#i forgot some of it because like it's nearly been a decade

[not-poignant]

Hey Pia.

I was rereading COFT yesterday and got to the part where Fenwrel talks about her appetite and how she feeds on things that go awry. And I got wondering about her children. Are her children Yukti and Zrimat all unseelie like her? And if yes then what do you think their appetites are?

Also I can't quite remember but did Fenwrel have a mate or husband before getting with Gulvi? What happened to him? I can't for the life of me remember.

Thank you so much for taking the time to answer ❤

Anon, I was coming up with this story like 8-9 years ago, so the reality is: Yes - all her children are Unseelie, and otherwise, I don't know.

I might figure it out when it comes to editing The Court of Five Thrones, but I'm not up to that yet, and I don't want to muddy that editing process by making up something here, in case that biases what I do later!

I do know that because it wasn't important at the time, I didn't come up with it at the time. I was impressed I managed to name her children at all, lol

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

Edit a bit because I forgot a small part.

So I have a small minor theory. Most is already fan based. So look at his picture. Vox looked near mortified at the reveal. To me, it appears more of embarrassment of past actions of admitting feelings to someone who didn't return them suddenly revealed to a new audience in modern day.

Some fans already believed Vox has a strong one sided crush on Alastor which partly fuel his rivery.

Vox died a few decades after Alastor, Alastor was probably very well established in Hell when Vox landed. Both being media themed demons, Vox more then likely became inspired by Alastor and was his biggest fan, also crushing on him. Vox wanted to make himself worthy to catch Alastor eyes and so, he pursued and ascended to become an overlord.

Eventually he did, they were not exactly on equal ground, but close enough. They both appear at the Overlord meetings. May have some brief interactions. Alastor probably still jabbed at Vox early on, simply because Alastor dislike modern technology. The jabbing not necessarily vicious but still making fun of Vox, nonetheless, but Vox took it in stride and probably retorted his own witty comebacks. Which I assume Alastor appreciates because its entertaining even if its mildly so. But it made the meetings not a complete bore. Vox thrilled because Alastor did notice him and seem to enjoy (entertained) by his company, even causing the Radio demon to laugh.

Finally, Vox took the courage and asked Alastor out. Asexual Alastor misinterpreted it as a business proposition. Romantic interpretations are not his first impressions in thought when presented. The answer would still be no but probably with A LOT less mocking. Alastor seem to just simply say no when relations is presented to him. For example, Angel Dust making comments and Alastor does a quick laugh and say no. Nothing more. I imagine he answers similar to nearly every encounter of this type. He a gentleman after all, he not going to ridicule someone for having feelings for Alastor that Alastor is not interested in returning.

So when Vox, most likely after an Overlord meeting, asked Alastor out. (We should get together and...) Alastor mocked Vox hard to the point of ridicule. Why would lone wolf radio demon want to team up with a sub par media demon? I assumed Vox already partner with Valentino at this point (he ask me to join his team, imply Vox already had a team at this point. Velvette may not been around at the time, she is the youngest). I think Alastor would hate Valentino and everything he stands for. Even if Alastor was interested in more power which he isn't, he doesn't care about being an overlord-he just want to be entertained, he would HATE working and being in the same proximity of Valentino. Alastor was probably a little merciless on his decline.

Of course, Alastor said it in a way that Vox interpate that it still personal level not a business one. This whole conversation was missinuperted by both of them. Vox was beyond humiliated. Truly starting a rivery to prove Alastor he is better. That Alastor is wrong, Vox media is superior, that Vox himself is superior and trying to turn the tables as he recover from his embarrassment. What worse, despite it all, Vox still craves Alastor attention, to be respected and perhaps thought of fondly. Which infuriates Vox more that he simply can't hate him like he wants to but still admires Alastor.

Side bit, I think Vox and Valentino do have a small thing going. (He also seemed a bit excited thinking Angel quit, and annoyed to see him around). Both of them enjoy each other company but their hearts not in it. (I also think Vox is also a bit of a victim to Valentino poison", that would be super interesting!) But I think a small part of Vox holds a secret grudge against Valentino. He thinks Valentino is part of the problem why Alastor rejected him. Because Alastor during his ridicule decline of his invitation mention Vox was with Valentino and Alastor wanted no part of that. Alastor strolled off, leaving a stammering speechless Vox, to taken aback to clarify Valentino was just a business partner. I only mention this because, Vox seem to have a comfortable relationship with Valentino. They have a bit of history (hinted by the photo of the two together and Vox having a crt tv head) to gain enough trust, know each other to know what makes them tick and desires. But Vox also seem put off and near reluctant to have to calm down his "boy toy" (as Velvette put it). Tolerating enough to remain levelhead, but clearly tired of Valentino tantum shit.

[billiethepumpkin]

Care: Katsuki Bakugou

Kinktober Day 5

Warnings: This content is intended for those ages 18 years and older. If you are a minor, please do not interact.

Contains: Housewife activities. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Somnophilia (sort of). Body worship. Oral sex. Lots of feelings.

Author's Note: All characters are portrayed to be adults because I am an old fuck. :)

You were his sidekick. 

At least, that’s what you’d started out as. You were a lowly sidekick to one of Japan’s greatest heroes. You didn’t help much, your quirk being one of the mind, rather than one of great strength. Initially you just helped out in other ways, such as helping to strategize or filling out paperwork that was necessary for being a Pro Hero. 

Dynamight was Japan’s Number Two Hero, and he never let anyone forget it. He was always on top of his game, from the time he set foot into the agency in the wee hours of the morning, until he left late at night.

You knew, though, that he was exhausted. 

You spent enough time with him that you could tell. You could see it in his eyes, and you could tell that it was all he could do sometimes to keep himself upright, let alone being one of the strongest heroes in the entire world. So you took on more for him. You’d make sure he was fed and hydrated. You’d scold him for staying in the office too late. You’d make sure that, if you couldn’t be fighting alongside him, you’d do everything in your power to make sure that he was the best hero that he could be. 

And then one day he kissed you. 

The rest is history.

Now, you’d stopped working as his assistant. You’d moved in with him half a decade ago, and you had gotten married. You’d even popped out a kid, little Kisara. You were the best wife that Bakugou could have asked for. And on the days when he could barely stand, when he came home tired enough to sleep for days, you were the person he longed for the most.

Tonight was one of those nights. 

You were waiting for him to come home, your daughter bathed and had been sleeping for a couple of hours now. Sitting on the couch, you heard a key rustle in the door. You jumped to your feet, and you met him at the door. Bakugou’s face was still scrunched in that scowl that he always wore. You could see the light flickering behind them, and when he made eye contact with you, his scowl turned into a sigh, his entire body nearly collapsing under the weight of his exhaustion, the weight of his position in the world. 

There was a sort of darkness under his eyes, a weight on his shoulders. You couldn’t help but notice the way he almost forgot he was home as he trudged into the room as dutifully as ever. It wasn’t until he heard the door click behind him that his shoulders slumped and he sighed. He was silent as you untied his boots, as you pulled off his gauntlets. You looked up at Bakugou’s weary face, and you brushed your thumb over his cheek. He closed his eyes and sighed into your touch. 

He was sticky, his whole body covered in sweat and debris, no doubt from his latest villain chase. “Come on,” you beckoned, taking his hand and leading him down the hall and into the bathroom. You turned on the hot water and let the room steam up while you collected a towel and some sweats for him. When he finally got out of the shower, he met you in the kitchen. You were sitting at the table, with a bowl of food in front of you and in front of the chair that he always liked to sit in. 

Bakugou slowly and gently sat in that chair before he took a bite of his dinner. The room was silent, bite after bite. You were both nearly done eating when he paused and looked down at the table.“Don’t say it,” he said in between bites, his eyebrows too tired to lift for a facial expression.

“Okay,” you responded. “I won’t.” You knew what he was talking about. Everyone around him was telling him to take it easy, take a vacation, take some time off. The agency obviously knew that he was burnt out. They saw him every single day. He hadn’t truly had an entire day off for nearly six months. Bakugou needed it. You knew it. He knew it. Your daughter knew it. But he didn’t want to be told one more time that he needed a break. To him, it meant he looked tired, slow, incapable. How was he supposed to get better? How was he supposed to get stronger or smarter if he took time off?

So you wouldn’t say it. “I’m proud of you,” you decided to say instead, propping your head on the table with your elbow. “You work very hard, and I am grateful for everything you do for me and our family.” You got up and put both of your bowls in the sink. You leaned down to Bakugou’s face and cupped his cheek in your hand. He closed his eyes and sighed into your touch. “But I would love you, even if you didn’t,” you admitted, gently kissing his cheek. You stood back up and offered him your hand. When he took it, you slowly and gently led him down the hall and to your shared bedroom.

Bakugou practically fell into bed when you got there. On his belly, he looked away from you. He had to look away from you when he asked, because he couldn’t see your face when he said what he wanted to say. He couldn’t see the judgment in your eyes, or the relief, whichever would be the outcome. “Will you do me a favor?” he asked. “Can you call the agency? Someone on-call will answer. Tell them I’m not going in tomorrow.”

“Really?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s long overdue.”

So you did. You called the agency, and a lovely security guard at the front desk answered. You had met him a few times, so he knew who you were immediately by the sound of your voice, also the fact that “Mrs. Dynamight” was your label on all the company phones. You told him that Bakugou needed some time off, and that it was going to at least be the day. The security guard agreed that he needed the break, and that he would make sure people knew only to call if it was a dire emergency.

When you laid back down in bed with him, he was drifting off to sleep. But Bakugou pulled you into his grasp and nestled his head into your chest. “Thank you…” he muttered before he drifted off to sleep for several hours of peaceful rest. 

Well, it wasn’t quite “several hours.”

Bakugou was awake before sunrise, just as he always was when his alarm went off. He longed to go back to sleep, but he just couldn’t. He was so used to just getting up and going about his day. How was he just supposed to lay back down and go to sleep?

Katsuki sat propped up on his elbow, staring at you for several minutes as you slept. You were on your back, facing towards him. God, you were beautiful. Even like this, when you were snoring and drooling, you were perfect. He sat and remembered how patient you had always been, how thoughtful and caring. You always knew what he needed. How was he ever supposed to repay you for everything that you did? You kept him fed. You made sure he got rest. You reassured him when things were bad. You did the most difficult parts of his job for him, and you made it easy for him to admit that he needs help, even if it was just from you.

You were perfect. And he was going to make it up to you.

He started with his hands. You were wearing nothing but some shorts and a spaghetti strap tank top. His rough hand, as callused as always, rested on your face, caressing your cheek. Thank you, he thought. Bakugou’s hand wandered down to your neck, grazing over your pulse, steady under his touch. You didn’t stir. You were probably taking advantage of the severe lack of alarm going off right now. 

Soon, his hands were on your belly, and his kisses were against your ear, your neck. You breathed deeply as you stirred from your sleep. “Kats?” you asked. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” he answered. “Thank you.” He continued his trail of kisses down your neck to your collarbone and your shoulders. The shoulders that carried everything he couldn’t. The weight of being a parent. His attitude, at times. His lack of compassion for himself and others. It had to be heavy. His kisses lingered there, suckling and nibbling on the flesh that was there. 

They traveled lower to your chest, his lips just above your heart. The heart that loved him as he was, the one that beat for him, just as his heart beat for yours. He was grateful that it was still there, after so much neglect from him. 

You couldn’t help but smile and tangle your fingers in his hair. Bakugou looked up at your face in the dark. You looked so serene as he poured his love over you. 

And truthfully, this was the most at-peace you had felt in the six months since Bakugou had taken a day off. He worked so much you barely saw him. And when he came home at night to your love and affection, he barely said two words to you. He was so exhausted that he couldn’t truly function as a full person. And you knew how hard he worked to make the city safe, not just for you and Kisara, but for everybody. He texted you lots throughout the day to check in, and you never had any doubt that he loved you. But god, you missed him, and you always secretly hoped that someday he would come home and realize how much he missed you too. 

And he did miss you. All the time, constantly, every second of every day. But Bakugou felt so much pressure from everyone, from the time he was born, and even now that he was an adult. He had to be great. He never once stopped to think that being great also included being a good husband and father, too.

So now, he kissed you lower, his lips pressing to your belly. The belly that carried his daughter for nine months. The one that tasted all the dinners he made you at the beginning of your relationship. The one that would carry whatever other children you wanted to have in the future. It was soft and strong and perfect, just like the rest of you. 

Then he got to the soft elastic waistband of your shorts. “Can I?” he asked, his thumbs gently caressing your hips. 

“Mhm,” you answered. Katsuki was being so soft, so careful. You weren’t sure you had seen him this soft since three years ago, when little Kisara was born. How could you say no?

So you lifted your hips enough for him to pull your shorts and underwear off, discarding them onto the floor next to the bed. You sat up to pull off your tank top too, before laying back down underneath him. Bakugou’s eyes glazed over as he stared blissfully at your perfect body. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he uttered as he got closer to your body again. 

His kisses began again, now on your hips and your thighs. These legs ran around all day taking care of everyone and everything, including him. And of course, you were happy to do those things for him. You loved him, and he loved you. But he knew your legs had to be exhausted. They needed love and attention, Bakugou decided. He kissed every inch of your thighs, massaging them lightly as you closed your eyes in a mixture of bliss and anticipation. 

And then there was your sex. It was perfectly designed for him, Bakugou thought. He caught your scent, and he remembered how addictive your pussy was. He remembered the way he used to lay between your legs for hours at the beginning of your relationship, when things were still new and you were fucking like rabbits every night for several months. Katsuki ran a finger between all your folds and over your clit, watching to see what made you twitch the most. 

“I love you, Y/N,” he said before he gently licked between your pussy lips. You raised your hips into this mouth, and you let out an elongated sigh. God, his tongue felt good. You hadn’t been spoiled like this in a long time. You laid there, stunned as he attached his mouth to your clit. 

Katsuki’s tongue explored your folds and played in your slick, taking in every ounce of taste and smell that he possibly could. He wanted to be addicted to you again. He wanted you to feel how addicted he was. He wanted you. That was all. Just you. 

His tongue danced in your pussy, flickering over your clit and making your back arch for him. Bakugou’s rough hands glided over your legs and your hips, his arms wrapped around your thighs to pull himself closer into you. Your hands tangled in his hair and tugged, just hard enough for him to feel. Your sighs stayed quiet, your worst nightmare being waking up your daughter from sex. 

Katsuki pulled his tongue away, and he opted to rub your pussy with his hands for a minute. He just wanted to look at you. He just wanted to help you relax, just like you always helped him. Selfish, he thought. It might have been selfish to want to just watch as you squirmed and arched for him. But he did anyway, doing his best to make you feel as good as possible with his fingers. 

“Katsuki~” you moaned for him, “please, I need your tongue.”

“Mm,” he hummed in response before reattaching himself to your pussy. The way you gasped and sighed in that moment was addictive. Bakugou wished he could rewind and hear it for the first time all over again. He played in your pussy with his tongue to find your most sensitive spots. You were perfect. You were perfect, and you were somehow his. How did he go this long without making you feel this special. 

You gripped the sheets next to you on the bed, getting closer and closer to that high that you were so desperately wanting right now. The feelings were too much. All at once, you felt all of the love you’d been missing, all the joy you had been craving for the past several months.

It was almost like he could see the desperation in your eyes, the way your hand frantically gripped the sheets as you headed toward the edge of your orgasm. As if he was reading your mind, Bakugou reached up and tenderly grabbed your hand as he made contact with the most sensitive pieces of you. 

