#i have no power and will to finish bigger pieces ugh

[phantonixx]

1 hour quickie

[redroom-rainbowguts]

A Little Mistake

Word count: 657

Tw: noncon surgery, drugging, suicidal ideation

Grey shouldn't, he really knows he shouldn't, but he can't help himself. He already planned to give you a heavy cocktail of God knows what- you'd lost that fight the second you first caught his eye- but the "medicine" he drips into your veins feels...different this time. He swears it was a mistake!

You know his panic is an act. In the time Grey has kept you stuck here, you've come to know him well enough to know he doesn't make mistakes. Double checking, even triple checking each label, he's careful and meticulous in his treatment towards you.

Hell, why did he even use general anesthesia on your chest if he wasn't planning on fucking around in there? Again. At this point you were more scar tissue than person.

Whatever else he gave you was kicking in, dragging you down into a haze of discomfort and confusion. There's an odd feeling. Not pain per se, but a pulling. A tightness. Ugh, he's cutting you open. You've grown all too familiar with the feeling, the pressure, of a cold scalpel on anesthetized skin.

A long, slow blink and his hand was inside you, droplets of blood collecting on his scrubs like rain on a window. His brows were furled. In this moment, you could almost see the man you once thought he was. An excellent student, a great problem solver, someone who did everything in his power to study how to make things better.

"Too long, need to pump-"

What was he saying? Feeling odd. Cold. There's a blurred shape over you. Shivering. So cold.

Pressure. Pressure! PRESSURE!

The world is sharply forced back into focus, and your eyes fall to his hands, both buried deep inside you now. He's... He's... Oh God you can feel him. He's manually pumping your heart. Every single beat was wrung purely from his ministrations. What were you now, if not a puppet whose existence depended solely on this man's hands controlling your insides?

"I always wanted your heart to beat for me, but perhaps it's better to keep that figurative, mm?"

If your body wasn't so numb, so infuriatingly heavy, you'd kick that goofy smile off his face. Always telling jokes at the worst possible time.

"O-oh, hold on."

Shit, the "medicine" was wearing off, granting you a (for once unwanted) degree of mobility, and Grey could see your disgust. He's... Embarrassed? Ashamed? No. He's caught. Caught being what you already knew him to be: a creepy, disgusting bastard who cares more about himself than-

Ohhh. He's given you something else. The world feels distant, deliciously softened by the drugs coaxing your brain into a dreamy lucidity. The haze feels good. It used to be frightening, but now, compared to the alternative, this haze was downright bliss. He's holding something. It's blurry, but you can just barely see that whatever it is, it's pulsing.

If you had the ability you would've jumped. Grey was close now, breath an odd mixture of mint, lemon, and... metal? He's planting kisses all over your face, muttering something about how strong and beautiful you are. He nuzzles your nose with his, then climbs up onto the gurney with you. Is your chest still splayed open? Did he put everything back where it belongs? Grey has tucked his face into the crook of your neck, and you're too heavy to sit up and check. He's snoring too, holding you with the iron grip of a scared child seeking comfort from their favorite plushy.

You look away, even your unfocused vision can't save you from the familiar half smile he only wears when you're incapacitated and bleeding.

The thought pops, leaving you empty and confused.

Even if he never finished the job, you'll have to wait for him to wake up. A piece of you hopes he never does,

but a bigger piece hopes he did forget, and you won't live long enough to find out.

[sparkbeast20]

You’re my Treasure (Mammon X MC) Pt13

The Blue Lotus petals (series)

As a fan of Beauty X Beast pairing, Showing your “true self” to Lover or (Monster Love) Tropes. I figure to make a (More Demonic Forms AU/head canon) story for each brothers. Heads up each brother’s Story is long as fuck. So, I’ll be posting them as parts and finishing one brother before moving on to the rest of them.

(spoiler for lesson 1-60)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6 Pt7 Pt8 Pt9 Pt10 Pt11 Pt12

Warning: Swearing, Demonic nature, Suggestive content.

Previously

The two snap out of their feral state by Levi’s scream, they turn towards Levi and shock to what they saw.

