hair to bring some order back into their look.

"That– no," he muttered, in complete disbelief. "You can't– I didn't– I was charmed, that doesn't count– that's not genuine–"

Helle looked quite amused by the way he slowly backed up. He didn't even have any confidence in his own words. "Enthrallment, yes, that would count as cheating. Charm, however... you can definitely invite a stranger into your home. I did not make you do anything." They leaned against the door frame, still just teasing, still just building anticipation.

"No, no, it doesn't count, it's not genuine– you can't, you can't come in! Please don't– please, this is the only place I feel any sort of safety anymore, what more do you want from me?" He was beginning to get desperate, and he was almost whining, begging for peace... and the vampire just watched with that same grin, if not even more delighted, then slowly stepped over the threshold.

"Boo," they said softly, and Beck felt yet another piece of his soul be shattered by the stupid, childish taunt. "I am awfully curious about your home. I cannot wait to explore it fully."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks

[spectrechosts]

Necrosis - Chapter 5

An out of control experiment, a mysterious portal, and a limited understanding of catgirl body language.

This is the end of this arc. It's short, I mainly just wanted to introduce these new characters and go through their little interpersonal conflict. Give the girlies a party to hang out with.

...Who I then immediately separate them from in the next series.

Full Series

When she was stuck, Lagakh liked to tally up everything at her disposal and try to figure out how to apply those resources to her problem. She was a tactician, she could figure it out if she sat down and thought about it.

Her problems were… not what she had expected. There was no necromancer, the spell was out of control, and perhaps had been the whole time. There was a hole in the world doing… something. The solutions to these were likely in the multitudes of books scattered around the room.

She had available to her:

One paladin (incapacitated)

One wizard (liable to actually explode)

Sophia (busy with the paladin)

Ryse (Ryse did not want to talk to her)

Hrok

She didn't know magic. Hrok didn't know magic.

She needed the wizard. To get the wizard, she needed to fix the paladin. To fix the paladin, she probably needed to close the hole.

If she could close the hole, she wouldn't need the fucking wizard.

Then there was the talking zombie. She had removed her amulet like she asked, but hadn't re-killed her. Maybe she would prove useful? Lagakh doubted it.

She sighed.

"Hrok, could you… get Ryse to try and get the wizard up here?" She said, and immediately felt pathetic. Maybe she could ask him to ask if she had a crush on anyone, while he was at it.

"That seems awfully roundabout, boss." Hrok grunted.

"She's good at making people do what she wants without sounding like she's telling them what to do." Lagakh explained. "If I go tell the wizard she has to calm herself if she wants to help her wife, I somehow don't think she'll be receptive."

"And my role is..?"

"Just- I'm busy." She lied. "Please?"

Hrok shrugged and shuffled off, and Lagakh closed her eyes and waited.

Maybe this was her fault. The paladin had said something was wrong, she should have listened, retreated. At least stopped her from walking right up to the damn thing. Was that her problem? Was she just bad at listening?

"You needed me?" Came a glum voice from the stairs. There stood the wizard, her makeup streaked with tears.

"Yes! Yes, uh- I figure that if we can find out what all this is, we can help the, um, your wife."

Why was she so fucking bad with names, too? Fucking hells.

The wizard- Luna? No, it was longer than that. Goddammit, she had a thing about people not calling her by name too- nodded gently and picked up a book, breathing deeply and rhythmically. "What do we know?" She asked.

Lagakh sighed. "Alright well, you've seen the portal."

"Mhm."

"And it's- it's weird." Goddammit. "I don't know the magical term."

"Weird covers it." The wizard said, gazing at it. "It's definitely powering the spell, there's a ton of energy flowing out of it, but why? Where's it coming from? And why is it-"

She sniffled and held her arms around herself.

"Why only her?" Lagakh finished for her, and the wizard nodded.

"Fuck." She said, wiping her eyes. "I don't know how much help I can be. I can't sit here and read two dozen notebooks while-"

Lagakh just waited for her to continue. She didn't know the two of them that well, she was not situated to be comforting.

"It's funny, I used to think I was really good at controlling my emotions, before I met her." The wizard said, with a quiet, dry chuckle. "And then it turned out that I had just, barely cared about anything in my life, for years- and then she changed all of that, and now she's dying, because of me, again. Because I wanted to be a big hero and fight a necromancer."