With your free hand, your fingers tangled in his hair and tugged again, inching closer and closer to the orgasm you’d been slowly approaching. You were perfect. You needed this. Bakugou knew it now, and he was becoming addicted to the thought of you squirming for him, your cum gushing into his mouth. 

And just as he was thinking those thoughts, you tumbled over the edge into orgasmic bliss, your climax washing over your body like it hadn’t in months. You were tired. You were needy. You were his. 

You couldn’t help but let out an extended moan as you tugged on his hair and pushed your pussy into his face involuntarily. 

Katsuki got up and laid on top of you, propping himself up with his hands. He pressed kisses over your face, starting with your forehead. They were tender, loving, something you hadn’t noticed from him in months. Of course, you were happy to take care of him and your little family. You just needed some proof that it was worth it. “I’m sorry,” Bakugou said as he laid down next to you and wrapped you in a firm hug. “I’m sorry I’m not here more.”

“It’s okay,” you answered, nestling yourself into his muscular figure. 

Bakugou shook his head. “It’s not,” he admitted, pulling the blankets back up over your shoulders. “You deserve better. You take such good care of me, of our baby. I’m gonna be better.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the notion. The thought of your husband being home, of being a family again, was almost too much. 

You fell back to sleep hoping that you weren’t dreaming. 

This work was written by Abigail "Billie" Rothenberger. Please do not copy this work on Tumblr or any other platform.

[lixiesfreckless]

Love Shot | c. j.

➸ synopsis: Were you best friends with a cupid? Yes.

When your favorite cupid manages to shoot himself with his own arrow though, you realize you may be best friends with the clumsiest cupid in the heavens.

➸ starring: choi jiung x female reader

➸ word count: 2.5k words

➸ general content: cupid!jiung, the reader is a succubus(demon that typically appears in men's dreams or wakes them up to have sexual intercourse), there is somewhat of a power imbalance between the reader and jiung thanks to the latter's innocence, smut

➸ warnings: like one swear word, kissing, grinding, piv, creampie, corruption(?)

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author's note: don't get it twisted, this was not self-indulgent(is lying), this was all for the beloved @ashonheavenscloud whose birthday was yesterday. welcome to the double decade club bestie <3

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! you don't need to listen to it while reading(especially if the lyrics will bother you), but I really thought Touch by Keshi kind of encapsulated the thoughts/feelings in jiung's head.

“So let me get this straight,” you say, putting down your cherry-cola bottle on the kitchen peninsula. The man panting against the wall watches your every movement as he waits for you to speak.

“You went to a nightclub to finish your matchmaking quota, and forgot to make yourself invisible,” you recall, fighting a laugh, “and some drunk guy stumbled into you and you ended up shooting yourself?”

Jiung gulps and nods frantically, not having moved from the space next to your front door since you dragged him into your apartment, originally frightened by his helpless disposition. But now you slap a hand against your thigh, doubling over in laughter as you mull over the absurdity of his situation.

“And you came to me, of all people?”

“You’re the only person I thought wouldn’t laugh at me for something like this!”

“So sorry to disappoint,” you sigh, wiping a tear away. Jiung has half a brain to pout at you before he slides further down the wall, hands grasping at the flat surface for something to hold onto as his face contorts again.

“God, it just keeps getting more intense,” he nearly whines, eyes rolling back before his head falls forward. “What happens when a cupid shoots himself with his own arrow?”

“Right, ask the succubus if she knows why the silly cupid is in pain.” You remember the pain relievers in your cabinet, and decide to save your best friend, if only for a few hours.

“I’m not-” his breath hitches, and he bites down on his lip to muffle what you’re sure would have been a scream. “Do I look like I’m in pain?”

“Yes,” you nearly laugh again, incredulous at his stubbornness. He moves off the wall, nearly tumbling into your favorite chair with a whimper, and the sound makes you reconsider your answer. “Actually, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were-”

You halt your search for ibuprofen as you turn to look at Jiung, breathless and pink and slumped in a chair with his eyebrows knitted together. His uniform white button-down was nearly all the way unbuttoned now, and you remember Jiung claiming that you had raised the temperature of your apartment when you in fact, had not. 

Holy shit.

Maybe he had come to the right person, albeit unknowingly.

“Jiung, I want you to be very specific this time,” you say slowly, closing the door of your cabinet and exiting the kitchen. “Tell me about when you started feeling this way.”

“O-Okay, um…” 

You sit near him on a couch, eyes trained on him as he stares at the carpeted floor.

“I was walking home from the club; I left right after I got shot, because I was scared,” he explains through labored breaths, “and then I realized that I was nearing the hotel you’re staying at.”

You nod, not finding anything strange about that string of events.

“The…feeling started right after I thought about you, though.”

“What feeling?”

“Uh…” Jiung thinks for a moment before slapping a hand over his mouth, muffling what is probably the most desperate sound you've ever heard from him before continuing. “I don't really have a word for it? I'm just hot…and tingly all over…and a little dizzy.”

“And that started just because you remembered my hotel room?”

Jiung flushes an even deeper pink.

“...no.”

No?

Oh.

“Then what were you thinking of?”

He shakes his head, bouncing his leg against the chair.

You take note of his line of sight and leave the couch, kneeling on the ground beside his legs. He quickly averts his gaze, not wanting to stare at your shorts or your thighs or your anything, afraid the feeling will only get worse.

“Jiung,” you whisper, taking his hand off of the armrest and holding it, “it's okay. You can tell me.”

“I can't.”

“You can.” You stand up and brush some strands of hair away from his face, giving you a clear view of his blown out pupils as you lean over him and rest one hand on the chair. His eyelashes flutter at your touch, but he still won't look at you, so you gently grasp his chin and lift it.

He looks into your eyes for all of three seconds before his resolve shatters.

“I thought about you when you came back from work the other day,” he confesses, not breaking eye contact. “You were wearing this tight dress and you looked so pretty in it, and I wanted to…” He trails off and bites his lip, and you can't tell if he's withholding his thoughts from you again or if he genuinely has no clue what he wanted.

“You wanted to…?” 

“God, I don't know. I just wanted you close to me.”

From how you're holding his chin, you allow your thumb to move upwards slightly, sliding against his plush pink bottom lip. He blinks at you rapidly and shivers, not sure what to make of the way you're staring at his mouth.

“Jiung, is it okay if I kiss you?”

His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, legs finally stilling.

“S-Sure,”he whispers, eyes darting all over your face once you start to lean closer, “I don't know how that would help, but-”

“Just let me know if you want me to stop,” you cut him off, and he fully relaxes back into the chair before you lightly graze your lips against his.

His eyes flutter shut and you get to work, leaning in fully and pressing your mouth to his as your hand slips behind his neck, tangling itself in ash-colored locks that reside there. Jiung has seen humans kiss before, but he's never paid it any mind, never understanding why they would want to embrace each other in that way. Now, he's never understood them more as he reacts so quickly to your touch, whimpering the moment your lips lock and trying to suppress the shivers that run through his body at the trace of your tongue.

The feeling of your mouth on his is borderline euphoric, tendrils of heat licking at every part of him before you tilt his head, allowing you access to the inside of his mouth as your lips slant against his. He doesn't know why he had never wanted to do something like this with you; in this moment he feels as though he could die a happy man, with your hands tugging on his tresses.

And then you were doing something different, something worse; you start leaving kisses in other places too, against his cheek, against his jaw, even up by his ear, a place that was so sensitive that he felt that he might explode once your lips brush against it.

“Jiung, do you know why you started to have this feeling after you thought about me?” You whisper, leaving a kiss right below his earlobe. The hand that was holding you up off the chair moves to his jean-clad thigh, and Jiung can barely choke out a response.

“N-No?”

“It's because you got turned on,” you explain, now moving your lips down to his even more sensitive neck. God, is there a place you could touch him where he wouldn't feel like exploding?

“Turned on? Like a computer?” You laugh against his neck and nod, and he gets drunk on the melody of your voice, wondering how you'd sound if the roles were reversed. “How do I turn myself off?”

“You need a release.”

“How do I…” he pauses, hardly able to catch his breath. “How do I do that?”

“First you need to build up tension,” you say, slowly sliding your hand up his thigh. “Like this.”

Before he can ask what you're doing, your fingers find his clothed erection, gently adding pressure in a way that has his insides twisting. Kissing seems to ease some of the burning feeling he was experiencing, but this? Already he’s starting to feel some relief.

“Doesn't that feel good?” You purr, pressing harder and earning a needy whine from him.

“That feels…”

Unbuttoning his waistband, you pull down his fly and slip your hand inside, grasping him fully over his boxers. The cupid gasps under you, obviously not prepared for the feeling of your cool fingers around his girth.

“Better?” You ask, squeezing him for good measure.

“Better,” he groans, not being able to tear his eyes away from the sight of your hand on his crotch. Once you start moving your hand again however, he's about to lose himself in the sensation before he looks up, noticing your concentrated demeanor.

“Are you turned on too?”

“Yes,” you nearly chuckle, finding his naïveté endearing. “Ideally it goes both ways.”

“Then let me help you release too,” he pleads, guilt following the wave of pleasure that crashes over him. “I don't wanna be selfish.”

Poor sweet Jiung. Always thinking of others even when he practically has a temptress within reach.

Removing your hand from his pants, you pull back and push his knees together, and before he can whimper at the complete loss of your touch, you kick off your slippers and cage his hips with your knees, straddling him. He doesn't see how this is supposed to build tension until you sit down fully, connecting your hips together and adding back the pressure that he craves so desperately.

You take one of his hands that's gripping the armrest and pull it towards you, guiding him to cup one of your breasts over your camisole.

“Just be gentle and go slow,” you instruct, leaning back in to kiss him despite his widened eyes, “the key is being able to read your partner.”

He barely nods before you're driving him crazy again, slotting your lips together and kitten licking the inside of his mouth. He finds himself kissing back with less restraint, returning your ministrations in earnest and noticing how your breath catches every time his teeth tugs against your bottom lip.

After a few seconds of heated kissing, he tests the waters with a light squeeze of his occupied hand, and a sound he could only describe as absolutely mesmerizing falls from your lips. Subsequently, all reservations he has suddenly evaporates, selfishly wanting to hear you more.

And as he gently massages you, pulling different sounds from you depending on how he caresses you, he thinks back to that dizzying moment on the street. He had never thought about you in that way, had never understood why your tight clothing drew men like moths to a flame, could not see how your particular cadence of speaking was so hypnotizing to the human ear.

Now, with you on top of him and starting to grind your hips over his, he wishes that damned arrow had shot him sooner.

“Can I…” he breathes, unlocking your lips for a moment, “can I kiss you in other places too?”

You nod and move your fingers downward, desperate to unbutton the rest of his shirt and get rid of it.

He's hesitant at first, but the way you're moving on top of him dissolves his shyness and he leans in, ghosting his lips above your pulse point.

He starts to leave kisses just as you undo the last button.

“Jiung,” you whimper, pushing his dress shirt back to hold him by his bare shoulders. His entire body ignites at the sound of your needy voice, his free hand quickly leaving the armrest in favor of gripping your waist. A sense of urgency fills his veins, and although he can't understand what all the rush is for, he can't help but want to please you as fast as he can, desperate to hear his name uttered in such a way again.

You're grinding down on him hard now, driving the cupid absolutely insane while he kisses any skin he can find. His skin is borderline feverish as you grip him tight, determined to reach your own high alongside his.

If Jiung is anything though, he's a damn good listener.

He's only had a few minutes to observe your reactions to his ministrations, and yet he feels as though he's been intimate with you for years, already knowing the ways you prefer to be touched and kissed. So he does exactly what you need him to, hands slipping under your top to run his thumbs along your bare chest, rubbing gentle circles against your hardened buds.

You cry out in beautiful agony, collapsing into his shoulder as you reach your climax. Even the heaven’s chorus doesn't compare to your voice; he doesn't think he could get drunk off of a sweeter sound.

As you come down from your high, you fumble with Jiung’s pants, lifting yourself off of him temporarily to pull them down along with his boxers, just enough so that his length springs free. You don't hesitate to discard your shorts before climbing back onto him and taking it into your hand, hardly giving him any time to react as you sink yourself down onto him. Thanks to your slippery arousal, the action is done with hardly any resistance, and your hips meet his in record time as he gasps.

The sensation proves to be way too much for the cupid however, since after you sink down on him, he only lasts three seconds in your wet warmth before tipping his head back, his face the picture of bliss as he paints your insides white with a drawn-out moan.

The room finally falls silent again, both of you taking in the recent events as you try to catch your breaths. A part of you says you should probably get off of him, but a much louder part of you yells at you to stay put, wanting to relish this shred of intimacy you've been granted.

“How long do the effects of your arrows usually last,” you gasp out, still sensitive and hyper aware of his presence inside you.

“I'm not…that powerful yet,” he sighs, breath hitching slightly as you shift on top of him to look at him. He's a gorgeous mess, hair disheveled, face flushed, and lips swollen. You never thought you'd be able to see your best friend like this, even after years of daydreaming about it. “A couple days max, from what I can tell.”

Damn, that's not as long as you'd hoped. But, with the nature of heaven’s laws, you suppose you should be grateful for this minor slip-up.

“I still have a few vacation days left,” you casually throw out, avoiding eye contact for the first time all night. “You know…in case you'd wanna-”

Jiung doesn't hesitate this time, leaning in to catch your lips with his once more.

extra author's note: I've had this idea for a while, but I've always wanted to know if anyone else has pondered what the effects of a cupid's arrow would do to a cherub. in my head, cupids can't really feel the full range of human emotions/desires because they aren't human. so taking the effect from an arrow, that on a human, would cause someone to become hopelessly infatuated with someone else, would just unlock those emotions/desires that were unobtainable before for a cupid...? don't think about it too hard, this is all in good fun(and to torture my bestie ofc <3)

do not copy or repost. all rights reserved.

[pluckyredhead]

Please ship Orion and Lightray with me, thank you

If you've been reading my Fourth World posting, you might have noticed me mentioning Orion and Lightray's relationship. This is because they're in love and I'm obsessed with them. Please join me in grumpy/sunshine-but-they're-alien-demigods hell, with visual references below.

So Orion, as we know, is the son of Darkseid who was raised on New Genesis but has always felt different and monstrous compared to his peers. Lightray is his best friend, who thinks Orion is just the best thing since sliced bread and says so constantly.

This is literally how we're introduced to them, in New Gods #1:

Lightray: Don't be sad. Hug time! Orion: Hugs are not for one such as me. But you're still my best friend. Lightray: Please let me enter your chambers. Orion: NO THEY ARE TOO DARK. Lightray: D:

This panel, from #6, sums up their whole dynamic really well:

Lightray doesn't crave battle the way Orion does but he is determined to stay by his side, while Orion doesn't want Lightray to fight beside him because he thinks Lightray is too good and pure to be tainted by violence.

Zero personal space.

So one of the things about Orion is that his real face is sort of brutish and not traditionally handsome (the eyebrows are WILD), but he uses his Mother Box (like a living pocket computer that loves you) to make himself look more like the people of New Genesis. In #8, he gets into a knock-down, drag-out fight with his half-brother Kalibak that nearly kills them both, and Mother Box can't maintain the illusion (and also his face is, like, pulverized). And then this happens:

I WEEP. LIGHTRAY LOVES YOU JUST THE WAY YOU ARE, ORION.