“Leviathan!?!, put that book down now!!”

You felt like something is missing next to you. Confuse you try to search it with hand but all you can feel was coins and clothing. You open your eyes to see that Mammon was gone.

You push yourself up and look around to see at no one is in the cavern with you.

“Hello?” slowly got to your feet and wander towards the mouth of the cavern, then you heard a voice call out to you, startling you.

You look up to see Beel looking at you.

“Your awake!” He flew down and immediately engulf you in a bear hug. “We were so happy to find you and Mammon, we didn’t stop looking ever since you two left.”

That feeling again, just came back. The feeling of guilt.

“Sorry to make you all worried”

He chuckles and tells you that breakfast is ready, you nodded and quickly flew out of the cavern and landed near the campfire where everyone is there and greets you.

“Ah…. Good morning, I guess?” once Beel let you go, Asmo was the first one to pounce at you and start rubbing his face to yours as he dramatically starts sobbing. After a moment of fake crying pulled away and cup your face and squishing it. “Look at you, a week of no shower or bath. *Gasp* a week wouldn’t be enough fix you and not to mention all the lost time we have make up since you and Mammon vanish”

You felt your chest tight, just hearing anything about casino and “running away” you feel guilt building up. You want to change the subject.

“I know, I look like I came from a post-apocalyptic game” you were hoping for Levi to jump in, to make one of his game/anime references. But you met was a confuse look from Asmo and Beel. And a dull look from Belphie and doubtfully look from Satan.

“If you look for Levi, he not here. He and Lucifer followed Mammon to who’s knows where” Satan broke the awkward silence.

“Ugh, Mammon is in a bad mood this morning, all though he did lighten up when I mention that you were sleeping…...what have you two been doing for the past week” Asmo grins and playfully bounce his brows up and down. Clearly thinking some private thoughts that Belphie are not to please to hear this early in the morning, he glared at him to stop with the “Asmo speech” but the fifth just wave his hand at him to stop his feeble attempt to scare him.

“Asmo how could I do it with him, when his three times bigger, and that his…... I don’t know a crow monster!”

“You said that his “Three times” bigger. Then that means his- OW!?! Satan the fuck that was for!” Satan smack him at the back of the head to cut that discussion short. He hisses at Satan, who just flash a fake smile at him, you chuckle at the Fourth and Fifth interaction.

“Anyway, why was Mammon in a bad mood?”

“I was just cleaning tail feathers, when squawk at me. I was just trying to help him”

You couldn’t say it out loud but every time you ask Mammon about his brothers, he just stay silent and turn his head away from you, like he didn’t want to hear about them.

Its like before the week you to left, Mammon starts too distant himself from them. As if he was irritated to be in the same room with them.

You felt your hands turning colder, as your heart start to beat fast. The guilt is killing you; all this happen because of you.

“I’m sorry…... this all my fault.” All of them turn and look at with a confuse look on their face. Satan was the first one to asks.

“What do you Mean?”

“……Mammon wasn’t the one who want to go to the casino……. I was”

It was a quiet night at the house, too quiet Mammon wasn’t his cheerful attituded that night even though it was Saturday night he tends to be at the casino by this time but he wasn’t feeling it.

You were at the couch in his room, doing some reading about the demon king and his time ruling for a report you’re doing.

While Mammon is laying at his bed looking at the ceiling with both arms under his head.

“Maybe we can play with Levi, he said that there was devil kart update last week”

“Nah, I’m not in the mood video games right now” he sounds tired and uninterested like all the passion in him is gone.

“Mammon” call to him in low tone and a slight worried, stood up and walk over to the bed and sat next to him. “Are you okay, did Lucifer or the others~”

“No, its….” He tilts his head and landed his sight on you “I think, I’m losing interest in cards”

“What? But you’re the sin of greed how are you losing interest in cards?” he sat up and look at the table by the couch with a stack of playing cards on it

“I don’t know…… it does excite or thrill me like it use to, maybe it has to do of me being in a slump lately. I mean babe, I lose all the rounds last week and all my cash in my pocket…... I think I’m losing my spark”

He lay back down to bed and turn to face away from you, not knowing what to do.