Gods, she had no idea where to even begin to respond to that, except-

"Well, ship's sailed on that. Necromancer's been dead for weeks."

"What?"

Oh. That probably wasn't comforting.

"Uh, well, the talking zombie-" Lagakh stammered, and the wizard looked at her like she had two heads. "There was a talking zombie, the necromancer had a amulet on it that let it talk- but aside from that it was just a regular zombie, and it attacked him, and hasn't seen him since. Reckon he was the one that jumped out the door when we came in."

"What???"

"Look, it's still over there if you-"

"Why make a talking zombie?" She asked, blinking away tears, and before Lagakh could answer she was up and pacing and talking to herself. "There's no reason. The amulet would be enough. It just makes the whole thing absurdly dangerous."

Well, at least she wasn't spiraling anymore?

"Dead for weeks, you said?"

Lagakh nodded. "Or longer. Get the feeling she was pretty out of it, stuck in there."

"Hrmm." The wizard- Lunaeris! Her name was Lunaeris!- nibbled on her thumbnail. "A raise dead spell shouldn't last that long, but what if- It doesn't have to last that long, if you just cast it over and over."

Gears turned in Lagakh's head. "And it is casting over and over. You said it isn't looking for more corpses, it's just going and going."

"Right!" Said Lunaeris. "And if it isn't looking for more corpses because the point is to keep raising the same corpse- Oh gods, I think I know what happened here. At least, part of it. Raising a perpetual zombie, permanently allowing the soul to speak through it-"

"Oh gods." Lagakh groaned, burying her head in her hands.

"He was trying to crack arcane resurrection. The test subject killed him, and because the spell is in such an unfinished state it raised him too. And it just kept going, and going, and now there's a massive uncontrolled zombie horde."

"I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I fucking hate wizards, Lunaeris."

"Oh, I'm with you there." Said the elf. "I mean, I understand the appeal, but this is some conquer life and death, become as gods shit. You need a certain level of wizardly hubris, or else why even be a wizard at all, and I've certainly been known to cackle in the face of fate on occasion, but- trying to usurp control of the one thing the gods keep from us is, well, it's the kind of hubris that gets you eaten by your own test subject and unleashes your botched work across the land. Honestly, what a pompous dickhead!"

The two stood in silence for a moment.

"So… the portal?" Lagakh asked.

"No idea." Lunaeris said, frowning. "Okay, I'm mad with power, I want control over death, where do I open a portal to? Why is more mana coming through it than should be at all possible? Why does that portal incapacitate Kallie?" She paused. "Why does it make my hand tingle?"

"…The afterlife?" Offered Lagakh. "I don't know about the other things, but- If you want to bring people back..?"

"Hmm… You can't open a portal to the afterlife, it's not a place, not as we understand it." The wizard said, pondering.

"What if you could?" Said Lagakh. "If it's not a place as we understand it, living people probably wouldn't like looking through the portal."

"Probably not." Lunaeris said, crossing her arms. "Okay, say we're looking at the afterlife. You can use souls as a source of mana. Is that what this is? He opens the portal trying to get a soul back, and realizes he's found a horrific power source?"

She uncrossed her arms and looked at her hands.

"Yes, yes of course! A massive amount of soul energy, flowing through the portal- It's not reacting to me casting spells, it's reacting to my wedding ring! There's an enchantment, it siphons power from my soul to normalize the rate me and Kallie age, that's why my hand tingles- the portal's interfering with it, it's getting swept away in the current."

"So your wife is… aging rapidly?" Lagakh asked, and Lunaeris shook her head.

"No, she- Ugh. Her paladin order has this stupid thing they do, binding their lives to their charges to be harmed in their place-"

"Wait- She's one of those creepy sacrificial knights royals have?" Asked Lagakh, stunned. "Who the hell are you guys?"

The wizard went red in the face.

"She's not creepy! She's kind and noble and wonderful!" She squeaked, furious. "And she isn't- Look, she just doesn't… value herself like she should. I'm working on it, okay?"

Lagakh put her hands up in surrender. "Didn't mean anything like that, she's nice, just- the concept, the concept is creepy."

"You'll hear no argument from me." Lunaeris said, as she gestured at the portal. "The point is, she has serious soul-fuckery going on and it's probably why this is hurting her."

"But that's good, right? If we can just get her further away from it she'll be fine?"