New Gods was canceled soon after this, but when Kirby returned a decade later, he went all in on the homoerotic devotion. So Orion goes to Apokolips to kill his dad and rescue his mom, and who do you think follows him?

That second panel makes me laugh so hard. "Here, honey, you forgot your Scooty Puff Jr!"

My favorite thing about this is that Lightray is playing dumb. He shot at Orion earlier and then said something vague about missing on purpose...but he didn't:

HE REALLY TRIED TO WOUND ORION ENOUGH TO STOP HIS SUICIDE MISSION. And the way he just shuts his eyes and takes Orion's anger because he doesn't care what happens as long as he saves his friend's life...! (Orion doesn't hurt him, they just touch each other a lot.)

Anyway they argue for multiple pages, with Orion insisting that Lightray go home and Lightray insisting that he stay, until finally:

This is so intensely romantic and also so unintentionally hilarious that I can't stand it. The homoerotic gazing into one another's eyes and then the stupid mutual thumbs up! Whatever is going on with that closeup of Orion in the second panel! I die!

...And you know who else dies? Orion! Or at least he comes very close (it's unclear), but is rescued by a freedom fighter named Himon and nursed back to health by Himon and his daughter Bekka. We get a little romance between Orion and Bekka, but we also get Lightray coming to visit:

That is some FULL CONTACT wrestling, boys. Orion pinning Lightray to the ground while telling him it's good to see him is so much, but the fourth panel is even mucher. My goodness.

And then things get serious, because they both believe they are going to die in the upcoming battle (they don't), so they bid each other farewell and Lightray leaves, and then:

Orion yells after Lightray how smart and funny he is and then collapses in despair because his friend is gone. "HOW LIKE A WANDERING STAR HE SEEMS." Oh my god, Orion.

That's it for Kirby, so I'll move on to other writers and artists, but I want to clear that I'm only sharing the most intense scenes between them. There are so many panels, from Kirby and others, of Lightray faithfully following Orion around, joyously welcoming him back to New Genesis, gently teasing him, and talking about how brave and noble he is. And of Orion only smiling for Lightray, going feral when he gets hurt, and telling him he's too good and pretty for battle. And of the two of them touching each other. A lot.

Literally just two random examples. THEY DO THIS SHIT ALL THE TIME.

The next really big moment comes in New Gods (1995), where the Source (basically God/Heaven) becomes corrupted and Lightray goes evil and Orion has to beat him up to stop him and I will never ever ever recover from these pages:

"You want the beast? Do you like it?" on its own is...hoo boy, SOMETHING. But it is eclipsed by the tremulous "Maybe...maybe if I can just hold him" and Orion gathering Lightray up in his arms while telling him he loves him. LIKE. THIS IS SO MUCH. (P.S. Lightray's fine don't worry. And yes, he does want the beast.)

Then we get to Orion (PLEASE read this comic) and the biggest smile Orion has ever smolt:

Look at how happy he is!!! You need to understand that his mother died in his arms ten minutes ago and he's still like "Lightray! Omg hi!!!" (To be fair, his mother was terrible.) Plus bonus unnecessary touching, Lightray's love language being gifts, and Orion giggling and twirling his hair while going "Omg you're so smart."

(Also, when Lightray mentions his "brief but troubling visit" to Apokolips in the second panel, what's not saying is that he put on a silly disguise and went to see a fortuneteller to try to figure out if Orion's mom was lying about Darkseid not being his real dad (she was; again, she was terrible), and when the fortuneteller is like "You DARE come to Apokolips?!" he goes "I would dare anything for my friend!" I know you would, honey. I know you would.)

The next bit requires some explanation. So, as briefly as possible: Orion kills Darkseid (or so he thinks), takes over Apokolips, and tries very hard to change it for the better. He also accidentally gains possession of the Anti-Life Equation, the formula Darkseid is always searching for that eradicates free will, and gradually is driven to use it to FORCE everyone on Apokolips to be good. And Earth. And New Genesis.

Eventually, Orion is seemingly killed, but actually he's been teleported somewhere unfathomably far away, where he realizes what he's done and sinks into suicidal despair. In the midst of this, he manages to both destroy the Anti-Life Equation AND save all of reality (and nearly die in the process), but he still thinks that because he used the Equation, he's irredeemable and doesn't deserve to exist.

So when he's teleported back to Earth and captured by a human who blinds him and rigs him up to a torture device so that he can drain Orion's life force and use it to be eternally youthful, Orion just...lets it happen. Because he thinks he deserves it. For SEVEN MONTHS.

But eventually he's like "Wait...I deserve this, but probably whatever is being done with my energy is not good and I should stop it." He tries to escape but only manages to let out a single scream.

Luckily, Lightray has been searching for him nonstop for those seven months, despite the face that Orion is supposed to be dead. And then we get this:

To be clear: this is sweet, gentle Lightray absolutely obliterating the men who kept Orion in the torture device.

Nakey.

Lightray gives Orion the crushed remnants of his wrist cuffs, and Orion does a magical girl transformation about it:

For everyone playing along at home, that's the second time Orion has canonically told Lightray that he loves him.

Anyway, Orion goes off to get revenge on the guy who did this to him (it's very satisfying, please read Orion), and then he's depressed some more until he has some brotherly bonding time with Scott and finally feels well enough to go back to New Genesis. His last line of dialogue in the series is "For it is late, and the sunrise and friend Lightray await us in the gleaming city of the gods." OKAY!

Tragically, almost every New Gods appearance after this is complete dogshit, although there is a great moment in Hal Jordan and the Green Lantern Corps (a Rebirth series) where they need information from Orion but he's comatose so they bring in a telepath and the only word he can get out of Orion's mind is "Lightray." I'LL BET.

IN CONCLUSION: Orion and Lightray love each other so so much and I believe it is honoring Jack Kirby's legacy to think about them smooching. It's what the King would have wanted!

[artbyblastweave]

I was thinking the other day that Red Hood is a compelling character but inherently an extremely high context one. It's really obvious that he's a character who required the two-decades and change of publication history, editorial evolution and fandom debate that it took for him to bake. Red hood presupposes, bare minimum:

that there's an established Batman/Joker rivalry that's been going for a while

That Batman has gotten past the year-one section of his career and brought at least one Robin into the fold

That after the crowbar incident Batman has continued to operate as Batman for a significant amount of time

That the version of the DCU you're looking at includes some method of resurrection, be that the Lazarus Pit or the retcon punch

Ideally, you'd have Dick Grayson as Robin first, because you obviously lose a lot of the crunch if Jason doesn't exist uncomfortably in Dick's shadow prior to his death, but if you had an executive breathing down your neck about how the narrative has too many moving parts you could maybe drop this

On top of all this the story arc also presupposes audience familiarity with the out-of-universe debate about the no-kill rule, and moreover it presupposes that the version of Joker you're looking is specifically awful enough that there's an actual utilitarian argument in favor of breaking the no-kill rule- Can't do Under the Red Hood with Ceaser Romero's take on the character. You may or may not have had time to establish his track record.

Oh, yeah, and it's gotta be a version of the continuity where the censors let you kill people on screen! Nearly forgot that. I recall thinking that despite the obvious scramble to introduce all the priors, Under The Red Hood was remarkably effective for being able to import everything it needed to create the sense of time, place and progression of Batman's character, the very specific point in his development where you need to catch him for Red Hood to make any sense. By contrast I remember thinking that the half-hearted attempt to backport Red Hood into the DCAU in the comics-IIRC he actually post-dates that continuity- was just very obviously doomed, like come on, you're trying to cram a third robin into an established timeline? You already made a decision to hopscotch him when you went right from Dick to Tim, no backsies! There are other characters I bucket like this, characters who I think have some there-there, but are immensely high-context in a way that seems tough to negotiate in an adaptation. Miles Morales is one, and I was amazed at how gracefully the Spider-verse films navigated that, how gracefully something with a four-or-five hour runtime integrated the broader concept of continuity lockout/creep/what-have you into the story. Power Girl is another, and they've never really figured out how to integrate her as far as I'm aware- Galatea in JLU being the closest I know of. I have no doubt that if I were more familiar with the Teen Titans side of things I could start rattling off ancillary characters from that space. I don't have anywhere in particular I was going with this, I just think about this category of character a lot.

[hyacinthsdiamonds]

Not liking a driver does not give you a free pass to bodyshame them, or to wish literal death and severe harm on them, or to be racist and/or xenophobic towards them. Not liking a team doesn't give you a right to do the above to those afflicted with the team either, or to be misogynistic towards the women involved with those teams. Not liking which team or driver someone supports, does not give you a right to do any of the above.

The drivers and the teams may never see the hate you spill but wait. We all know that they do;

Nicolas Latifi got such severe death threats he had to hire security

I'm not touching on the disgusting racist abuse faced by many of the drivers because there has been far too much to easily unpack but I do want to note that it got so bad last year that Alex for instance got such severe abuse last year his fans had to tell his family to go offline for a few days (not to forget the people who made up conspiracies about him and used his mother's past as a means to justify the abuse they were directing towards him).

I'll never forgot the amount of sexist hate directed at Hannah Schmitz, one of the few and one of the most recognizable women in the paddock who has lead red bulls strategy department the last couple of years, - because apparently women in motorsport are only valid if they're not under the red bull umbrella - which got so bad multiple of the drivers called it out publicly.

The multiple conspiracies created about and general racial discrimination faced by Yuki and Zhou which was and continues to be encouraged and spread by primarily the English speaking journalists and commentators

Let's not forget the sexist chants sung about Sophie Kumpen; Max's mother at Monza, or the literal death threats that were sent to his sister and young nephews.

The way some of you talk about Michael Schumacher, I don't have the words. The ski jokes has not once in the last decade been funny.

I could go on and on. I could literally do this all day.

Sure the drivers might never see it but that doesn't mean nobody will and we all see how conditional any form of your allyship is. "Racism is wrong unless it's about x, sexism is wrong unless it's about y, death threats are wrong unless it's about z, etc". Do better. You cannot claim the moral high ground, if you do any of the above, no matter how much higher you perceive yourself to be than the person you're directing the above towards.

As for death wishes or crash wishes, cop yourselves on to fuck. I would never wish what I've been through, what my family has been through, on my worst enemy, let alone some driver I'll probably never even meet. F1 is nowadays a safe enough sport but that has not always been the case and there is still no 100% guarantee of completely safety. The risk is still there even with all the advancements in safety. So many drivers have lost their lives or have had their lives altered forever as a result of a crash. Some of the drivers on the current grid are directly impacted or know those whose lives have been lost or altered because of a crash. Nearly everyone on that grid has a story. Some of you have their photos as your icons as you wish literal death and injury on their coworkers, their friends. They would be beyond disgusted by you. I can name far too many drivers who lost their lives in this sport, it shouldn't take naming them to make people realize that wishing for some to die like they did is a disgusting act. If it were to come true, would you celebrate? Would you cheer as the red flag came out? I don't think I want to know the answer, considering some of the things I've seen in the main tags over the last couple of years (see that one person who wanted to violently and literally stab and kill a driver or see that disgusting poll about which way would be best to literally kill another driver).

Don't start with but x did this or y fans did that, if they jumped off a cliff, would you? Why are you so eager to lower yourself to what you feel are their low standards or morals? And I don't blame a driver for the actions of someone who calls themselves a fan while doing anything that I've mentioned in this post, because they're not fans, they're people who use the driver they claim to back as a shield and as an excuse for their appalling behavior.

Also, if you have to say "I don't like driver x but I agree nobody deserves this type of abuse", get rid of everything before the but. You don't have to like someone to offer them basic respect or human decency.

[luna-writes-stuff]

Run To The Water, Lucifer

Song link

Fanfic, gn! reader (more OC, but no specific appearances/names/pronouns are mentioned!)

Fluff, reunion, lore-heavy

Word count: 3826

Tw: mention of injuries, constant lower back pain (because I know I’m not the only one who struggles with this), some a la Prometheus eternal punishment thing. Mutual longing, God is an asshole. I think I swore maybe two times? Again - more OC than reader, but not entirely so idk. Not proofread.

Summary: Before mankind, there were angels and there was you. But unlike the angels, you weren’t created by God’s hands, and he loathed you for it. He used you as an inspiration for humans before trying to get rid of you. Now, years later, your favourite angel is running free again. And he comes to seek you out.

Buy me a coffee/force me to write more

Oh, desert speak to my heart. Oh, woman of the earth. Maker of children who weep for love. Maker of this birth.”

In the beginning, before mankind and capitalism and whatnot, Earth was a simple run ground for god and his angels. They got to run haywire, create things, destroy things, whatever would ‘inspire’ God, as he had put it. He came to create light, life, death - everything. But through everything he had made and everything he had prided himself on, he had never created you. You came into existence long before the humans, from a source no one truly knew. He could have left you there to rot: something that wasn’t his. It was almost an insult. Yet something about you made him give in, caused him to offer you shelter where his angels would be safe.

And as much as he initially hated you, he saw something in him that his angels didn’t show him: inspiration for his greatest creation yet. He kept you close only leaving you around his four most trusted sons when he was away. It never felt like a prison to you.

It didn’t, until Adam and Eve were created.

As they set their first steps on Earth, you were approached by a group of angels, claiming they were there to ‘escort you out’. You had followed them, had it not been for Lucifer, and his distrust towards his siblings. God had seen your purpose fit - you had become his greatest inspiration, mankind; an improved version of you. Or that is what he had believed. You were not his creation, therefore did not deserve to set foot on his land. And after he had realised his greatest invention, it was time to get rid of ‘that which was left’.

“'Til your deepest secrets are known to me, I will not be moved. I will not be moved.”

Lucifer had helped you hide from his father and siblings, making sure you were safe as they scavenged the Earth. For years, this worked. Humans evolved - though slowly - and Lucifer’s temper had begun to grow significantly worse.

It was after only a handful of decades that you were finally found. In his act of cruelty, God made his favourite son execute his ‘dumbest decision’, still unaware of the fact that it had been Lucifer who had kept you hidden all these years. That is when he snapped. He belittled humans, claiming them to be a cheap copy of you - which had held truth in it - and needy. God forgot his first children just to be able to rule his new playthings.

It was that fateful day that had led to his downfall. He was cast down from Heaven, forced to live upon the place that housed the creatures he hated most. He tried to rule Hell for a while, making sure you had still been safe. Even after centuries of humans coming into existence, angels kept looking for you everywhere. And though the search had significantly faded over time, you knew that if you were to announce your presence, they’d try to get rid of you as quickly as they could.

Many had believed you had died in those years. Though not nearly ageing as quickly as humans, you surely couldn’t be immortal. The opposite was proven when the angels landed their attack on Lucifer. It was when you had finally been captured, that Lucifer’s strength slowly began to face, until he was banished to the cage.

Since then, he hadn’t known what had happened to you, nor where you had been. And in his eyes, that had been a worse punishment than being kept in a cage.

“Don't try to find the answer When there ain't no question here. Brother, let your heart be wounded And give no mercy to your fear.”

God couldn’t kill you - the weakling. Instead, he stripped you off all that made you divine, save for your ageing process. You were forced to stay on Earth and live out the rest of your eternal life without a branch of special on you. You were quick to find out God had kept angels in your street, keeping constant vigilance. If you were to even say the wrong thing, he’d know.