You hate seeing him like this, somehow its Mammon depress like this, just crush your heart. He always lively cheerful, full of himself, cocky and arrogant that why you love him. Even he does stupid and dumb things for cash. He is the light of this house and his brothers they just don’t want to admit it.

Then suddenly you thought of something to help your boyfriend, you lay beside him and start kissing him on the back of his neck.

“Babe, I’m not in the mood for sex”

“Oh……... I’m just doing this to grab your attention” you said it in a playful tone.

He turns you and with a pout “What are you gettin’ at?”

“Well….” You start playing with his hair “I have a couple of friends back in the human world that was in same state as you are right now”

“Yeah…... yer point?”

“Their solution is to change it”

“Okay now, I’m more confuse”

“You been playing poker and other card games normal and/or cheating” he looks at you narrow bows and his pout is even more sour, and you just chuckle and ruffle his hair. “You got used to it, and eventually the game got dull. So, I should come and play with you and make things interesting”

“You don’t like gambling, I’m even surprise that yer dating me”

“You know why I choice you right!” he turns away to hide his blush.

“Get to the point” he’s getting fluster, you try your best not tease him any farther.

“Yeah, I don’t like gambling…… but people change their mind about things and I want you to teach me how” you can see his face change into something to what his usual expression is.

“Yer tell me, that ya want the great Mammon to teach ya how to play and win”

You pulled out a grimm out of your pocket and show it to Mammon “I want more of this to buy something” you said like you’re making a deal with a devil. And his liking it.

“Go on……” he fixes himself in a sitting position with his hand under chin as you continue on to all the things you want to buy and other activities that you can only do with grimms. The longer you go on, the cocky grin on his face grow. He loves this feeling you indulging in his sin, what he saw is a wave of aura that he is the only one can see, surround you and your pact mark glows.

But to you you’re just talking about thing you want to buy; you know Mammon just love listening to you talk about things like this.

After all of that, Mammon jumps off the bed and turn to face you with his chest puff up.

“We’re not sleepin’ tonight, cause baby I’m teach ya all the tricks and cheats of this. By this time tomorrow we’ll be swimmin’ in grimms”

You smiled back at him, happy to bring back his spirit again “Can’t wait”

“After that, we spend all night playing cards until I memorize all cards in the deck. And we spend the nights at casino after casino earn wins and having fun…... until the Basto thing happen”

“So, you let yourself get too greedy and try to cheat for the thrill” Satan said with a stern tone. All you can do is nodded and try not to cry.

“I though changing things up and making them more exciting for him, will help get out of his slump…. But I didn’t want him to get all the blame and blame himself for me getting hurt” you start to sob and let the tears fall as you hold the case which should be off of you by now close to your chest.

Satan sigh and crouch right Infront of you and start talking.

“That was stupid and reckless of you, to act like Mammon, knowing that you’re playing a dangerous with powerful demons for the thrills” you nod as Satan continues “But what’s done is done, once this all over you and I are going to have a long talk” Satan pause for a moment and grab your case arm and looked at it and saw the writing in gold ink.

“But you shouldn’t blame yourself for Mammon hating himself for you getting hurt” he taps the case and it broke apart surprising you as you bend your wrist feeling free from it.

“Because this is what you are to him” he grabs a piece of the case of the floor, he gently grabs your hand and place the case on it revealing the piece is with writing My Treasure with the scribble of a feather next to it.

Your eyes widen and you looked up to met Satan’s eyes, he smiled back at you.

“Mammon loves you, if guns work on demons, he would’ve jump Infront of the bullet for you without a second though. Mammon is dumb but…...” he trails off and wipe the tears of your cheek. “His heart is in the right place”

“Satan’s right” Asmo fixes your hair “We make of Mammon from time to time, because his easy to tease. That’s goes to Levi with his obsession with his hobby, Satan’s with cats” Asmo can feel Satan glaring at him. “Beel with his eating, and Belphie with his laziness” Asmo pause for a moment remembering all the time Mammon and he were clubbing, and how he teases him on winning you, and boasting about in that was the best out of the seven of them to choose to be with. Sure, he was jealous all of them are, but seeing him happy like that and happy being with you. He couldn’t to smile and be proud of Mammon.