She nodded slightly, grimacing. "Could you? I know it'll be difficult, but I'd feel-"

"Of course. Just figure out how to close this thing safely."

"Not a problem! If my wife is safe, I'll read megalomaniacal wizard ramblings all day."

She cracked open a tome.

"Oh, his handwriting is dreadful, that's how you know it's good." She mumbled to herself excitedly, as Lagakh descended the stairs.

~

Thank the gods, the fucking giant woke up about halfway down and they didn't have to carry her the whole way, just keep her steady. Once they got her out of the spire they set up camp on the ground floor and Lagakh made her way back up to check on the wizard.

"Kallie's awake? Oh, thank fuck. Now- don't bother me, I'll come down when I'm done."

And so she made her way back down. And then, having traveled four spires worth of stairs, she dragged a chair outside and sat down by the campfire for several hours.

She hadn't seen Ryse since she had showed her the talking zombie. For all she knew she was long gone, having gathered that the wizard could handle it from here.

"You seen Ryse since I asked you to get her, Hrok?" She asked, and the dwarf shrugged.

"Never saw her in the first place. Searched all over, by the time I came back to tell you you were already trying to carry the paladin downstairs."

Gods damn it.

"…Somethin' happen between you two?" He asked.

"Something like that." Lagakh said, and he nodded.

"She'll come back, pretend like nothing ever happened. She's done it before, I've certainly pissed her off enough to know."

Lagakh sighed. It wasn't really pissed off that she was worried about. Still, nothing for it now. She shifted to look at the recovering paladin.

"So what's the two of yous' deal? She told me bits and pieces, figuring out what was happening to you. You're one of those fancy rental paladins, so who's she?"

Kallixenia went pale. "W-Well, um. If she already told you parts of it… You'll have heard the Elven kingdom was besieged by demons, a year or so ago?"

"Sure."

"And the Princess, um. Killed the Demon King herself, and then disappeared?"

"Yeah, heard she… incinerated….. huh. How about that." Lagakh said, and Hrok snapped his fingers.

"I owe Ryse 50 gold, she called runaway princess shacking up with her knight." He nudged their leader with an elbow. "Be back for that if nothing else."

"It- We're married! You make it sound indecent-" Kallixenia whined, as Hrok began preparing food over the fire.

Hours passed before the windows near the top of the spire lit up the night sky in a warped rainbow, and a ghostly orb appeared before them as they scrambled to react, to inform them in the wizard's voice that that was normal and she's fine and the portal's closed.

Sophia rapped the paladin on the back of the head. "What are you jumping into action for?" She scolded quietly. "Rest! You'll help nobody, keeling over again."

Lunaeris exited the spire about 15 minutes afterwards, pack weighed down with books.

"Never understood the typical wizardly fascination with towers." She huffed, plopping herself down in her wife's lap. "Ooh, finally home after a long day, can't wait to climb 20 flights of stairs to my bed. Idiotic."

"If we had a tower, I would fly you up it." Kallixenia murmured into Lunaeris' hair.

"You are trying to distract me from your brush with death with flirting."

"Is it working?"

"Ehehe, keep it up and we'll see."

Sophia cleared her throat loudly. "I see you've helped yourself to some of the wizard's belongings. Anything we should be worried about?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, right." Lunaeris said, before rummaging through her bag and tossing her a book. "Details on the portal. Uninteresting to me, probably extremely heretical to you. Feel free to tattle to the gods, hold a book-burning, whatever you do in this situation."

"Incredible." Said the cleric flatly. "And you married a paladin? On purpose?"

"I'll have you know, the gods love the two of us together!" Chirped Lunaeris. "And I bother her about entirely different religious matters."

"How grand for you both." Said Sophia. "What's the rest of it?"

"Oh, just some light reading. Lagakh, you'll love this, the talking zombie? He put the amulet on it after raising it. Says it took him half a day." Lunaeris tittered. "What an imbecile."

Lagakh cracked a small smile. At least the real problem was dealt with, if not her personal problems.

~

The moon hung high in the sky by the time Ryse returned, looking uncharacteristically stressed.

"Lagakh!" She declared. "I have something I need to say to you!"

All the eyes in the camp darted between the two of them, and Lagakh blinked in surprise.