It took a long time for you to adjust to simply living on the streets as everyone did. You had to reinvent yourself a ton of times in order to keep up the facade of being a mortal woman. But after a while, you learned to maintain a normal job, pay bills (as God had so horribly intended), make new friends, watch them grow old and happy, then ‘die’ of a sudden cardiac arrest. And the cruellest of it all, was the fact you couldn’t die, even if you wanted to. God would find a way to bring you back.

An eternal punishment for simply existing.

“Adam and Eve live down the street from me. Babylon is every town. It's as crazy as it's ever been. Love's a stranger all around.”

It was late when you returned home from work. One of the cons of turning more mortal was the constant ache in your lower back, and your incapability to heal it. All you really wanted to do when you came home was fall into your bed and not get out for a long time.

The walk home was silent, but what caught you off-guard was the lack of eyes on you. For the first time in decades, you didn’t have the constant feeling of being watched. And it caused an unsettling shiver to run down your spine. Angels weren’t one to give up on their tasks - not without a significant threat. And if it had taken them out, you weren’t safe to begin with.

With a quicker pace, you walked onto your patio, your keys gripped tightly in your hands in case someone would try to sneak up on you. Unlocking the door, you walked in, immediately locking it behind you. A long sigh escaped you when you heard the satisfactory click.

Kicking your shoes off and hanging your coat over a chair, you waltzed towards the couch, falling down onto it with an obnoxious huff. You turned the tv on, staring at the screen blankly, the words not fully registering.

Somewhere, in the back of your mind, something told you you were not alone. And though that usually brought a terrifying chill, this seemed somewhat comfortable.

“In a moment we lost our minds here, And lay our spirit down. Today we lived a thousand years. All we have is now.”

You sat upright, now scanning the room more intently. From the corner of your eye, you could see something move in the kitchen, followed by a light amount of noise. Not turning the tv off, you carefully walked towards the source, turning your head around the corner first.

You didn’t recognise the man in the kitchen. You did, however, recognise the faint glow emanating from him. No human held that glow, not unless their body was being used by someone else.

The scrubbing on the jacket halted, and you now noticed the bloodstains on it. You frowned at the sight, then dropped your shoulders as you noticed the small pile of already red-stained towels. When the man turned around, you came face to face with him, and it suddenly began to click why the room had felt so comfortable.

“Lucifer?”

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core but not broken.”

“You’re alive,” he breathed, before dropping the towel and walking up to you, pulling you into his figure. You hesitantly returned the embrace, still half in shock of what had just happened. For years, you believed God had killed his son, leaving you alive in terrible mockery, but the opposite was proven now. And in his eyes, he believed you had died as well. He went out on a gut feeling and found exactly what he had been looking for.

When his hands tightened on your back, you finally yielded, vehemently returning the embrace, burying your head in his chest. “You’re alive,” He repeated, one of his hands trailing to your hair, running his hand through it softly, as if frightened that notion would break you.

As you parted, his eyes remained on you, trailing over your figure as if to properly observe you. “You haven’t changed at all,” He muttered, before he took you into his embrace again. “I thought you died,” You managed to whisper, your eyes glued to his wings that had now become apparent.

“The feeling is mutual,” He sighed, keeping you at arm’s length when you heard a car pass by. His eyes trailed to the window, an instant glare building on his face. “We need to get out of here. Don’t worry about the angels,” He spoke in one breath, before looking at you again. “I took care of them.” “I figured,” You nodded, still at loss for words.

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. These streets below the moon.”

Outside, you heard car doors open, followed by heavy footsteps, walking towards your porch. “Lucifer,” A gruff voice cut through the tense silence. On the other side of your kitchen stood another person, one you easily recognised as angel. You furrowed your eyes at him in anger, all too familiar with angels and the way they perceived you. You didn’t miss the slight smile on Lucifer’s face as he looked at the angel.

“Too late, little brother.”

And with that, the two of you had left your home, now suddenly in the middle of a forest. You looked around quickly, your stomach churning as the brief travel ended. Your knees buckled underneath you, your hands extending to break your fall. Nausea settled in you as you tried to regain your breath, remaining hunched over. Lucifer observed you from a distance, his hands in his pockets.

“So,” He began, his voice slightly uncomfortable. “You mortal now?” You looked over your shoulder, sparing him a mocking smile: “Consider it your father’s greatest gift.”

His eyebrows raised the words, silently cursing his father for your punishment. “At least he didn’t kill you.” “Bastard couldn’t do it,” You muttered. “Claimed I reminded him too much of you.” “He’s always so sentimental.” Lucifer agreed.

“And I will never leave you, 'Til we can say, this world was just a dream. We were sleepin', now we are awake 'Til we can say.”

When you remained on the floor, your breathing unsteady, the fallen angel walked towards you. He frowned lightly at the sight of your discomfort. “You okay?” A groan came from you as you tried to sit upright, pain shooting through your lower back. “Just peachy.”

Lucifer’s lips formed in a thin line, observing your figure. “Right,” He spoke sarcastically. Then, he reached down, holding his hands on your shoulder. When he didn’t do anything else, you looked at him confused. The angel seemed conflicted, looking at you as if he was expecting you to say or do anything. When you didn’t say anything, he took a step back: “I can’t heal you.”

You sighed at that. Naturally, God decided to screw you over even more. “Curse that asshole,” You mumbled on your breath, before clumsily rising to your feet again. When you stumbled slightly, Lucifer’s hands found your waist quickly, keeping you in place.

“I’m fine.” You objected, even though your hands were now holding onto his lower arms. “Yeah, no.” He deadpanned, keeping you steady. “How the mighty have fallen.” You looked up through your lashes as he spoke those words.

“Don’t remind me.”

“In a moment we lost our minds here And dreamt the world was round. A million miles fall from grace. Thank God we missed the ground.”

He looked down at you for a short second before the scenery changed again. That same nauseating feeling entered your stomach as you fell down on something soft. You groaned in pain, curling up, almost as if trying to protect yourself. For a second, you forgot you were around Heaven’s most wanted, and simply laid down, taking a moment to regain your posture.

“No, this is amazing.” You objected as you sat up, now seeing you had landed in some kind of fancy five-star hotel room. It was then that you noticed you had fallen onto a huge bed, the blankets shifting underneath you. You looked at Lucifer with questioning eyes, not understanding why you were suddenly somewhere else.

“Humans need rest.” He just spoke, sitting on a chair next to the bed. “I’ll be fine.” You disagreed, preparing to get off the bed. Before you could set a foot on the floor, Lucifer shook his head, grabbing a book from seemingly nowhere.

“No, you won’t,” He sighed. “I’ll just wait here, I guess.”

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core, but not broken.”

You simply stared at him. Only minutes ago you were still convinced of his death, well-adjusted to a simple mortal life. And without preparation, he had appeared in your kitchen and whisked you away to who knows where.

You blinked twice at the realisation. You thought he was dead for years. And there he sat, directly in front of you. As if nothing had happened. Noting your eyes still on him, Lucifer looked at you from his seat: “What?” “They told me you died,” You breathed. “I thought I would be the only one left at the end of time.”

He lowered his book upon your words, an unsure expression on his face. You began to grow concerned you might have said the wrong thing. Who knew what he had been through all those years? It mustn't have been easy for him either. “Thought I’d be locked in a cage forever,” He ultimately spoke, halting your concerns. “Had to go through daily torment of mentioning my fall and your death to me.”

Though he spoke in a sarcastic tone, you knew his words were genuine. And as him, you did your best to lighten the situation. You could feel the conflict and pain radiating off of him, but you weren’t going to mention it to him. Not now. Instead, you spoke: “Guess our deaths were a little exaggerated.”

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. With a nuclear fire of love in our hearts.”

“Well, at least there’s still one good thing in this world.” He shrugged, and you couldn’t help but smile at his words, a heartfelt expression crossing your features. At your face, Lucifer slowly shook his, holding his hands up: “No. Forget I said anything,” Pointing towards your smiling figure, he gave you an accusing look. “That was a moment of weakness.”

You didn’t tease him about it. Perhaps later you would mention it again. For now, you just enjoyed his presence, his stupid remarks something you had missed for a very long time. When your smile finally faded, Lucifer just looked at you, his expression relatively neutral, even though you could feel the fondness in his gaze. Be that as it may, the words he spoke weren’t fond in any way. If anything, they had caught you off-guard.

“I’m gonna burn this place down. Restart the world in my image.” Ah yes, the infamous Apocalypse. Of course, you couldn’t forget about that. It was foretold. If anything, you had an idea the angels were planning something for a while now. They had begun to grow more secretive and silent over the last few months. You first thought they had started losing interest in you, but that had not been the case. They were simply preparing for a rematch with Lucifer.

You couldn’t help but understand his views, especially considering what the both of you had gone through in your history. Though your views hadn’t always been the same, you wanted to be at his side. It was the safest you had ever been, nor would ever be.

“Yeah, I can see it now, Lord Out beyond all the breakin' of waves And the tribulation.”

“What would that be?” You asked, to which Lucifer nonchalantly shrugged. “Less humans, more lightsabers.” Though he seemed fond of that idea, you didn’t laugh at it. “Maybe I’ll just wipe this world off the map. We could run to a remote planet.”

You couldn’t help but remain silent at his words, just staring at him, not sure what to do or say. And he had noticed, an oblivious ‘what’ coming out of his mouth. You blinked twice, forcing yourself back to reality. “I’ve spent lifetimes here now,” You answered, your voice much more gentle than you had intended. “I don’t know, there’s good things here too.”

He raised his eyebrows at your statement, testing your words. “Like what?” You shrugged. “I really like dogs.” “We can keep the dogs.” He quickly added, but so did you: “Music is pleasant.” “I’ll find a way.” He continued, to which you groaned in objection.

“Lucifer, humans aren’t evil.” “They’re a faulty copy of you!” He returned angrily. Not at you, but at his father. For daring to mock you in such a brutal way. For the way he wanted to get rid of you once he copied you to make his own creation. “A cheap replication.” He continued to rant. “I don’t want cheap replications when I can have the real thing.”

“It's a place and the home of ascended souls Who swam out there in love.”

“Thank you,” You whispered, unsure of what to answer, but you knew compliments were hard to come by from him. Even though that was true, you couldn’t help but already feel remorseful for losing the life you had known so well for the last few years. Sure, it had been torture for you, but all good moments came from humanity.

“I know the apocalypse is inevitable,” You tried to persuade, laying back down onto the bed. “But think it over.” With that, you turned around, facing your back to him.

“Think it over?” Lucifer repeated incredulously. “Humans are terrible! Have you not caught up with history of the last few years?” “I’ve lived it.” You called over your shoulder, not mad at him. In fact, you had grown kind of disappointed and sad upon the thought of humanity fading from existence. You knew Lucifer could actually do it if he really put the effort into it. “Humans aren’t inherently evil,” You went on. “If I remember correctly, it were the angels who wanted to kill everything.”

He was silent for a moment. Longer than you were used from him. You started to wonder if he might have left. Surely, he wouldn’t have done that.

“Run to the water And find me there. Burnt to the core, but not broken.”

“And that’s why they’ll go too.” He suddenly spoke, now laying next to you on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You let out of quiet sigh of relief upon his figure, scooting closer to him, but not enough to touch him just yet.

“And live in a world with just the two of us?” You tested. “Wouldn’t that grow…tedious?” You trailed off slightly, knowing you could speak your mind in front of the devil without risking him smiting you. Yet, it felt as if you were cursing him whilst he was directly in front of you.

“Tedious?” He echoed, chuckling as his head turned to face yours, silently assuring you he wasn’t insulted at all. In fact, it had entertained him slightly. You returned his smile, a light feeling entering your stomach upon finally seeing his joy again.

You remained laying there for a second, bathing in the glee of simply having you with him. The feeling seemed mutual, as you watched one of his wings wrap around your figure, pulling you against his body whilst his wing remained draped over you. His arm pulled you into his side, his hand coming to a rest on your side.

His touch was cold, though welcomed. You figured hell must have done a number on him - he had never been cold to touch before.

“We'll cut through the madness Of these streets below the moon. With a nuclear fire of love in our hearts.”

“Well,” He started, thinking out loud. “I could take over Heaven. Rule the string puppets from up there.” You placed your hand on his chest in agreement, a smile crossing your features as you pictured the demise of the angels who have taunted you and haunted you for centuries: “I am all for taking Heaven over.”

The angel chuckled at your comment, rubbing your skin in repeating patterns. “I know you are.”

Then, a second silence struck the pair of you, this one more comfortable, void of any tension of disagreement. The breathing of his chest was a soothing notion for you, all nausea from earlier now finally fading away. The ache in your lower back seemed to calm down slightly on the soft mattress. You silently wondered if Lucifer had felt it when he tried to heal you and got you something that would help with it.

“I’ve missed you so much,” He sighed, slight melancholy in the tone of his voice. “No one else will pay attention to me.” “You egocentric bastard,” You joked, getting comfortable in his arms.

“I missed you too, Lucifer.”

“Rest easy baby, rest easy. And recognize it all as light and rainbows, Smashed to smithereens and be happy.”

Perhaps it had been due to the adrenaline wearing off, you finally being in his arms again, or the fact that you simply had a very tiring day, but your eyelids grew heavier with every breath you took. Falling asleep in your earlier surroundings had always been difficult for you: angels were watching your every move. It was hard to feel safe under the gaze of those who swore to kill you not too long ago.

However, for the first time in a very long time, you finally felt safe. The familiar feeling of his heavy wing draped around you and his looming presence seemed to bring some special sense of comfort that you had longed for for so long.

And thus, Lucifer would spend the rest of the night in his new vessel, staring up at the ceiling for hours on end, not moving, just for you to get a healthy amount of sleep. Talking could happen later, and he had all the time in the world. His siblings wouldn’t find him. Not if he didn’t want to be found. And now, he wanted nothing more than to simply be forgotten by them and remain there.

Right there at that exact moment, he felt peace - something that he hadn’t felt in a long time, and wouldn’t feel again not much later.

“Run to the water. Run to the water.”

[mywifealhaitham]

may i request childhood bestfriends to lovers with goro akechi? for spice maybe they separate but reunite again when they're older

◟✶◝ childhood best friends with goro akechi

◟a/n◝ ok woah sorry this got so like angsty... I just kept yapping about everything but the lovers part 😞😞 sorry my brain will never write akechi happy

• you two originally met when his mother was alive, your parents were friends with her so you two naturally drifted towards eachother whenever the adults would hang out.

• you both got close over the years until his mother killed herself then you two got split apart. you both were so young and didn't fully understand the impact of everything, just that you went to her funeral with your parents and saw your dear friend akechi talking with some people in suits.

• you only saw him twice after that day. once was when he was walking with some adult on the street when you both were older. you wanted to rush over to him but your mind kept running, what if he forgot about you? or what if you'd remind him of the times were he had a mom? before you knew it he melted into the crowd of thousands. the second time was when you saw him on TV. by now you were a teenager and close to graduating and almost completely forgotten about him besides a few photos in a long forgotten about childhood photos book until you decided to eat your meal while watching TV that day.

• you nearly choked when his name appeared in a headline at the bottom of the TV screen, "young prince detective gives us a live interview here at...". you couldn't believe it. of course you knew that he grew up like you did but in your mind he was just a frozen picture of him as a child. as you fully abandon your food in favor of watching the TV you hope that fate will reunite you two again.