“We all care and love him, even these heartless demons won’t say anything” Both Satan and Belphie frown and look away from Asmo, who he and Beel chuckle of their brothers attempt to hide their emotion.

“Thanks…. All of you, I feel so much better”

“I’m glad, now let’s eat”

“Yes” without hesitation Beel start stuffing his face with the food he and Asmo has been cooking

“Make sure you save some for the three, we wouldn’t want to be in their bad side, if they came back hungry and expecting food waiting for them.” Belphie tells the others, and thinking what taking the older brothers too long to get back.

[literallydontlook]

The Unexpected (2/4)

You’re just not that interested in dating military men, nor have you ever been with an alien lover. But a chance Ascension Week encounter awakens something you didn’t know was inside. Chapter 2 of 4.

Pairing: Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: 18+

TW/CW: none (or if I’m missing something, please let me know!)

Tags: sexual tension, romance, slow burn, civilian reader, sexual fantasy, m@sturbation

Word count: 2k+

A/N: I know I said the whole thing is written, but I got sort of unhappy with it and thought I’d rewrite some. My Thrawn crush has sort of cooled so I couldn’t find the energy to do it. But! I am a woman of my word! Here’s part II, unedited, no beta we die like chiss. 

<-- Part 1 - The Trap

Part 2 - Friends

Dajmita had returned in the morning wearing last night’s gown, her makeup smudged from a night of sexual activity. Removing her shoes, she found you curled up in a blanket on the sofa. Your makeup from the previous evening in a similar state of disrepair.

“What happened to you?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“I tried to take someone home,” you groaned pulling the blanket over your head.  She smiled impishly and then faltered, “Wait - What do you mean tried?”

“How do you do it? I took him to my studio for a ‘tour’,” your hands motioned in air quotes, “and he bought a piece of art and left.”

Dajmita was torn between laughter and pity. She sat down beside you and stroked your hair, pulling tangled pins out as she tried to sooth you, “Only you could miscommunicate a hookup.”

Your data pad pinged and you grabbed for it blindly from under the blanket. You groaned, “Aaa ugh it’s already noon?” You threw your legs over the side of the couch and dragged your feet to the refresher.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” Dajmita called from the other room. You washed your face and pulled the remaining pins from your head, then pulled your hair up into a messy half bun. You sighed.

“I promised to meet a friend for lunch,” you breathed out tiredly as you brushed your teeth.

“You could just cancel,” she pointed out.

There was only the sound of scrubbing as you considered this. Spitting out the foam and rinsing your mouth you decided you shouldn’t flake.

“No...I should go,” you sighed again, pulling off your gown and rummaging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear. Dajmita gave you a concerned look.

“Well, I guess you must be pretty comfortable with this person if you’re going out like that.” You looked in the mirror and shrugged. You grabbed a cloak and pulled the hood over your head, “It’s not like anyone wants to hook up with me when I’m dressed up anyway!” you cried out over-dramatically.

Dajmita crossed her arms, “Don’t say that.”

“Just let me wallow for one day,” you complained, dragging your feet out the front door, “I’ll be back later.”

She laughed, “Fine but you’re being ridiculous! We’re doing something fun when you get back!” she called after you.

“Fiiine!” you called back.

——-

Eli had already found a table at Dex’s Diner when you arrived.

“What’s with the cloak? Did you have a uh...rough night?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. You glared at him.

“Whoa sorry we don’t need to go into detail,” he raised his hands defensively. You buried your head in your arms, “Nothing happened.” Your voice was muffled.

He realized you were serious as you sat back up to give the waitdroid your order. “What do you mean nothing happened?” he asked incredulously.

You took a deep breath, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, “Stars I can’t be talking to you about this!” you cried out.

“Hey I’m not a little kid anymore,” Eli shot back. “You can talk to me,” he offered kindly.

“I mean, what more can I say? We went to my studio and he bought a painting and then left.” Now that some time had passed, you could laugh a little. Then a thought occurred to you.