"O…kay?" She said slowly. "Should we take a walk-"

"No!" Screeched the feline. "I want everyone to hear what I have to say! I want to- to be clear, be understood, for you."

"Uh…" Lagakh's face grew hot. That was… good? Probably? But also she didn't really need everyone's noses in her business-

"You, you upset me, the other night." Continued Ryse.

"Listen we really don't have to-"

"Not because- You didn't offend me. I just- I thought, we understood eachother, and when you asked me if I had feelings for you-"

Oh gods did she really need to do this in front of everyone? The wizard was enraptured by this display, Sophia was rolling her eyes-

"-I, I realized we didn't. Lagakh, I am not- I blink slowly at you, I roll over and expose my vulnerable stomach, I sleep in your presence- hells, everything of yours bears my scent! I thought that we were already-"

She got caught on her words, and Lagakh had time to watch the wizard start giggling and Sophia bury her head in her hands. What was funny? Ryse did those things, yes, but-

"Ugh! I don't know the equivalent, for non-beastfolk. Not married-"

"What?!" Lagakh gasped, wide eyed. "You- we're- married???"

"Not married, I said! But, I don't know, serious!" Ryse said, exasperated. "Lagakh for fucks sake, you've helped me through three of my heats!"

"That- I-" Sputtered Lagakh, blushing. "It- You weren't in your right mind! I didn't think-"

"I had asked you to do it beforehand!"

"I- I didn't know if you meant, you know, as friends."

"AS FRIENDS???"

"I just- I like things to be clear…" Lagakh whined. "I didn't want to just assume, with- You're confusing, sometimes."

"I know!" Ryse said, gesturing at everyone. "That's why- Now everyone is on the same page! Even though it's very uncomfortable for me to be this open! And I don't like it and I will never be doing it again and the wizard is laughing at me." She rambled, punctuating her speech by sitting beside Lagakh. "That's all I had to say, everyone stop looking at me."

"It's- I'm laughing at her, not you." Lunaeris said through her giggles, raising her hands as her explanation was met with a sharp glare from Ryse. "Sorry, sorry."

"Botched resurrections, heretical texts, declarations of love- I think that's enough excitement for this old woman for one day. I'm going to bed." Said Sophia, getting up and heading inside. "Please try not to get up to any more hijinks in my absence."

Hrok, who had been silent through that whole display, counted out 50 gold pieces and handed them over to Ryse. "You had it, runaway princess hooking up with her knight."

"Ahhh." Ryse purred, relaxing and pocketing her winnings. "Knew she had that air about her."

"Wait, what!?" Squeaked Lunaeris. "Since when are we- I'm not- You're betting on our origins? How rude! That's private!"

"Are you really going to make a fuss about privacy, after gawking as I went through that in front of everyone?" Grumbled Lagakh, as Ryse nuzzled her head underneath her chin. She could hardly believe it, they were- the whole time? No wonder Ryse had reacted so badly. But she was back now, and things were going to be- Well, exactly how they had been already, she just knew for sure how Ryse felt. She supposed that was all she had really wanted to begin with.

"Yes! I am!!!"

[starlxghtss]

So I've got this Gotg headcanon going about little Peter suffering from nightmares during his time on the Eclector. The boy has slept awfully since his mum's death and after his abduction from Earth, he used to wake up in the middle of the night, completely drenched in sweat and shivering, looking around his dark room in fear. Whenever he had a nightmare back home, Peter just would've run to his mother, slip under her blanket only to get shushed and comforted by her soft voice.

But now things were different and there was no one who could possibly give him that kind of (needed) comfort. In fact, the boy was on a ship full of cold-hearted cruel pirates, who cared about nothing and no one.

Yet, one night, Peter eventually sneaks out of his room, tiptoeing through the ship's empty corridors and comes to halt at the Captain's quarters.

The boy hesitates first but his fear of sleeping alone after that awful nightmare clearly outweighed that so he opened the door with a creak and as quietly as possible slipped into the generous room.

There he finds Yondu, snoring loudly to himself on his large bed, having no clue that the Terran kid just sneaked into his private quarters as he hasn't heard him near at all.

Peter stares a while at the Ravager captain, then a child's dainty hand lands on the Centaurian's rough shoulder, shaking it while a whisper runs over his lips.

"Yondu!"

No reaction.