• and fate heard your call. about a week later when school was once again starting up you lazily zombie-walked to the train station. you stood by the platform in your unbuttoned shirt and undid tie when a stranger stood next to you. you glanced over at him when you two made eye contact. if you weren't awake by know then you surely were awake now because the stranger who stood next to you in this early morning was your old childhood best friend who was seemly frozen in your mind.

• you two politely smiled at eachother, both of your minds going into overdrive seemingly trying to process something that only really you understands. it's quiet for a few seconds before akechi tilts his head a bit before saying your name with a uncertain tone. you break out into a grin and come back to life with a gentle reply of his name.

• after that encounter in the train station and a seemingly long chat until the train came you two exchanged phone numbers to catch up. almost every night he wasn't busy you'd hang out with him and talk about everything that happened with you. he'd just smile and nod along to whatever you said. the only things he'd really tell you are stories about his job and how he came to be. you'd always notice a small glit in his eye when he talked about himself, almost like he wanted to say so much more.

• and there was so much more he wanted to spill. ever since he saw you at the train station he's been overjoyed. he'd never admit this thousands of decades but he's been thinking about you since forever. he could have easily tracked you down and reached out but the part of him that says he doesn't need human relationships kept him far away from you. now that your near him again he wants to tell you every feeling he's felt since you both got split apart.

• but he's the lovely young prince detective so he must stay composed in the presence of others, so he copies your energy towards him. if you continue to be ecstatic to see him again even though you both talked yesterday then he will match that energy. if you get more and more busy with other friends and can't hang out as much then suddenly he has more work that needs to be done. he will play any role as long as someone so dear to him doesn't leave.

• why does he do this for someone that half of his heart deems unless and unnecessary? it's because he loves you. it took him quite awhile to realize this and even longer to realize that it wasn't just a strong friendship but romantic love. and what makes it stronger is that you are his family, or the closest he has to it. you've see his dear mom and knew him before he locked all his past away and that's what makes him fall for you.

• whether you love him back or stay his closest friend is all up to you. akechi is a smart man so he has backup plans for everything. if your heart loves him back then he will do the best he can to keep you away from the phantom thieves and his schemes and show you only his good side, not letting any part slip. if you two just stay friends then he has no choice but to push you away slowly. it shatters his heart but he has duties that needs to be done and he can't keep letting his past haunt him.

[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 21

Hello! We're back with more Royal Pain. For the person(s) that thought the kiss meant the nearing of the end of the story: NOPE! We still have a bit to get through plot wise. Plus I don't usually go through past them getting together, and wanted to explore that a little before the end.

Also, where have my commenters gone? I used to get 10 or so comments a post and the last part of "Well Met By Moonlight" only had one. My usual commenters just didn't. If I have suggested in anyway that I don't like comments or don't appreciate them, know that I really, really do! And I miss it when people who used comment don't anymore. I'm not going to name names because this isn't a callout post, just a concern, I guess.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Today we have a replay reaction to the kiss by the Royal Pain crew, Wayne being wise (and mention of a ring that has always been a thing in the story, I just forgot to put it in before this oops!) and Chrissy getting some advice.

***

To say that Steve was practically squealing from joy when he got to his car would be an understatement. He put his bluetooth earpiece in his right ear and immediately called Robin.

“Are you okay?” she asked as soon as she picked up.

“Eddie kissed me!” he giggled excitedly.

“No fucking way!” she gasped.

“Not yet anyway,” he said slyly, pulling into traffic.

“Steven Joseph Harrington!” Robin squeaked. “You don’t get to make dirty puns like that unless I’m in hitting distance.”

Steve laughed. “Joseph isn’t my middle name.”

He could hear her snap her fingers. “I’ll guess it eventually.”

“It’s been nearly a decade and you still haven’t guessed it,” he reminded her. “I can make it harder though...”

“Don’t you dare!” she hissed. There was silence for a moment. “You can’t make it harder, can you?”

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “I can actually, but you told me not to.”

He could feel her narrow her eyes from across town as she weighed her options.

“Go ahead,” she said haughtily. “I don’t think you can.”

Steve grinned. “I have two middle names and you’ve never guessed either one.”

“You do not!” Robin hissed. “There is no way!”

“My parents were super traditional,” he told her. “My middle names come from each of my grandfathers.”

“Oh my god,” she said, “that makes so much sense.”

Steve licked his lips and waited. Five, four, three, two–

“Don’t you change the subject, Steven!” Robin came back. “Eddie kissed you.”

“He did indeed,” Steve said, “and I will tell you all about it when I get back to the shop. I’m like three minutes away.”

“I want to know everything!”

“I promise.”

*

Steve got to the shop and everyone was standing around the front counter, chins propped up on their hands, blinking at him expectantly.

He shook his head. “Menaces, the lot of you.”

Erica batted her eyelashes. “Yeah, but you like menaces.”

Steve tilted his head to the side and then nodded. “Yeah, yeah. But first I have to tell about my lunch with Wayne.”

Erica and Chrissy groaned, pushing off the counter and rolling their eyes. Robin and Argyle stayed in position though.

“Trust me,” Steve said holding his hands up, “it’s relevant to the story.”

“This better be good, Harrington,” Chrissy snarked.

“Oh it will be,” he said with a smile, “I promise.”

He started telling them everything. Wayne’s approval, the confrontation with Quinn, Eddie coming to the rescue, the kiss.

“Lunch was definitely relevant, dude,” Argyle said. “Getting parental approval is super important in a relationship. Especially if they’re close.”

Steve nodded. “So does the story live up the hype?” he asked the girls.

Robin rolled her eyes. “I suppose.”

Chrissy giggled. “It was so cute, Stevie. I’m happy for you!”

Steve waited for Erica, who sat there tapping her lips for a moment. She cocked her head. “Ehhh...it was all right.”

Everyone protested, talking over each other.

She burst out laughing. “God, you guys so easy. Of course it was awesome. Super sweet, too.”

Steve opened his mouth to say something when the bell over the door sounded, announcing the arrival of his next client.

He turned to greet them as everyone but Robin scattered. As much as he would love to gossip about his newly minted love life, he had clients that wanted tattoos.

*

Eddie kept licking his lips the whole way to his apartment.

“What made you change your mind?” Wayne asked. “About dating Steve? Him saying ‘I love you’?”

Eddie bit his lip and shook his head. “I had made the decision before that. It was just with Seth stalking me, I didn’t want to get Steve hurt if Seth thought we were together.”

Wayne nodded. “If Seth would threaten Steve over being your friend and tattoo artist, I shudder to think what he would have done if your relationship was more serious.”

“In fact I was going to tell him before Seth threatened him,” Eddie said with a sigh. “We had plans to have dinner at his place and I was going to tell him then.”

“But then Seth showed up?” Wayne asked.

Eddie nodded. “And then that night, I was going to at least let him know that after the whole thing with Seth got resolved, I was going to kiss the hell out him, but that didn’t work out either.”

Wayne tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“That was the night he ran into an ex,” Eddie explained. “The ex. The one that broke his heart. Found out a whole bunch of other shit that night, too. I spent most of the night trying to console him.”

“So the stars finally aligned today, then?” Wayne asked.

“About god damned time, too,” Eddie agreed fiercely.

Wayne hummed. “He’s good for ya, Ed. I don’t think I’ve seen you this happy in a long time. Even when Seth was breathing down your neck, you were more solid. You had your friends, but with Steve standing beside you, you looked like you could handle whatever the world threw at you as long as you had him.”

Eddie blushed, annoyed that driving kept him from ducking his head or shoving hair in his mouth to cover the flush on his cheeks. “He makes me feel brave, because he’s been through shit too and he’s still standing. Still moving forward each day. I love that about him.”

“Good.”

They drove the rest of the trip in silence. When they got back to the apartment they chatted as Eddie helped Wayne pack for his journey back to Hawkins.

“I want to see you both come Labor Day,” Wayne growled. “No excuses, you hear?”

Eddie nodded. “Yes, sir.” He gave him a jaunty salute.

It looked absolutely ridiculous coming from a long haired metalhead and Wayne’s snort cinched it.

Eddie grinned but gave him a gentle shove. “Steve wasn’t lying when he said that was the plan, by the way. We had been talking about taking him down to meet you since the first week of us becoming friends.”

Wayne nodded sagely. “I understand that he’s not close with his parents.”

“It was big ole mess,” Eddie said softly. “His parents are very recently divorced, like it was finalized last month, recent.”

Wayne hummed. “I remember you saying something about that,” he said. “At least you had an uncle who cared when your parents decided to be shit, it doesn’t seem like Steve had that option.”

“He was close to his grandpa though,” Eddie murmured. “On his mom’s side. He was really broken up when the man died.”

Wayne zipped up his suitcase. “How old was Steve?”

Eddie shrugged. “Young. Eight or nine. His grandfather got cancer before his mom met his dad. His grandpa had struggled with the disease before it finally took him. Steve said that it had ravaged so much of his body that his death certificate was like a laundry list of possible causes of death. Heart failure, kidney failure, cancer...you name it, it was probably on the damn thing.”

“That ring he wears all the time,” Wayne asked, “that his grandfather’s?”

Eddie nodded. “His dad tried to take it for years, saying it inappropriate to leave to a little boy.”

“Only he wasn’t going to stay a little boy forever,” Wayne said. “I guessing that since he still has it, his mom interfered?”

“Maureen Harrington wasn’t going to be winning any best mom awards at any point in Steve’s life,” Eddie scoffed, “but she did do some shit and hiding that ring was one of them.”

“I’m glad he had someone looking out for him,” Wayne said. “I’m sorry it wasn’t all the time. But he at least had something some of the time.”

“He’s not jealous of me or Robin,” Eddie said, “Or anyone of his friends that have a good home life. He’s happy with his found family. He loves them as though they are blood.”

Wayne smiled. “I’m happy for you, Ed. You’ve got something real special with Steve.”

Eddie blushed. “I love him.”

“I think the whole world knows it’s mutual at this point,” Wayne said with a small shake of his head.

Eddie just grinned.

*

Steve grinned as Chrissy wandered out of her room for the third time today. The first time was that she forgot her purse in her car. The second time it was because she had a question for Robin (completely made up and not something that was essential at all to her job). The third time it was because she wanted to ask Robin if she wanted anything from the deli on the corner for lunch.

Could you tell that Vickie was being trained by Robin today?

Vickie put her hand on Robin’s arm to get her to slow down in her nervous and very rapid fire explanation of the phone system and Steve thought Chrissy was going to explode.

Chrissy was wearing a pink blouse with spaghetti straps and white lacy cardigan over the tightest jeans Steve had ever seen and he’s been to a lot of Corroded Coffin shows. Her hair was up in an artfully messy ponytail and her makeup was tasteful and very pink.

Steve was just grateful she hadn’t paired the outfit with anything high heeled and instead chose white ballet flats. He was always worried someone was going to sprain their ankles in high heels walking on their hardwood floors.

He winced as Chrissy’s poor attempt at flirting fell flat.

“Oh,” Robin said, “Steve already ordered him and me Chinese, sorry.”

“I’d love something though,” Vickie said brightly. “Do they have a turkey club?”

Chrissy sputtered for a moment before she nodded meekly. “Yeah.”

“Great!” Vickie continued. “Just let me know how much and I’ll wire you the funds.”

Chrissy nodded again and with a squeak, dashed back into her room. Steve watched as Vickie’s smile turned knowing.

He shook his head and went to go talk to his apprentice.

“Someone’s got a crush,” he said, leaning against the door frame, with his arms folded.

Chrissy threw her arms in the air. “At least you noticed. I don’t think she has.”

Steve chuckled and made his way over to her, swinging the door shut behind him.

“I love her,” he said sitting down on her client lounger, “but she absolutely loses her head when a pretty girl is around. Gay, straight, bi. Doesn’t matter she becomes an absolute mess.”

“I’ve noticed,” Chrissy said bitterly. She thought about Vickie and Mandy and how Robin was just goo around them.

He hummed, knowing exactly what she was thinking. “Here’s the thing though, you are one hundred percent ahead of the game compared to the other two girls.”

Chrissy scoffed. “What makes you think that?”

Steve grinned. “Mandy has a boyfriend, soon to be fiance and Vickie could be bisexual. But she could also be straight. Robin knows you’re a lesbian. You have the advantage of her knowing where she stands with you.”

Chrissy blinked. “Oh.”

“You want to get the girl?” Steve asked. She nodded. “Then you’ve got to step up your game. Time to woo her and not just flirt with her.”

Chrissy chewed on her lip. “But how do I do that?”

Steve shook his head. “Well for starters, paying attention. Robin and I always get Chinese on Fridays.”

She blinked for a moment, pulled out her phone and then the light bulb went off above her head. “Oops.”

“Yeah...”

She took a deep breath. “Do you think I have a chance?”

“She thinks the cheerleading thing is scary hot, so...”

Chrissy grinned. “It’s short skirt, isn’t it?”

Steve shrugged. “And the cute little socks.”

Chrissy laughed. “Can’t forget those.”

He turned to walk away, but she stopped him. “Thanks for this, Steve. I know you didn’t have to.”

Steve just smiled softly and then walked out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Thoughts on how to get the girl of her dreams.

***

Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​ @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella

[blue--ingenue]

"Evasive Maneuvers" - Part 4

Read the next part

Summary: You've been in love with Sebastian since the moment you knocked him on his arse on your first day. Entering your sixth year, you finally begin working up the courage to confess your feelings when he suddenly becomes the best Beater Hogwarts has seen in decades - and subsequently becomes the school's most eligible bachelor.

Author's Notes: sorry for the little cliffhanger/teaser a few days ago hehe. i've been really excited to post this chapter and wanted to give you a sneak peek. anyway, seb is a mess, but i promise he gets better at expressing his feelings :) (i forgot to mention in previous parts, but all characters in this fic are aged 18+)

Sebastian cursed as his shoe caught on a loose floor tile, nearly stumbling down the short flight of steps leading to the Potions classroom. He’d woken up on the wrong side of the bed and everything else had gone downhill from there. He’d arrived at morning quidditch practice to an onslaught of rain. Despite the wind and near-torrential downpour, Imelda had insisted they run drills until their allotted hour on the pitch was up. It was their final practice before their match against Gryffindor. Not only was it one of the most anticipated matches of the season, but Madam Kogawa had also chosen this particular match to evaluate the two houses’ players for a chance to represent the school at the Championships. Sebastian barely had time to cast a half-arsed drying charm over his robes before realizing Potions had started ten minutes ago. Now he was barreling through the halls, irritated and hoping that his tardiness wouldn’t affect his partner’s grade as well as his own.

Remembering that his best friend stood just beyond the door in front of him, he paused to run a hand through his unruly curls and adjust his tie. He hadn’t abandoned all decorum in his tardiness, thank you very much. For some reason she was the only one he cared to check his appearance for. The whole world could think him a rumpled, muddy mess, but as long as he maintained his dashing charm in front of her, he was content. This was, of course, all due to the fact that she was his best chum. That was the only reason he could think of. She was a fixture in his life, occupying more space in his heart and his head than he had the words to describe. So it naturally followed that her opinion would matter above the rest. It had been like this for as long as he could remember. Just last week he’d spent the galleons he’d been saving for some new quidditch gloves on a lovely necklace for her. He told her he’d come across it just as he was leaving Honeydukes. In truth, he’d spotted it at Gladrags a week before the start of term and knew it would look perfect on her. He’d only visited the sweetshop after he had acquired the necklace. He decided to downplay his enthusiasm for her gift, just in case she got the wrong idea. 