“Is he married or something? Or anti-inter-species?” Eli’s face twisted in thought, “He’s definitely not married, but to be honest I didn’t realize he had a sexuality.”

“Oh.” you considered this, not sure if you should feel better with this new information. The waitdroid returned with your orders - the smell of grease inviting you to indulge.

“Well he wants me to install the painting he bought on his ship,” you said, jabbing at the mush on your plate. You received his transmitted instructions earlier that morning which only reminded you of your failure.

Eli stopped mid-bite. “He wants you to come to the Chimaera? ...In person? He didn’t ask you to hand it off to a stormtrooper at the landing dock?”

“Is that unusual?”

“I’ve never seen a civilian aboard a Star Destroyer. I don’t think you’re allowed...but then again, it’s his ship, so I guess he can sort of do what he wants,” Eli conceded.

“I’ll send him a message to confirm,” You said, your heart beginning to race again. Why do I feel so...excited? You push away the thought.

“Enough about Thrawn. What’s up with you? What are you doing here? Last my parents told me you were training to be a supply officer in the Expansion Region.”

Eli sat back and sighed, not sure where to begin.

—-

“You cannot get hung up on a random guy you don’t even want to date!” Dajmita spelled out loudly as she shook you by the shoulders.

“Please don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not yelling! I’m just making sure you hear me,” she huffed. “You’re so desperate for a fuck. This isn’t some failure you need to overcome. You said yourself this guy might be ace.”

“Well why would he ask me to install the art on his ship then? Civilians aren’t normally allowed,” you countered.

“Maybe he’s just really into art and wants to maintain the artist’s original intent- I don’t know!” Dajmita threw up her arms in frustration, “Why do you even care? You don’t even like military men. If you need someone to fuck, just ask Endel. He’d definitely do it!”

“You know I can’t lead someone on like that! I think he still has feelings for me!” you turned back to the mirror to finish applying makeup, “Ok does this look like I’m not trying too hard? I want to be taken seriously as a professional but like, a hot professional.” You stepped out of the refresher clad in workers clothes.

“I mean, if that’s what you’re going for...Like a carpenter from a pornographic holo vid,” she assured you. You looked down at your top, “Is it too tight?” You tried stretching your arms up to see how much of your mid drift would be exposed. You tried bending over, too.

“Oh yeah - just do that a lot,” Dajmita purred suggestively.

——-

The Chimaera was much bigger than you had ever imagined. Several Lambda-class shuttles were docked in the landing bay where hundreds of stormtroopers and Imperial officers buzzed about their business in an orderly rhythm.

You suddenly felt very self-conscious. Your civilian clothes drew more attention than you were used to and even the officer who scanned your security clearance regarded you suspiciously as he read your destination from his data pad.

“You have an appointment with…Admiral Thrawn?” He asked incredulously.

“That’s right. I’m installing a painting in his office.” This seemed to make sense to him, but he reached for his comm for confirmation.

“Sir - There’s a...female civilian here to install a painting?”

Thrawn’s voice came through the comm, “Yes, please send her up with an escort.” Still somewhat suspiciously, the officer signaled a stormtrooper to meet you and he wordlessly lead you to a turbo lift.

You were fascinated by the cold design of the starship’s hallways. Every surface was immaculate, each crew member walking with purpose. There was almost complete silence, only the sound of murmured conversations and footsteps hung in the air. The path itself was dizzying - turn after turn after turn - you weren’t sure if you could find your way back.

Just as you began to wonder what was behind all of these sealed doors, your escort stopped at one guarded by another trooper.

“Code cylinders,” he demanded. Your guide handed him a pen-looking object and clarified, “This is only for her.” The object was inserted into a keyhole, opening the door behind him. “Go on in.”

Your escort turned and walked away, leaving you to enter Thrawn’s office alone.

The sound of clashing metal and of exertion filled the entryway. As you pushed the repulsorlift cart into the antechamber, you saw a door opened to a bright sparring room where Thrawn was combatting two large sentry droids. He expertly dodged each attack, countering with his own. You couldn’t help the warm feeling rising in your core again as you noticed his muscular arms for the first time. You imagined them pinning you to the floor as he pounded into you, a strong hand pulling your hair back.