Peter tries it once again and this time, he hears a grunt, then a pair of red eyes flap open in a sudden. A hand grabs the child's arm (a little bit to hard) and the boy squeals in surprise, making Yondu raise his eyebrow in confusion when he probably expected a threat but not the little Terran almost scaring him to death.

He sighes almost relieved, lets go off the boy's arm and his tensed muscles relax a bit.

"'s jus' ya, boy."

"What the hell ya doin' 'ere in the middle of the night?"

Yondu pierces the child with his look, expecting a good explanation for all of this. No one would dare to wake the captain after all, right?

"I've had a nightmare... and now I can't sleep."

"An'?"

Peter avoids his glance, ashamed, looking to the side and mumbles some words under his breath.

"I uh, can I sleep with you tonight?"

That was when the boy caught Yondu off guard completely. Another confused look and raised eyebrow alongside with a few hisses makes Peter almost regret coming here in the first place.

"What? Ain't'cha too old for this, boy? C'mon, get outta 'ere, kid, 'm tired!"

The Ravager turns his back to the kid, pretending to fall asleep and simply waits for the boy to leave his room again, but then he hears a soft sniffle and a child's whiny voice.

"Please, Yondu..."

He turns around again, seeing, how few tears glistened on Peter's cheeks and another sniffle follows while big green eyes caught the captain's stern gaze. And he told the kid many times not to put on that look on his face, not to whine or cry, because Yondu hated whenever the boy did that and couldn't stand his crying. But there was also this feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite understand even up until that day and should he be damned for it, hell, Yondu somehow just couldn't kick the boy out.

So with a few reluctant grumbles and repressed self-pride, the Centaurian eventually makes a bit of space on the bed and Peter's tears disappeared in a sudden when the little Terran scrambs up to him under the blanket.

"But don't'cha make any noise! If I'm hearin' jus' a single un, I'll kick ya out, ye hear me, boy?!"

Peter curles into a little ball, snuggling into the blanket right beside the hissing Ravager who then hears some further whispered words.

"I won't, I promise."

Odd as it is, Yondu has laid awake for a while now and the sleepiness just seemingly dissolved with the little child pressed tightly against his back so the Centaurian turns, hearing Peter's soft breaths and little hands clenched into the blanket while he whimpers in his sleep.

If he'd stick to his words before, now would be the moment to bring the kid back to his bed because Peter actually broke his promise to stay quiet all night. But Ravagers don't make promises anyway and if they did, they'd surely break them, don't they?

Boy better learns t' stop making promises he can't keep.

And that sure has nothing to do with the little Terran crying in his sleep nor Yondu's hand carefully pulling the kid a little bit closer to him or that warm feeling rising in his chest when the boy snuggled into his arms.

No, not at all.

[1miine-blog]

Enough of my thoughts. Let me create a crappy RadioApple oneshot (It's just me going with the flow. Im really sorry if the povs get confusing)+(It's just Lucifer healing Alastor)

Lucifer grunts as he stares out of the windows of his freshly made apple shaped chambers. He's happy, ofcourse! Charlie is slowly achieving her dreams, and each feat she triumphantly reaches reminds Lucifer of his sweetheart, Lilith, more and more. He's proud of them, and it warms his heart knowing his family loves being a beacon of hope for the dwellers of hell.

So why are his brows furrowed and his face painted with extreme grimace? Well the stupid radio music emanating from the other side of the hotel should explain it.

If Albert wasn't hosting or blasting jazzical music every morning, he'd play fiddle with some obnoxiously loud Television guy who seems to lose every. single. time.

Lucifer scoffs, these two surely are serious about playing a part for the Pride Ring. He can't just leave, because that might upset sweet Char-char.

It was fine, A-Okay, sure! But not exactly when he needs time to be depressed and a mess. He may NOT require sleep, but that doesn't mean he can't desire one! Probably hoping for a permanent one.. Haha... Anyway, Alaska keeps bothering his slumber and it was getting quite unbearable.

He sighs melodramatically before lightly kicking a duck prototype. It makes an adorable squeaking sound, which makes him smile for a small moment.

A loud thumping sound shakens the distracted Lucifer, catching his attention. It came from that annoying deer guy again, the noise was easy to grasp because it echoed through his mic.

Whatever, Lucifer thought, rolling his eyes in dismissal. He has to hang around the lobby with Charlie and the others. The bartender's a good guy with great champagne.