Sebastian was no fool to the nuances of courtship. Ominis had approached him over the summer to ask him for his blessing about courting Anne. Solomon, who had always had a soft spot for the Gaunt boy, and encouraged his endeavor with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Both boys knew that Anne was her own woman and that asking for his blessing was a mere formality, but Ominis insisted on speaking to both of her remaining family members just in case. He knew what it was like to lose family and he didn’t want to risk causing a rift between any of the Sallows. 

Sebastian’s feelings toward his Gryffindor weren’t similar in the least. He’d seen witches and wizards fawning over one another as they walked arm-in-arm at Hogsmeade. He knew how ridiculous his classmates would act when the object of their affections glanced their way. Sebastian Sallow had never acted that way with her a day in his life. Sure, her presence left him invariably flustered, but that was simply because they were the closest of friends. He didn’t know how to put a name to the feelings she roused within him, but calling it something as trivial as “infatuation” seemed nothing less than insulting. No, she was far too extraordinary for that.

He was looking forward to putting this mess of a morning behind him. Spending time with her never failed to lift his spirits - which is why it hurt twice as hard when he stepped into the classroom and saw a familiar ginger nuisance standing in his spot. He was rooted to the spot, incredulous and fuming. He’d never taken issue with Weasley in any year previous, but since the start of term he seemed to be in the one place that was rightfully Sebastian’s - by his Gryffindor’s side. 

“Ah, Mr. Sallow. Good of you to finally join us,” Professor Sharp drawled from the front of the classroom. “If you’d like to avoid losing Slytherin any house points for today I’d recommend finding a seat. There seems to be an open stool next to Mr. Clopton.”

Begrudgingly Sebastian stalked over to Everett’s workbench and dropped his books onto the table with far more force than necessary. From across the room his Gryffindor shot him a sympathetic smile. It was like the first rays of sun had disintegrated the clouds from this morning’s offending storm. Looking around, she hastily scribbled a note onto a spare bit of parchment before waving her wand over it. With a soft pop the note appeared next to him. He smiled and snatched it from the table, unfurling it with speed. 

Sorry, Garreth volunteered to take your place when Sharp noticed you hadn’t yet arrived. Catch you after class?

He let the note fall to the table and plastered on a nonchalant smile. She seemed relieved, and for some reason that only seemed to irritate him further. Did being his partner mean so little to her that she was already content to continue on? To add insult to injury he was now forced to spend the next hour with Clopton. He was an alright bloke, but his obsession with quidditch meant that he was one of Sebastian’s biggest fans. He felt flattered, truly, but Everett’s presence began grating on his nerves once he started butting into the rare free time he spent with his Gryffindor. Seeking out a distraction from the hornet’s nest of feelings trapped within his head he turned to Everett to ask how far along they were in the potion recipe.

The Ravenclaw stood stock-still, as though he couldn’t believe Sebastian was actually talking to him after nearly a month of dismissed conversations. 

“Everett?” he prompted, exhaustion leeching the annoyance from his tone. He seemed to come to his senses at last and fumbled for the open potion book propped up against their cauldron. 

“Just here,” he replied, pointing to the second step. “I’ve already gathered the necessary ingredients, so we can just carry on with the chopping.” Sebastian thought he sounded far too enthusiastic for their first class of the day, but obliged. He’d just finished crushing the last bit of moonstone when Everett piped up. Unsurprisingly, and much to his dismay, he began prodding Sebastian about his broom skills. Sebastian gave a few obliging nods as he tuned out the boy’s rambling, intent on finishing their brew as quickly as he could. 

“The maneuvers you pull during practice are incredible! And on a school-issued broom, no less!” He carried on. Haughtily he added, “Of course, my broom is one of the fastest on the market. Begged my parents for one of those models for a year. A newer model was close to being released by the time they finally caved.”

Sebastian gave a noncommittal hum and focussed on listening in on the couple occupying his usual station. His hand stilled over the cutting board. Couple? He wondered. When had that word popped into his head? She and Weasley were hardly a couple. She was his best friend, and he was sure that he’d be the first one to know if she were even remotely interested in courting someone. To prove it, he looked up from his slicing to affirm their mutual distaste.

Only it didn’t look like distaste at all. She stood as she always did, elbows on the stained wood as she ran down the ingredient list with the tip of her wand. Weasley towered over her, reading over her shoulder with one arm supporting his weight atop the table. His attention caught on the boy’s face. He was smiling. It was soft and fond and trained entirely on her. Sebastian seethed. He didn’t know why this small act of affection lit a fire in his veins, but it just felt innately wrong, like stretching a muscle just a tad further than it was meant to bend. She was none the wiser as his larger hand brushed against hers in his attempt to turn the page. She turned her head then, realizing for the first time how close they were and blushed. This was ludicrous. Any closer and he’d practically have her pressed against the table. And what if he leaned down? What if he held her impossibly closer and pressed his lips against hers? Would she kiss him back? Sebastian wondered if she’d tug on his tie, pull him down and tangle a fist in his curls. 

This was ridiculous. Unbelievable. The whole bloody world was spinning off its axis and Sebastian was the only one who seemed to notice. If anyone should be kissing her, it should be him. He was supposed to be the only one to- 

Oh. 

Oh, dear. 

The world was no longer spinning off its axis. In fact, it wasn’t spinning at all. Everything and everyone was frozen and Sebastian was left to feel all these feelings in painful crystal clarity. He’d read about romance in the muggle novellas Anne had teased him for buying, but on paper everything was straightforward. The hero knew he loved the girl, and the girl loved him right back. In all the books he’d read the couples were inseparable. There was never a question of whether they loved each other, not one true doubt to be found. From Prologue to Epilogue he felt safe knowing that the couple would ultimately get their ‘happily ever after.’ Things were different once the books were back on their shelves. Happy endings were rare, if they even existed at all. His parents were kindred spirits, their love for one another so powerful that it flowed into every nook and cranny of their home. His mother used to tuck them in and say that she loved their father so much, the world decided they needed two children to carry it all. Those happy honeyed years were tucked safely away in his mind, where the memories of his parents’ demise and the rest of reality couldn’t touch them. 

Love was soft and sweet, and the world was a sharp and insatiable thing. The years following their move to Feldcroft were a special type of purgatory. The memories of his beloved childhood swirled cruelly in his mind’s eye each night, just vivid enough to remember yet just out of reach. A shard of fear pierced his chest. He couldn’t bear to lose her like that. He didn’t think he could stand getting so close to another person only to have them inevitably ripped away. Sebastian Sallow yearned for fairy tale endings, but he didn’t know if he believed in them anymore. 

A high-pitched hissing tore his focus away from his epiphany and the world spun on as if he hadn’t just realized something beautiful and horrible and terrifying. It intensified and he realized the noise was coming from Weasley’s cauldron. He could only watch on as it erupted, sending metal shards and acidic splatters every which way. Garreth tackled his Gryffindor to the floor, shielding her with his own body while the failed potion smoked and ate through his robes. She frantically tore the tattered robe from his body before it could make contact with the rest of him and the two froze. Although he couldn’t hear them over the chaos the rest of the room had erupted into, he knew she was asking if he was alright. He nodded and Sebastian saw red as he brushed her hair back to look at a nasty cut on her forehead. Garreth’s discarded robe smoked behind him, his shirt torn in a few places, and gently held her face in his hands as he checked for more cuts. He only barely registered Sharp dismissing the class for the day before he was grabbing his things and slipping out of the classroom.

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Taglist: @snickette, @findingtruenorth23, @plooloo, @paganicher, @smilesworldsposts, @snoozebun, @crazyllamasurfer, @pixie-dustss, @margottheviking, @lollife1617, @tired-meg, @somethingiswrongwithme

[lightofraye]

Jensen's Roles (past and upcoming)

This one is gonna be a long one! Bear with me folks. (Not his full list of work, by the way.)

1. Eric Brady. Sami Brady's long-lost twin! I remember getting into an argument with my older brother about Eric Brady. My brother insisted Sami never had a twin, and I kept saying "Well! He's her twin!" Turned out Days of Our Lives forgot Sami had a twin! (Days of Our Lives)

2. Alec McDowell (and Ben McDowell). A genetic creation of Manticore, Jensen played two roles--first of a psychotic creation, Ben. He did such a good role as Ben they brought him back as the twin, Alec, named as such because he was sarcastic and, according to Max, a "smart alec". (Dark Angel)

3. CJ Braxton. CJ's had an interesting storyline. He was a depressed teen who turned to alcohol to cope. Nearly destroying a number of his relationships (friends and love interests, both), CJ decided to abstain from drinking. He also joined a teen helpline called The Stand. There had always been speculation that he was the father of Jen's child, though it was never revealed. (Dawson's Creek)

4. Jason Teague. Jason was probably a weak storyline, to be honest. He had potential, but the writers really didn't make it work. He was in a relationship with Lana, but only using her to get closer to the other characters for some stones of power. His character was unceremoniously killed off at the end by a meteor shower. (Smallville)

5. Dean Winchester. The most famous role of all: the elder Winchester brother. Protector, stand-in parent, hunter, brother, friend. Dean would move the world to protect his brother, Sam. There was nothing he wouldn't do for him. Dean had made bargains to save his brother, sold his soul, endured lifetimes. As long as he had Sam, Dean would be okay. The show began with the brothers and ended with them. (Supernatural)

6. Soldier Boy. The "first" Supe. (In the world of The Boys, they don't say "Superhero", largely because, guess what? It's trademarked, so a lot of other comics and such have to dance around the term.) Anyway. Soldier Boy was the first. He did it in hopes of finally impressing his father, but his father claimed he "cheated". Honestly, Soldier Boy's father sounds like an abusive douche. Ben--Soldier Boy--was also an abusive douche, continuing the family 'tradition'. Was very cruel and abrasive to his team, Payback, so much so that Vought decided they had enough and plotted to get rid of him by selling him out to Russia. It worked. Russia held him captive, tortured him for decades, until The Boys freed him in exchange for killing Homelander--who is also his son. It's a messed up family, y'all. Jensen will be returning for Season 5! (The Boys)

7. Beau Arlen. Beau Arlen was a mystery, for the large part. The show teased at something huge that led to Beau getting divorced from Carla, that led to him "retiring" as a sheriff for a time, before he was convinced to come back as a sheriff, which led to the start of Season 3. There was a small teaser in the show that indicated a partner of his was killed and he shut down, emotionally, and Carla couldn't handle it anymore. He dearly loves his daughter, Emily, and was ready to move heaven and earth to save her. (Big Sky)

8. Russell Shaw. What's a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a secret? You'd get Russell Shaw, that's who. What we do know: he stood up a lot to his father, who was a paranoid survivalist, protecting his siblings, at least for a time. Then their father was killed and Russell ran, afraid he would be (rightly) blamed for it. For some 20 years, Russell was in the military (approximately 18 years) before retiring to be a secret Black Ops agent of sorts for a group known as Horizon. He kept in touch with their sister Dory, but Colter kept avoiding Russell, up until Russell tracked him down and asked for help. There's a lot of hints that there's a lot more going on that Colter is unaware of--like how it was their mother who urged Russell to run instead of facing his siblings about their father's death, how Dory kept a box of stuff about their father, and so forth. Jensen will return for more episodes. (Tracker)

UPCOMING

9. Mark Meachum. Very little is known about this show or character. What has been said so far: LAPD officer Mark Meachum being recruited to join a secret task force of undercover agents from all branches of law enforcement to investigate. Among this secret task force is Nathan Blythe, Special Agent in Charge who’s been with the Bureau for 22 years. Then there's Special Agent Amber Oliveras, who is a DEA agent. Several others from different task forces will be joining Meachum in uncovering the conspiracy and saving the city. (Countdown)

10. Soldier Boy (again). This time for the prequel, Vought Rising. Kripke described it as: It’s a twisted murder mystery about the origins of Vought in the 1950s, the early exploits of Soldier Boy, and the diabolical maneuvers of a supe known to fans as Stormfront, who was then going by the name Clara Vought. (Vought Rising)

--

Phew! These are the notables. Of course, he's done voicework as both Red Hood and Batman in a number of animated films. He's done guest roles in the Buddy movies. Devour. My Bloody Valentine. And others.

[mayiwritesomething]

Love Is An Unfamiliar Name (pt. 2)

Snacks

Wordcount: 1,9 k

Warnings: none

A/N: hope you enjoy as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

PART ONE

—————

Few months had passed since THAT NIGHT, you had finished two short movie scores. Like many composers, you occasionally played with a band, starting out as a sound engineer intern during your music bachelor's degree. It was during this time that you met the group who would later invite you to become their bass player for live shows. Almost fifteen years down the line, there you were, laying down bass lines for their next album.

As the session ended, you reached for your water bottle when your bandmate, Tim, called out to you. "Hey there, kiddo. I know you're taking some time off soon. Can I count on you for the upcoming tour? I'm planning just a few shows so I can spend more time with the kids," he mentioned while packing his gear. 

"Timmy, you know I'll be there! By June, I should have everything wrapped up so we can start post-production," you assured him. Tim happened to be Amy's husband, whom you introduced, and they had been together for nearly a decade.

"When are you leaving?" he inquired.

"Next Monday, I'm off to Alberta, then back to LA for a few days, off to Paris, then back to Canada, and on and on," you explained.

"The way you put it, it sounds like just a month or two," Johnny chimed in.

"Come on! I don't know why you're talking like that. Most of your work will be in post-production," you retorted, playfully pushing him. Johnny, a master in sound effects, was also part of your team, along with Tim, who excelled in translating emotions into music. Tim, however, would be less involved this time due to his newborn daughter. While he would assist on set some days, you had planned most of his work for the final score during post-production.

"I'll admit, I'm just as nervous as you are," Johnny confessed. "Things are getting real now."

"It sure is, and you're both in this with me. If you mess up, I'll fire you with no mercy," you teased, laughing.

 

"Remember when we met this girl man, she was 20-something, sitting shy behind a board working on synthesizers? Years later, she's our boss in the cinematographic world." Tim beamed proudly, resembling an older brother.

"Well, you know I'm here because you never let me fall," you expressed gratefully, recalling how they had always supported you as if you were their little sister, even during your toughest times.

"Oh, I forgot how cute and loving you can be sometimes." Johnny embraced you, joined by Jim and Lucas, the drummer who had just entered the room, unaware of the conversation.

"What would I do without you guys?" You chuckled, feeling a sense of belonging, and these guys made it feel like home.

 

—-

 

On Sunday, you began packing your luggage, gathering everything you needed to feel comfortable in the hotel that would serve as your Canadian residence for the coming months.

 

Monday morning, you double-checked everything once again before meeting Jenny at the airport around 2:00 PM to catch your flight, realizing the scale of the project as the entire crew was set to travel on a private flight.

Spotting Jenny amidst a small group at the airport, you recognized familiar faces from the sound department. While conversing with your new colleagues and waiting to check in, you headed to the self-service area for snacks when a familiar voice caught your attention from behind.

"Just make sure not to take the Reese's, Mrs. Coordinator," the voice teased.

"I'm more of an M&M's kind of girl," you retorted playfully. "You can have it all; it’s not like I care... - Pedro," you replied, turning to face him.

"Wow, you can be quite rude sometimes. Has anyone ever told you that?" Pedro seemed taken aback.

"That's just my way of showing affection," you quipped, attempting to break the ice, the joke clear in your mind.