Just as you caught yourself mid-fantasy, Thrawn noticed you and commanded the override code. The droids returned to their stations and powered down as the door hissed shut. You weren’t sure what to do next, but the door soon re-opened with a hiss and Thrawn emerged wearing his uniform jacket.

“I apologize - I thought I would have a few more moments before you arrived,” he said, fastening the cuffs on his sleeves. “Please, come in.” He ushered you through another door leading to his office. A large desk was situated in the center of the room, two reptilian sculptures flanking the display shelf behind it.

Thrawn led you through his office to an adjoining living space. “I’d like the painting to hang here. Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Th-thank you,” You shivered, realizing it was significantly colder here than in the hallway. Thrawn noticed your nipples had hardened in the cold, their outlines visible even through the layers of your shirt and bra. It was going to be difficult to concentrate today. He excused himself as you unloaded your work and began dismantling the piece’s wooden transport casing. After almost half an hour, you were able to carefully free the painting, only to realize it was too unwieldy for one person to lift.

You found Thrawn in his office, carefully studying star charts at his desk. Another fantasy intruded and clouded your vision: sitting at the edge of his desk, the holos of planets splashed against your skin, your legs spread wide as he drank in your cunt. He tweaked your nipples as you moaned in pleasure, the danger of being discovered only heightening your arousal. You breathed in deeply to ward away the thoughts.

You cleared your throat and he looked toward you.

“Could I have some help?” you asked, expecting him to call another officer or trooper to assist.

“I’m at your service,” he said to your surprise. He followed you back into the other room.

“I just need a hand lifting this onto the mounting brackets,” you explained. Thrawn situated himself on one side of the canvas and you heaved it up together, guiding its hanging wire in place. Just as it was lining up, he stole another glimpse of you. Your shirt rode up slightly as you worked and his eyes lingered on the small sliver of mid drift that was becoming more and more exposed in your exertion. With a deep breath, he fought back his primal urge to lunge.

You both stepped back to evaluate the painting’s placement. There was a long silence.

“…Is it…to your liking?”

“Yes…” he mused quietly, “Thank you…I believe I still owe you…payment.” His last word was almost a purr and you flushed as you fantasized a another meaning. Did he notice?

You followed him into his office, where he unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out a bundle of credits. He handed them to you, your fingers accidentally brushing against each other in the exchange. He saw your jaw tighten.

“I’ll be stationed on Coruscant for the next few months. There’s an exhibit on Mandalorian folk art that I think would be…educational. Would you care to join me?”

So he wasn’t going to bend you over his desk and have his way with you. Perhaps he really was only looking for a companion to discuss art with - he obviously wasn’t getting that kind of engagement from his peers. You were disappointed but not heartbroken. After all, it wasn’t like you had romantic feelings towards him. You accepted this invitation to friendship.

“I’ve been looking forward to that exhibition myself. When do you want to go?”

[saphirered]

Caleb, Essek and SO go back to Aeor after the campaign. SO is the muscle who keeps their squishy wizards safe for the journey. But something happens and now this warrior is also a wild magic sorcerer. How do they all cope?

Aeor’s been fun, even better that you get to go for a good dungeon crawl with your favourite wizards. You’ve found many new areas, many artefacts, and so many things Essek and Caleb have been fawning over ever since getting their hands on it; all the new precious shinies. Of course there had been plenty of incidents to accompany all of this. Wild magic surges are unavoidable when you’re running amuck with not one but two powerful wizards. You’ve been in the thick of it just as much as them. You were quick to find out these ‘side effects’ of spellcasting can have a ranged effect just as much as they can affect the individual casting said spell.

A wall of force holds back several creatures blocking off one path. Essek’s fighting back two, hold monster keeping one out of his range while he slings spell after spell at another. Caleb’s not doing great so you do what you can to keep the beast attacking him distracted, though these creatures are prone to attacking spellcasters over anyone else and that happens to be Caleb. You’re not reliant on magic to harm your enemies.