After a while of blocking away outside hubbubs to have a peaceful makeover, Lucifer finally places his iconic top hat on, touching up some strands of hair for the finished look. He grabs his cane and closes the door behind him for good.

Lucifer has a specific aura to him that reminds anyone his authority, of course it's because of his overwhelming power. But he's pretty silly on top of all that crap.

Just before setting a foot on the stairs, he takes a really really big deep breath. He makes an awfully forced smile that definitely took all of his might to muster.

"Haha! You, sir, are proving to be the most suitable choice for the 'dud' birth parent."

'Great, speak of the dear.' Lucifer thought. His eye twitches, but he stands his ground, giving no attention to the man behind him.

Alastor's smile wavers just about, one thing he disliked the most was being thrown out of the spotlight.

"Charlie would be wise to direct you to me, sir. I possess a treasure trove of fatherly wisdom, perfect for your needs." Alastor walks past Lucifer, closing his eyes in viscious mockery.

Lucifer scowls at that, he uses the end of his cane against Alastor's chest to forcefully push him aside.

"You-" Alastor coughs up blood so suddenly, it made Lucifer audibly shout "EUGH!"

"Dad? Is that you?" Charlie's mumbled voice from downstairs, her footsteps began approaching.

Lucifer widens his eyes, everything is happening too fast. But one thing's for sure, this situation is not difficult to misunderstand. He hurriedly picks up Alastor bridal style.

"H-Haha yes, Charlie! Don't wait for me, I'll be right there!" He shouts frantically, sighing in quick relief once the footsteps finally stop.

He runs back to his room and sets the injured Alastor down on his bed, which looks like it got conquered by a bunch of ducks.

Alastor who was immobilized, attempts to use his shadow to leave this terrible situation. But Lucifer simply pulled him out with his own claws.

"I WILL be healing you." Lucifer's voice turns demonic, his face dark, he's wearing a grin that would both piss and scare anyone off.

Alastor's mouth thins into a small line. Still smiling, but his ears are slightly dropped down as he looks back at him.

---

The healing session was pretty lackluster. Alastor was just stiff and silent the entire time. He still had that shit eating grin though.

Lucifer on the other hand, just wants to get this over with. He looks pretty upset.

You can imagine him sitting at the side, palm pressed into Alastor's torso as it illuminates a bright yellow glow. Alastor with his feet dangling on the edge of the bed, barely showing any movement.

Maybe it was peaceful. But who knows for sure.

[amypihcs]

HELLO! Awfully late cause uni, got back home late, let's start with today's story! Watson is going like you-don't-know-what-i-saw

Well, he saw MANY things, but this one beats them all

He FAINTED on OUR HEARTRUG! They looked at each other. tried VERY HARD not to laugh. spat a lung laughing without ROARING with laughter (they will roar when Watson will write the case down and comment aloud to Holmes who WON'T be able to stifle his giggles, lol). Now -giggling- let's help this poor soul

BRANDY! the universal medicine (no, watson, just... no.)

Well, looks like it half works toh

Watson: absolute exhaustion -GLARE AT HOLMES- Maybe just hunger and fatigue Holmes: -angelic face and innocent whistling as he searches the client- (Watson WILL remind Holmes of Doctor Huxtable when he refuses to eat because 'he can't afford energies to digestion')

They're both so competent at the respective jobs! They're the perfect couple! Oh he's back to himself! Good! And he starts rambling as sure as he has the gift of word again. Give that man some milk and biscuits, PLEASE!

Huxtable gets a bit more back to himself and here we start talking business

No doctor, i'm sorry. My husband partner and i are damn busy. Is your case interesting important enough for me to move from A TON OF STUFF TO DO? WAINT, KIDNAPPED CHILD??!

TALK, MAN!

Holmes: Tried to keep it secret uh? - going through his index -Very silly of him! oh god, he has half the alphabet after his name. Mr Half-Alph-Man must be pretty important, uh? Headmaster: IMPORTANT. AND. RICH.

Lol, doctor, you know, right, that Holmes despises rich clients usually? Exp for the way they act

WAIT HOW MUCH DID YOU SAY?? Watson, we could send all our irregulars to university with THAT much money! AND have even less monetary worries than now AND buy that cottage we were talking about! We go, right? -insert watson nodding- Now, TELL US THE FACTS.