"Like a hedgehog, huh? Got it, Sonic," Pedro replied, retrieving his items. The mention of Sonic brought a smile to your face.

"Sonic?" you questioned.

"Yeah, the hedgehog, Mrs. Coordinator," he continued teasing.

"Please, stop calling me that," you insisted.

"Sonic?" Pedro teased again.

"You're incredibly annoying, has anyone ever told you that?" You fired back.

"A few times, but at least I don’t jump to conclusions about someone else's personality," Pedro responded, a hint of a smile appearing as he took a sip of water.

"What's the matter, dude?" Your feisty side emerged. "I already apologized for that, and now you're going to keep bringing this up every chance you get?" He was right; you can be very rude. "I mean... I'm not... I... 

"Nothing's wrong." Pedro's smile faded. "I thought you'd be okay with a joke about a stupid situation, one that, let's be clear, you created. Yes, I brought it up as a joke for the first and last time… ‘cause it seems we have different senses of humor," he continued earnestly. You found yourself agreeing with him, but you were too proud to give up.

"Alright, maybe we do have different humors. And you were the one who called me rude in the first place." You knew this time you sounded like a neglected child.

"Did I lie?"

"No," you conceded, trying not to sound stubborn. "But since we're going to be working together, perhaps we should try to understand each other better. I was joking about the Reese's incident, you know." You sounded just like your therapist now. “…And”

 

"FINALLY, THERE YOU ARE! May and I have been wandering around like two old ladies looking for their cats," Jenny chimed in, appearing out of nowhere like an angel to save you from yourself.

"Hey Jennifer, how's it going?" Pedro greeted her with a hug that got you thinking. You don’t hug Jenny quite as often as you should. "We were just discussing how we're going to make things work."

"Sure, we were," you muttered, a hint of annoyance in your voice.

"Ah, I see you've already experienced this girl's unique sense of humor," Jenny remarked, trying to lighten the mood. Though her comment irritated you, you knew she meant well.

"Unfortunately, he has, Jen," you replied, attempting to sound nice.

"Jenny, have you ever heard the phrase 'all bark, no bite'? It seems like your friend here fits that bill," Pedro observed with a cynical smile, not in a malicious way but more like a curious mind pondering your next move. Was he provoking you? You got confused...

"I can bite, but only if you ask nicely," you retorted, catching him off guard. His cheeks flushed, Jenny chuckled, and she made her way to the self-service area.

"What happened, ‘Mr. I have an answer to everything’? Cat got your tongue?" You teased him, noting his silence as he processed your response. You started to feel a bit foolish.

"Talking to you is truly a rollercoaster," Pedro remarked, attempting to sound confident, though you noticed his hand twitching. "That's a compliment, Sonic. Before you decide to pounce on me," he added shyly and genuinely. What just happened? Why did you do this to someone who isn’t your usual type? Well, you might be a wooden heart, but certainly you’re not dead. 

"See you around then?" He regained his confidence. "All bark, no bite." 

You were on the verge of responding that you hoped not, but before you could, he approached you and gently patted your shoulder, his hand resting there for a moment. A surge of electricity shot through your body so swiftly that you felt like a supernova had just exploded within you. Startled, you stepped back, fear creeping in. What was happening?

"Hey?" He looked confused. "Are you okay?"

You nodded in affirmation, and he smiled, remarking, "Quick reflexes, huh?” 

This time, you were caught off guard. Physical touch was something you weren’t used to. Your body language resembled that of a feral cat—life had shaped you into this defensive creature. Earth Calling. 

"Haha," you attempted to maintain the cool facade you had two minutes ago, "Isn't speed one of Sonic's powers?"

"I guess it is.”

"Well, are we cool then?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

"Why wouldn't we be?" he responded. 

"Pedro, we just..."

"It's okay," he reassured, moving closer as you instinctively stepped back, clutching your pack of peanut butter M&M's like a protective talisman. "Hey, it's really okay. You've said what you needed to say, and I've done the same. We're cool." Sensing your anxiety, he urged, "Trust me."

"Okay, I think we should head back.” You said. “Jenny and May are probably feigning indecision over their purchases to make sure we don’t kill ourselves," you suggested, opening your M&M's pack. He observed your delicate movements, ensuring the package remained intact.

"I’m sure of that... Just like how Jenny watches out for you, May prevents me from fucking things up," Pedro remarked with a laugh.

"Two grown adults with their babysitters," you joked, glancing over his shoulder at Jenny and May. You signaled for them to join you and Pedro, as he turned and did the same. 

"Hey, Hi!" May approached you enthusiastically. "I couldn't believe it when Pedro said he'd be working with you! I don't want to sound like a fangirl, but I love your music work! The last score you created was fantastic, and your work with Mended Fragments... I can't wait to see you guys perform live again!"

"Oh, uh, thank you... May," you replied, extending your hand. "I'm truly grateful to hear that,” you said shyly. “I must admit, I still don’t how to act in these situations, but I genuinely appreciate it." Your skin flushed with warmth. “We will play some gigs next year, i can get you some cool spots if you want”

"Really???" She was trying to hide how starstruck she was.

"Wow, enjoy it, May.” Pedro said, “She wasn't this friendly to me when we first met, and I told her I was a fan of her work. The very same day she called me the 'Game of Thrones guy.'" In that final sentence, he glanced at you like a cat poised to knock a cup of water off a table. He was teasing you, and he wanted you to know that.

This time, you didn't take the bait. Instead, you quipped, "You were on a date, Pedro, and my morals weren't the best that night. I'd rather not risk it." You chuckled, while Jenny smirked by his side.

"Come on!" He said it, feigning disappointment. "I thought we were due for another discussion," he glanced at you, "boriiiing."

"Guys, let's go. We have a flight to catch," May interjected, sensing the tension. The four of you made your way to meet the rest of the crew. Taking a seat beside Jenny, you found yourself smiling, and Jenny looked surprised at you.

"It's been a while since I've seen this," she remarked, her expression bright.

"See what?"

"This very one smile," she said, flashing her teeth.

"I'm not—"

"I'm not smiling. I don't feel anything. I'm the ice queen," she cut in, teasingly imitating you. "Everyone, look at how mean and bad I am." She continued…

"I have no idea what you're talking about," you responded, laughing and looking at the surroundings to ensure no one was paying attention.

"If anything happens between you two, you owe me 1000 bucks."

"Make it 2000, because nothing's going to happen. Deal?"

"Deal. I'm thrilled at the thought of being $2000 richer without doing anything."

"Keep dreaming," you retorted, picking up a book to read and acknowledging silently that she kind of had a point.

Fool.

[dragons-clause]

The Dragon's Clause

Sabo x Fem Reader CW: Forced marriage, intrigue, character death, fantasy violence, blood, magic, language, smut, 18+ mdni

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff

Chapter 8: Enter the Dragon

Sabo sat in the tent at the northern border. Things were mostly packed and he was finally ready to return back to his estate for a time. The expedition had been a success despite the suddenness of it and the lack of bodies, though it had required a lot more focus and work from him than was usual.

Koala wouldn’t have let him take half the risks he had if she’d been able to stay. He had to send her back though, once word had come through about their new guest. It wouldn’t be fair to leave Hack to face the brunt of whatever entitled bratty aristocratic spy his father sought to hoist upon him again. Though perhaps calling them spies was a bit of a stretch. While all had loyalty to his father, none had been particularly skilled in extracting information from anyone.

Not that it was an easy feat in the first place. Half of the staff at the Estate was directly linked to Sabo in terms of business, personal, and secret matters. None of them would betray him even if the wealth offered was substantial. Other employees were often residents of Aquilegia, and were paid handsomely.

Pay aside, Sabo’s work in the last decade for the village had certainly risen him to almost uncomfortable heights with the residents. His father had effectively banished him to the remote area when he was fifteen, and it had taken an immense effort to make the strides he had.

It all worked out in the end. He’d connected with The Network a few years before he’d been sent to Aquilegia, and the town’s distance from the capital gave him a lot more freedom than he was sure his father had intended. The border expeditions weren’t even that bad, aside from requiring as much of his attention as they did, but even these events gave him opportunity to take care of other aspects of his business.

He finally had some time to read the reports Koala had been sending. None of them had been marked priority so he hadn’t bothered reading them until now. Nothing had been tied in black either, so Koala hadn’t been on the verge of murdering anyone.

His fingers wrap around the handle of a cup of coffee forgotten from the night before, since he was due to leave soon he hadn’t bothered to brew a morning pot. Grimacing at the bitter, and cold, coffee he begins to read the reports. Confusion furrows his brow for a second, but more than that there’s a grin.

I’m sure you’re ignoring most of these, but that’s alright.

Lady Lulusia has been nothing but good. She requests no more than what she needs, and I even caught her cleaning her room this morning! She practically apologized for waking up early and had explained that tidying in the morning was such a habit she hadn’t even realized she was doing it. I would’ve taken it for hogwash honestly, but she’s been voluntarily taking walks with Hack and asking him questions about the estate.

Things like who built it, and what kind of stones were used. He’s smitten. Completely smitten. You’re not going to marry this lady because Hack will elope with her.

Sabo nearly snorts, taking another sip of coffee and making a face. He’d forgotten the damn cup was cold he was so focused on Koala’s report. Sliding the cup further away he picks up another random letter and reads it.

Good news, I think.

She hasn’t tried to bribe anyone yet. This is the second day and all she’s done is ask everyone their names, and I mean everyone. I think the stable boy was about to wet himself honestly. If this is some kind of power play or intimidation tactic, I have no idea how it’s meant to work. She hasn’t caused any issues or delays with anyone’s work.

Oh, and I forgot to mention this in the first letter, but she only had three trunks. Inazuma said he had to have almost all her dresses repaired. I can’t say if the King’s using her, or if it’s him, but I’d lay money that your mother loathes her.

“Huh.” He reaches for the cup until remembering the contents were cold. Pulling off his glove he sighs against his finger, igniting it, and drawing a line of flame around the rim of the cup. Putting his glove back on he shuffles through the reports and puts them in order, giving the spell a moment to warm up the coffee before taking a careful sip.

Having the reports in order the most immediate thing he noticed was how Koala’s tone changed. Deeply suspicious in the first letter, she was convinced that the lady was playing at being a pauper. The second day he’d already read so he moved past that. The third day she thought Hack had accosted her and was forcing her to take a walk through the estate, much as he could force any noble to do anything.

The fourth day caught his attention.

I can’t [something is written here, but it’s been effectively crossed out].

I’m not sure the King actually sent a noble this time. She’s going to turn out to be an assassin or something. Her manners are solid, and she’s got the capacity to speak that way that you hate, but she doesn’t seem to really care. She’s not an animal or anything, but this morning-

No, never mind. You’ll see when you get back, but don’t worry, we’re okay. I’ll keep sending letters, but I don’t think you have anything to be concerned about.

Sabo taps the report on the desk, finger against his lip in thought. Koala would only omit information for a small number of reasons. The reports being intercepted was always a risk, but not really a concern. Another possibility was that whatever assumptions or hypotheses she had, she wasn’t ready to share them.

The letter itself was a mess. The scratched out part, the interrupted flow of her thoughts. Setting his concerns aside he picked up the report after it. It was the one where she was joking about Hack eloping with Lady Lulusia.

He grunts, a smile on his face. Whether it’s what his father truly wants or not, this uninvited guest might just be the one that stays. Unfolding the next report he laughs, putting a hand over his mouth and nearly shaking trying not to just howl.

It’s a very short letter, and it appears to be the last one. Koala hadn’t even bothered to send a report the last two days.

If you don’t, I will. Not even Hack could stop me.

Sabo murmurs a few words quietly, and the reports flutter into the air, catching fire and swirling away in a small twist of ash and dust. A severe looking man steps into his tent once the reports are gone. Karasu is a tall man with no love of the cold. He’s wearing a large feathery fur coat with a hood, and a scarf that covers a good bit of his face.

He doesn’t even bother to remove any of the articles when he regards Sabo. It’s just as damnably cold in the tent as not as far as he’s concerned.

“Nothing more for the archives then?” He prompts and Sabo shakes his head.

“Koala had no concerns of note, certainly nothing that required preservation." He answers. “Father has seen fit to push a different kind of noble into my home it seems.”

“Will I not be needed then?”

Sabo’s silent for a moment, and then shakes his head. “No, I still want you to do as you had been. You’re the best suited for it, but I would start off easy. I want to see how this plays out.”

“Oh? Your curiosity is actually piqued?”

Sabo shrugs, giving Karasu a devious grin and nothing more as the two exit the tent. There’s no nearby Teleportation Station, for safety reasons there aren’t any within twenty miles of the northern borders. Beasts can activate the circles just as easily as humans, even if it could be purely by accident.

Both Sabo and Karasu, however, can cover the distance from the main estate to the border in short order. What would be a day of hard riding, or almost three days by carriage, is, for the two of them, just a couple of hours. Sabo’s way of doing so, however, is reserved for emergencies only, since it can easily cause a massive forest fire.

So the two return to the estate, with Sabo riding Karasu’s raven form. The ride would be cold for Sabo, but his specialization kept him warm even in the most frigid of climes. Karasu was a specialist as well, and paired well with Sabo, since his power was over soot and cinders - even to the point that he could himself become that very substance.

When the two land at the Estate’s main gate, Koala is already coming out to greet them.

“What perfect timing!” She calls out, waving them to hurry along. She pulls out a feather duster, drawing lines against the feathers with her fingers until she smacks it into Sabo and knocks all the dust and soot off him. “No time to freshen up properly, you need to come see this.”

Koala holds the duster up to Karasu and he puts his hands up and shakes his head. Tucking the duster away she begins leading Sabo.

“Did something go wrong in the last two days?” Sabo questions, following along at Koala’s hurried pace.

“Well, yes and no.” She gives him a sheepish look. “It’s really best for you to see this, instead of me trying to explain it.”

“Some context, Koala, would be helpful.” He grumbles.

“The Lady Lulusia has taken to practicing her sword forms in the morning before breakfast.” She begins.

“Her -.” He starts, nearly tripping over his own two feet, but Koala cuts him off.

“And a couple days ago one of the estate guards requested to spar with her.”

Sabo remains quiet, he’s still trying to process that a royal from Lulusia is practicing their swordsmanship in his backyard. All manner of possibilities run through his mind. She’s skilled and holding her own, she’s not skilled and berating his guards for it, she’s an utter disaster and isn’t skilled enough to know it, or she’s moments away from beheading someone for their insolence.

“Context was, perhaps, not needed.” He admits, as Koala guides him onto the viewing deck of the training grounds.

The Lady Lulusia, or so he assumed because he didn’t recognize the young woman in training garb with her hair braided and coiled neatly against the back of her head, was currently instructing his guards if he was seeing things properly. The guards appeared to have volunteered for the instruction, given the way they were paying attention to it.

“Koala?”

“Mm, yes?”

“Why are my guards taking instruction from our guest?”

“… The Lady had requested I not speak on that, your grace.” She answers. The tone in her voice is business, but her smile is wide and full of delight.

“Gone for a week and my authority is already in question.” Crossing his arms he gives her a stern look.

“Alas, it is a manner of honor, I gave my word, your grace.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighs. “I’m going to have some breakfast,” he nearly groans the words, walking back into the estate with Koala close behind. “After Lady Lulusia is done and has had time to clean up and eat, I would like you to bring her to my office.”

“Perhaps… the tea room?”