“Essek!” You shout over to the drow hoping he can be of any help as Caleb takes yet another hit. If this keeps going you’ll be short a wizard and with that damn monkey preventing any healing magic to take effect there’s not much you can do to save him if he down. You’re not sure how long you can keep this going yourself and you’re pretty sure Essek and Caleb are running out of spells.

No matter what, Caleb needs to keep concentration on that wall of force. If that goes down you’re all screwed. At the middle of the crossroads there’s one more gate but it’s closed and neither of you had the chance to reach it before you got ambushed. Caleb stumbles, you grab him around the shoulder pushing him behind you in the hopes at least you’ll be able to shield him from more damage. Lucky for you this creature isn’t doing so hot either so you’re on equal ground.

Purple glowing darts whistle past you striking the creature in front of you. It growls in pain as they explode. It lashes out at you and with no way to avoid the blow, you take it. Damn that hurts but you stay your ground, coming back around with a hit of your own. Caleb takes a few steps back releasing magic missiles of his own and that combined with your final strike, is enough to take down the hulking creature.

Reassuring you he’s fine Caleb leans on a piece of rubble to catch his breath. You don’t buy it. You have to get that door open. You have to but the moment Caleb steps out to take out the gem, the creatures will forget about Essek and come for him instead and that’s just something both you and Essek will not allow. So, you sit Caleb down behind the rubble away from view of the open hallway should anything have found its way around.

“You stay here and take cover. I swear, if you’re going to be stubborn about it I’ll feed you to these Aeorian hunters myself!” You hold Caleb by the shoulders. Wether it is because he sees reason in your argument to stay out of the fray or because he has no energy left in him to argue, you don’t know but Caleb nods. Good. You kiss the top of his head before you step back.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Caleb calls after you holding his shoulder in pain watching you turn your attention to Essek and the oversized monstrous cat he's fighting.

“Because there is so much you wouldn’t do.” You return sarcastically running at the creature getting a little too close for comfort for Essek. The drow jumps back to avoid a claw strike. You slide down on your knees to avoid the claw yourself, in the momentum swinging your blade at the vulnerable extended arm of the creature. It tries to bite at you but you’re back on your feet quickly, side by side with Essek.

“We have to do something. We’re not going to last like this.” Essek glances over to the injured Caleb. He’s fully aware you’re right. You have to do something and do it fast. The panther-like creature bites at Essek but you interpose your sword making it bite down on the metal instead. The action angers the creature enough to swipe its claws at you. A sharp warm sensation cuts through your skin. Good thing you’re high on adrenaline to keep the pain mostly at bay. You come back around moving to its side flank and cut your sword through the eyestalk tail. The creature screeches in pain as Essek finishes it off with a a ray of frost.

“I can’t contain that thing much longer. Swords are not going to be much good in this anymore.” You’re inclined to agree as with the last creature Essek’s got restrained had previously proven you do not want to be anywhere near it. It almost took you down in a single swipe. Imagine what it can do when you’re already bloody and bruised.

“You must get that door open at any cost. I got this.” Essek passes you the access gem you’d used for any previous doors you came across. “Be careful.” You nod. It rests upon you now and you’ll have to work quick.

“You too.” You offer him a quick kiss as Essek turns his attention back to the creature restrained by his spell and anything else that might show up in the distance, prepared for the worst.

You run to the door swipe the gem across the pad. It doesn’t work. You try again. Nothing happens. The gem in the wall lights up but the door remains closed. It’s done that before at other places and you come to the conclusion your key doesn’t give you access to this ward. Okay, that’s bad but like Essek said; at any cost. taking the pommel of the dagger you keep on your side you slam into the gem embedded in the wall with every ounce of force you can muster. The gem cracks and you see the light beginning to bleed through. You strike again. And again. And again. Over and over as shards go flying. Then, one final blow the gem explodes in vibrant light. You’re thrown back like a rag doll.

Disoriented everything is brighter around you for some reason and you’re having trouble making out any detail. Wisps of light floats in front of your face and you bat it away as the familiar purple eyes stare into you with concern, a hand touches your cheek as you’re lifted to your feet with some difficulty. Ugh, what happened and why does your head feel so light? Your arms are wrapped around two sets of shoulders and you’re all but dragged through a doorway and into a space you haven’t seen before.