Holmes' detectivey senses are tingling. And is thanking god the headmaster TRULY CARES about the boy and is not going to say half truths! Guess Holmes' domestic abuse/messy domestic life traumas senses are also tingling!

Watson drinking his husband's imagine like it's the best hot chocolate ASIDE! Holmes is VERY annoyed by the way the case has been handled! You CAN'T give me such a case! The usual herd of buffalo must have passed already! gr! most DEPLORABLE!

And in fact Holmes is cursing every god he's heard of in his travels. In italian. We're professionals of that. How the HELL do you hope to find this boy now? Does his father even CARE?

A SCENT! FINALLY! A man on a bike disappeared as well! OH DOCTOR, please.

even Watson in our early days could do better than this. Love you Watson, you are MUCH better. Try and lubricate those gears in your head, headmaster, c'mon!

MAKES MORE SENSE, UH?

Well, did he receive anything that could've prompted a flight?

Oh yeah. Father of the year already. Holmes is UNIMPRESSED. (and as daughter of split parents i can say that the sympathies of the child are usually with the parents who behaves REASONABLY in a situation.)

Going over.

Ah, you also know from 'confidential talks.' wow. We'll go as soon as i get my suitcase, you telegraph and tell NOT to say that the Liverpool line has been a total blank. My dearest and myself can still solve something.

Mrs Hudson gets them a picnic basket (i loved that scene from the granada serie. perfect.) and they get to the school.

GASP! LETTER ON THE TABLE! PSST PSST PSST.

Get that man some chamomille, please. He needs it. No need to be this anxious, doctor.

BUT OF COURSE. The duke. He doesn't look like in the pics.

So I, DOCTOR WATSON, will describe him PROPERLY. Oh and the secretary is quite pretty, uh. Yes, Holmes, i love you and you only, but you need to admit he was pretty. (Holmes gets kissed after this-)

W-what? STOP FAULTING THE ONE MAN WHO DID THE RIGHT THING!

It's almost as you wouldn't want the case to be solved, Wilder... Well, languid time for Holmes. I LIKE this case, the air is good and my handsome partner has been pestering em for country air for months. I shall UNDOUBTEDLY take this case. You decide if you help me or i fuck you up!

Poor doctor toh! Luckily the duke has still a brain somewhere there.

Holmes asks some questions and then... last one. the letter!

oh YES, god forbid HiS GrAcE had to lift his noble ass. Of COURSE you posted it, Wilder.

Let's see how this case will go!

[morhido]

Wait hang on i have a concept. Hunter going to lilith about his crush on willow.

Not for advice, mind you. All the adults in his life have this awfully nuanced view on romance and quite frankly they don't UNDERSTAND how fucking feral his hormones are going right now. Do grimwalkers even have hormones? He doesn't know but it sure feels like it!!!

And even steve, the youngest of the adults, is annoyingly cheesy about the whole thing, speaking as an experienced older brother. "Just be yourself"?? When the FUCK has that ever helped anyone????

Okay so. Lilith. She's 1) not too close to the situation, 2) far from likely to give him any sort of cheesy advice, and 3) GUARANTEED not to judge him for it (because there is no way in the nine circles of hell he is talking about it with gus, and while he loves luz and amity, their little fantasy romace brains mixed in with the fact that they're willow's best friends would almost certainly cloud their judgement, at least a little).

So it ends up with him and lilith at a table or smthn, hunter screaming about his stupid little teenage boy feelings and lilith sort of just humming and nodding along as she flips through a book. She's not there to help him in his inspiring coming of age story wherein he learns to be his best self and pursue his dreams in the form of a pretty girl. She's just there because she honestly thinks the poor kid might explode if he keeps it tucked away for any longer.

So he's sat opposite her and he's just like "TITAN. TITAN SHE'S SO COOL. And pretty. Did i mention she's pretty?? The prettiest. Hooooly fuck."

"Hm yes yes, eyes the colour of eucalyptus leaves and whatnot."

"RIGHT and like. Have i mentioned that i like her voice? Also so pretty. So cute."

"Ah yes, children are always just sooo adorable."

"NOT LIKE THAT CUTE. Like. Okay gus is cute in the same way flapjack is cute. Right. Like you wanna just. Ahh. Y'know. But THE CAPTAIN. CUTE LIKE. CUTE-CUTE."

"Wow."