Sabo flinches, his shoulders dropping as he looks up to the ceiling for a moment. It was certainly more polite that way, and he did tell Karasu he was going to come at this situation a little more gently.

“The tea room, then. I’ll be in my office in the meantime.” He corrects, walking away.

Even as he walked away, he let his mind wander back to the training grounds. Her ease around the guards, and the gear, was evident. He couldn’t see her face from where he and Koala had been, but appearances were the least of his concern.

He was, after all, the Scarred Beast of the North, who was he to judge?

[yoinkschief]

You have no idea how long this has needed to be done, he's been brewing in my head with no ability to do anything about it

Anyway time to explain some shit

The boy on the left is regular Tom and the one on the right is him halfway transformed Teefers too big for him mouth and I'm just now realizing I forgot to draw Tom's snake bites and other earrings fuck me oml Oh and he gets fuzzier cause in order to transform to and fro his demon form his body speeds up the growth process to help with the pain (something that developed, it was not instantaneously there and it's not perfect, the process is still INCREDIBLY painful he does not enjoy it)

Anyway, I wanted to say that usually a demon's horns (in my headcanon anyway) usually represent age, but there are certain sins that don't follow this rule such as Wrath and Lust, instead their horns represent power and status more than anything (the larger the horns, the more powerful you're considered and better treated you are in society) but even then not every demon will have horns, like Envy or Sloth

To explain my demon hierarchy and world building would take several posts and multiple AO3 books for everyone to properly understand it the way I see it but just know that there are 7 sins, the seven deadly sins, that each demon falls under (more or less, anyway), there are the original sins, the children they created asexually like starfish do and then their children mingling together and creating different races of demons and complex hybrids,,, pretty much every demon you see will be a mutt save for very high class demons (such as the OG sins and the demons that have the most "pure" blood of their predecessors)

Tom's demon, is really fucking weird in that regard because yes, his Demon is a full Rage Demon or in other words, a perfect demon of Wrath but it's like... Artificially made. And no one knows how

wink

But yeah it's super freaky and he's like one of the few things that could give demons themselves the sense of uncanny valley

Very hard to close mouth You know how snakes can open their jaws super wide to eat prey?... Yeah

Tom is based off of two things, besides demons n dragons ofc: Snakes and Spiders. I fucking hate spiders you have no idea how much looking this shit up sucked

Anyway his venom is stored in his teeth like how spiders are, but he's got a very snake-ish mouth. And can open his jaw super fucking wide like a snake or certain species of spiders can. To the best is a very simplified side profile example of that,,,, maybe I should make some body horror art of him with his fully extended jaw like some freak ass spider. That'd give me nightmares. Which I guess is the point.

I put too much time and effort into that mouth, please appreciate it

Also yeah closing his jaw is super hard cause of his lil snake-ish spider-ish teeth that protrude out of his mouth

Demons of Wrath tend to have bigger builds

BIG BOYYYY I LOVE HIM

This mother fucker is genuinely the reason it took me so long to create this damn sheet,, I could never figure how I wanted him to look, but in the end I stuck to something close to canon with my own stylized shit. Like his horns and jutting out teeth

Diving a bit deeper into my demon world building lore that's been brewing in my head for nearly a decade now (yikes that hurts to think about) demons have different builds, Pride and Lust tend to be very similar to society's standards of beauty (ever changing as humans adapt, so do demons... hmmm) versus Gluttony and Wrath tending to be more nightmarish and your run of the mil cryptid you'd see in the woods when you were fucking around where you shouldn't be

Symbol of Wrath

Every House or Sin has their own symbol, usually reserved for the original sins, but Tom is a special case because,,, reasons I'm not disclosing at the moment cause I think it's silly and shit or whatever I dunno I guess I'm embarrassed to explain it? For some reason? Anyway back to this

Nothing more to explain about it really, just that Tom has this marking on his monster form's chest and that's the black mark on the previous picture,,, except it's not actually fully black like that, it was just too tiny to get the details right so I decided to do the next best thing lol

It's a lion with horns that can be interpreted as Scorpion Tails, because the sin of Wrath is usually associated with Lions, Bears, Dragons and I think Scorpions fit, too, makes me think of the scorpion and the frog

Anyway that's my rant about headcanons I put too much thought, time and effort into that three people will read lol

[francesminos-tt]

Joffy is the captain of the football team and Daeron is a serious and renowned lawyer, they hate each other.

But somehow that doesn't stop them from having sex.

optional tags: odaxelagnia, rough sex, rimming.

My bad habit is trying to build up the world even though it’s just smut.

Today was the first day Joffrey went back to the football field. He had been wrongly suspended for the rest of the season by a complete misunderstanding, but he managed to appeal his case to the National Football Committee, getting back to the field after only three months. However, three months suspension was still a long time, especially for a rising star like Joffrey.

Joffrey Velaryon was Harrenhal FC’s youngest captain in the last three decades. This record was formerly held by his biological father, Harwin Strong, who made it to the captain at the age of 23. Joffrey was made captain at 22, just one year after he had made his professional debut. He was a talented forward player, quick, agile and very skillful at free kicks. He had scored a warping 20 goals in the last season, winning himself the newcomer of the year.

However, just when everyone expected Joffrey to lead Harrenhal to the realm’s cup, he was suspended for getting into a bar fight and injuring four people. The scandal was the biggest gossip on social media for months.

Golden Boy Proved To Be A Violent Hater!

Is Joffrey Velaryon Homophobic?

The LGBTQ+ Society Cancels Joff the Jork

The Westeros Football Committee and The Riverlands League says they will not tolerate violence and hate crime

Joffrey wanted to spit on those damn reporters’ faces, but he couldn't afford to cause any more troubles now. His mother had called the crisis management team, led by none other than the person he hated the most in this world. His serious, renowned, highly competent lawyer uncle Daeron, who Joffrey hated with passion.

“Fractured ribs, concussion, broken legs and snapped fingers,” Daeron read aloud the medical reports of those who were hospitalized by Joffrey, “very impressive, nephew. Are you sure you want to continue your football career? I think you will do better in wrestling, since you prefer to speak with your fists rather than with your mouth.”

See? He had to laugh at Joffrey any chance he got. Daeron had always been like this, looking down upon Joffrey just because Joff didn't go to university. Daeron always treated Joffrey as if he was some kind of savage. Joffrey hated the blonde man for it. He might depend on his physical strength to make a living, but it didn't mean he was an imbecile.

“If you are here to mock me, just fucking leave.” Joffrey rolled his eyes and tried to turn his head away, but the slightest movement sent a sharp pain down his neck. Fuck, he nearly forgot he had a concussion too.

“No, I am here to help you, dear Joff. Mocking is just for my own entertainment.” Daeron chuckled, sitting down at the edge of Joffrey’s hospital bed, “I need your full cooperation to appeal the case. How about you stop throwing me death glares?”

“What do you want?” Joffrey asked through gritted teeth.

“Firstly, I need a complete and honest statement.” Daeron replied, pulling out a recording pen from his pocket, “Why did you beat these people up?”

“They were assholes.” Joffrey said.

“I need more details than that.” Daeron continued, not at all annoyed, “I know you don't beat people up just because they are assholes.”

“Yeah? All the media seems to believe so.” Joffrey scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“No, you are not.” Daeron said so seriously that for a moment, Joffrey was actually moved by the blonde’s words. However, any good feeling Joffrey had for Daeron quickly disappeared when the blonde added, “If so, I would be beaten to death by you a long time ago.”

“Asshole.” Joffrey spat.

“Exactly.” Daeron had the audacity to smile, “You might have put wasabi in my birthday cake before, but you never beat me. So, tell me, Joffrey, what did these people say or do that made you so angry?”

Joffrey bit his lower lip and went silent. Firstly, he didn't want to tell Daeron why he had gone to a gay bar. Secondly, he was reluctant to admit that he had beaten those people up because they insulted Joffrey’s family and called him a pervert.

“I can’t help you if you don't talk, Joff.” Daeron said, but he seemed patient. He was always composed and calm, while Joffrey was often described as a hot-tempered jork.

“What difference will it make if I tell you? I am already suspended. The damage is done. I don't want to go through the humiliation again.” Joffrey said after a long pause.

“Your mother called me, Joffrey. She doesn't believe a single word on social media. She swore that her baby boy did it for a reason. She wants to appeal your case so bad that she’s willing to beg my mother to let me help you. Do you want her effort to be all for naught?” Daeron asked after switching off the recording pen, “So let me ask you again. What made you start a fight in a gay bar? I will switch on the recording again after you are ready.”

The last thing Joffrey wanted was to hurt his mother. Hell, he started the fight to defend her name. He considered for a moment before nodding, indicating Daeron to resume recording.

“Go ahead.”

“They insulted my mother and called her a hypocrite for marrying a gay man.” Joffrey said, his anger slowly building by just recalling the words, “They called me a pervert and…”

“And?”

Joffrey reached out to switch off the recording again.

“I don't deserve their cock.” Joffrey finished, casting his eyes down. He was sure Daeron could understand the hidden meaning in his words.

Joffrey didn’t go to a gay bar to pick up fights. He went to a gay bar like anyone else, to hang out and hopefully get laid. In the sports world, sexual orientation was still a ‘don’t say, don’t ask’ topic. Joffrey hadn’t get laid since he broke up with his boyfriend, and he was desperate. He didn't want to jerk off in his flat like a miserable 14-year-old anymore, so he went out to have some fun. He should have stayed inside. See what his horny got him.

“All right.” Daeron said, “I already have some idea about appealing your case. I need some time to work things out, and in the meantime, you stay put and do not get into trouble again.”

“How could I?” Joffrey snorted, “Look. I am confined to the hospital bed. I think a prisoner has more freedom than me.”

“Be good, Joffrey.” Daeron stood up and headed for the door, “Think about how you can thank me after I get you on the field again.”

“You are just going to help me like that?” Joffrey asked to Daeron’s back, “I thought you hated me.”

“Maybe.” Daeron half-turned and flashed Joffrey a smile, “But I want to see you owe me one so bad. I look forward to your thank-you gift, nephew.”

“Get out.” Joffrey managed between ragged breaths, “My ass is going to split.”

Daeron didn’t answer, for he was busy burying his teeth in Joffrey’s shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. Joffrey hissed as a sharp pain spread from where Daeron’s teeth embedded in his flesh. Joffrey didn’t know which hurt more, his shoulder, or his hole that was stretched to the limit by Daeron’s cock.

Joffrey had no idea how they ended up like this. Today’s game ended with a draw, and Joffrey managed to give two assists, one of them resulting in a goal, which was not a bad performance for someone who hadn’t played for month. The team’s manager drove him home personally, to make sure Joffrey didn’t get into trouble again. When he came out of the sedan, Joffrey found Daeron’s sportscar on his driveway.

It seemed that Daeron was here to collect his reward, or thank-you gift, as the blonde insisted on calling it. Joffrey would never have guessed that Daeron wanted sex as a reward. They had only fucked like what, five times at most? Or ten? Maybe a dozen? Twenty?

“You should have called me.” Daeron murmured to Joffrey’s nape, licking the wound he had just inflicted on the brunette’s skin, “I will fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to sit for a whole damn week. Are you really going to let some stranger from the bar fuck you?”

Joffrey tried to answer, but Daeron took the opportunity to thrust into him, the tip of Daeron’s cock brushing against his good spot, sending a rush of pleasure up his spine. Joffrey moaned and clenched his hole unconsciously.

“Answer me!” Daeron raised his voice, one arm wrapped around Joffrey’s waist, the other pulling the brunette’s hair, “Do you crave cock so much that any one will work?”

“You weren’t here!” Joffrey retorted, his eyes glistening with tears but his tone was full of hatred, “We are just fuck buddies. Do you expect me to keep pure for you, huh? I am not some innocent chick who will wear a purity ring for you.”

Daeron pulled Joffrey’s hair harder, forcing the brunette to exposing his vulnerable neck. Joffrey hissed in pain, but Daeron gave him no time to adjust. Daeron bit hard on the thin skin of Joffrey’s neck, just beside the brunette’s arteries. Daeron tasted blood on his tongue, the sweet and metallic taste made his very being sing with euphoria. He was a vampire when it came to Joffrey. His gum would actually ache whenever he laid eyes on Joffrey. He wanted to bite into the softness of Joffrey’s inner thigh, the hard muscle of Joffrey’s stomach, the juicy flesh of Joffrey’s ass, Joffrey’s arm, neck, chest, fingers, toes, and even the brunette’s cock. He wanted to devour them all.

Joffrey hissed, grunted and moaned, but he was unable to shake Daeron off. The blonde was like a persistent alien, determined to feed on Joffrey’s flesh, blood, and bones.

“Get off me, damn it!” Joffrey cursed, “I told you not to leave a mark.”

Daeron finally lifted his head from Joffrey’s neck, his lips and teeth stained with Joffrey’s blood, the usual calm and collected lawyer replaced by a lustful beast.

“I never promised I would follow your orders.” Daeron said, sneaking his hand down to grab Joffrey’s sagging cock, “You are not hard yet. Do I not please you, nephew?”

Joffrey knew the damn bastard was calling him nephew on purpose, reminding him just how wrong the whole thing was. They were related. They were both men. They hated each other. But why couldn't they stop fucking?

Daeron began to pump Joffrey’s cock while rocking his hips forward, thrusting into Joffrey’s ass without mercy. He thrust so hard that the lube he used earlier was squeezed out of Joffrey’s hole, as the nasty sound of his balls hitting Joffrey’s ass echoed the room. Daeron felt the brunette’s cock grew harder in his hand, sticky pre-cum dripping from the pink tip to his fingers.

Joffrey let out a muffled groan, arching his back and clenching his hole as pleasure took over him. He was in pain. His cock was ready to explode at any moment, the bloody bite marks on his neck and shoulder hurt like hell, his hole sore from taking Daeron’s cock for so long, and his hair was being pulled so hard that he felt his scalp was going to peel off. Everything hurt, but the worst of all, he was so fucking aroused by the pain.

“You are squeezing my cock so hard with your lusty hole, Joff.” Daeron bit Joffrey’s earlobe before licking off the small beads of blood oozing from the teeth-shaped wound, “Are you going to come?”

Yes, yes, he was going to come. He wanted release, so fucking bad.

“Fuck yes.” Joffrey murmured.

“I need you to promise me one thing.” Daeron whispered in Joffrey’s ear, running his finger down the brunette’s shaft.

“Anything!” Joffrey was going insane by the blonde’s teasing, “Anything you say, uncle. Just let me come!”

Daeron said something, but Joffrey couldn't hear a word as a wave of pleasure overwhelmed him. His stomach tightened, his toes curling from pleasure, his skin tingling with unspoken euphoria, as he came in Daeron’s hand. Joffrey’s vision went dark for a moment before he regained his senses.

“Good boy.” Daeron was planting kisses on Joffrey’s ear when the brunette could hear again, “I expect you to keep your promises.”

Joffrey hummed. He had no idea what Daeron had made him agree, but he wasn’t going to find out. Not now, anyway. He would rather cuddle in bed and maybe have a second round after he could feel his ass again. He was sure the promise was nothing. Probably some boring rivalry stuff, or Daeron was asking him for sexual favor. Either way, Joffrey wasn’t opposed to the idea.

Joffrey closed his eyes and began to doze off, with his ass filled with hot, sticky semen.

If you decide to be a whore, be my whore instead.