"Y E AH"

"Okay. So your captain is... cute-cute. Go on."

"But she's also like INSANELY strong?? Like it should be ILLEGAL to be that pretty and also that strong. Not actually illegal though bc then i would have had to arrest her a long time ago. And that would have been sad."

"Mh, and we don't want that, do we?"

"I've gone my whole life without a SINGLE crush and now!! She has killed me. She has singlehandedly killed me. I'm dead, lilith. If you even care."

"Okay."

"And FL Y ER DER BY?? MAN i can't believe she managed to get me hooked on that sport. Like it's seriously so fun. Ha. I went from wanting almost nothing to do with her or that sport to talking about girls with my old colleague. ....well, singular girl. You're kinda just There. (Thank you for being here btw i /gen appreciate it)"

"Oh girls? I can talk about girls. Did you know edalyn once broke a wall of the house playing grudgby? Like. Not even just a window. The entire wall."

"I AM ABOUT TO BREAK!! LOVE HAS GIVEN ME VIOLENT TENDENCIES!!!!"

"One time to cope with her crush on raine eda sicced a griffon on them. Ah, young love. I assume."

"wh A t"

[lunchtimebedamned1997]

A journal entry of a truly fucked (fictional) man

An excerpt from the diary of Sebastian L. West (A character from my WIP series, Ashland Bites, CW: He's a simp)

(Please forgive the messiness of these quick sketches, they're all the art I have of him currently <3) ...

The taste of her skin - my god, I can't forget it though the memory has faded.

It's the cruelest kind of torture, to know something, to covet it, but to not be able to live solely within your own memory.

To only ever be able to regain it by not only the miracle of her forgiveness - but added requirement of the unlikely return of the feelings she once held for me.

How am I supposed to live knowing what I know of her? Knowing the depth of her soul and the luscious sounds and smells and tastes of her pleasure?

To not feel her against my lips, my tongue, wrapped around me in what must be a truly holy embrace.

Gods what I wouldn't do to have her back.

I can't think of a single thing.

I'd kill myself if it'd make her forgive me, forever rob myself of a future chance if it meant we'd be at peace with each other.

I have never known a creature more divine.

I wish she'd get over what I'd done - that she could, for even the barest, briefest moment understand that it was all for her. Even if it's not how she would have wanted things to go. Yes, I'll admit some of it was my ego, my pride - but how could I call my devotion love if I went to her destitute, with no real skill or craft fit for a man of low station. [Redacted] didn't want a man. Didn't want a husband, but her family demanded it. Our friendship and mutual lack of interest was a light in the dark of my shallow former torment. I know it was the lying, the deceit, more than anything that grated against [Redacted] - I knew it was of value to her, honesty, but I was willing to betray her trust if it meant having my Cecilia.

I knew it wouldn't truly hurt [Redacted] beyond the lie itself. And I could have never known the wound it would cause to my love. That both would want me dead so swiftly - I try to convince myself it was the heat of emotions, too soon an opportunity after the awfully timed reveal of my play.

Perhaps the universe forgives me for my follies even if they do not. I've been granted an eternity to chip away at her hurt until I am allowed a chance to make it right.

I am convinced, especially and increasingly over the last few decades of testing the waters of interest with others, that Cecilia is the only person in the world for me. That I will never love another.

I loved none before her, and i will love none after.

Even if she hates me for the rest of our lives, if her disdain stretches to the brink of eternity, I will love her still. I do not need her to love me to know she is the finest person to ever grace the Earth.

I do not need her forgiveness to feel that she is the beginning and end of my heart's wants.

I will wait - if ever death comes to greet her, I will slaughter who or whatever called him forth, and then I will join her in whatever awaits us, heaven, hell, the blank nothingness. There is no world without her light; even if I'm kept behind a curtain, if she is alive the light filters through.

How many journals must I have filled now with my aching?

Every time I see her my mouth opens and I am lost. My mind blanks, and any pretty words I may have written here evaporate between my tongue and the air, leaving me with only the most foolish, stupid things that only increase her dislike of me.

My only comfort in her hatred, beyond the proof of her continued existence, is the pure radiance of her rage.

An emotion so ugly on others, only highlights her beauty. Not as much as the peaceful bliss of comfort and trust I was once blessed to witness, but gods, its close enough to feel as though I am the chosen of a most generous god.