Placed against the wall, one figure leaves your side while the other stays. This time it’s a blurry haze of orange that appears in front of you. Like a distant echo you hear screeching and howling, through the ground you feel pulses like heavy footsteps hitting metal. What the hell is going on? You blink away the effect and there’s a constant ringing in your ears. You see a concerned Caleb trying to keep you conscious, talking to you but his words fall upon deaf ears. He turns his head away from you shouting something in the direction the other figure; Essek had gone in. You turn with him and see Essek desperately trying to close the door.

You need something. At least your brain says you need something. All you can think is orange. Orange and silver for some reason. You search your brain just to get some clarity. Orange stone. You need amber. Three silver pins. That’s what you’re looking for. You pull at Caleb’s sleeve repeating the components. Caleb thinks you’re in some kind of delirium as this has no correlation to anything and you have no reason to ask for these components as they’re no use to you anyway. He’s sorry but you’ll have to wait. Your wellbeing and the safety of Essek and you are more important than fulfilling your request right now.

When he doesn’t give you what you want and shuts you down in a careful manner, in favour of his panicked conversation with Essek you decide to take the components yourself. Grabbing the component pouch you search for the materials and Caleb while confused lets you be. He’s got bigger things on his mind right now. Once you have what you need you get up. The wizard tries to stop you as you wobble to find your balance but you’re stronger you repeat the words in your mind, accompanied by the motions. Caleb shouts out to Essek you’re under some kind of effect and the drow tries to stop you. You don’t, not even when Essek holds onto you to prevent you from stepping out further. The words finally spoken out loud, the motions correct, albeit not very practiced, a lightning bolt arcs towards the creatures coming in your direction.

Hitting the first creature the lightning bounces between the others in the near vicinity. The creatures howl and screech in pain. Hand outstretched you have no idea what the hell just happened but the creatures scurry away as the door falls closed. Both Essek and Caleb look at you as if you’d just grown a second head. You realise everything is so bright, even brighter than before because you are. You’re literally glowing lighting up the entire space. Essek has trouble looking at you directly shielding his eyes.

“Essek, Caleb, what’s happening to me?” You try to brush off the glow from your person but it sticks remaining ever so bright. Now it’s your turn to panic. The wizards confused, cannot help but be curious about what may have caused all of this. Essek wraps his arms around you and pulls you close as you try to wrap your head around the last few moments. The embrace is loaded with emotion that makes you question the gravity of the situation you thought it to be. Was it that much worse? What did you miss?

Caleb quickly gathers his components and gets to summoning the tower. Right now you need a safe space to get this all sorted. What you don’t know but your wizards got to experience first hand was the time between you being thrown across the hallway and you waking up. It wasn’t good and a conversation definitely needs to happen. By the time the doorway appears the glowing has subsided and you’re grateful it has because e you don’t know how much longer your eyes could take. Is this how Essek feels any time you’re out in the bright sunlight? You imagine he's in the same boat as you but that doesn't prevent him from keeping you close, even if he has to shield his eyes.

You’re sat down on a couch and both Essek and Caleb scan you over, making note of all injuries you sustained, but they find them mostly healed over, just the faint marks remaining of freshly healed wounds. The two of them share a look that has you growing worried. They ask you all sorts of questions. What do you remember? What did you feel? How do you feel now? Do you remember events in your past? Your birthday? The names of your friends? You answer all questions correctly and they feel safe to say that by some miracle you haven't sustained any brain damage but that narrows down whatever theories they might have previously had.

“Please just tell me what’s going on. I can’t take this anymore.” You burst out after yet another row of questions.

“Everything is alright, just calm yourself. We’ll figure this out.” Caleb grabs your hands but you pull them free. When you do words escape your mouth. Caleb acts as if he’d gotten a shock or something. He curls his fingers in pain and hesitantly takes one of your hands in his as if he expected to get shocked again. He shares another look with Essek and you’re praying to the gods they’ll just get out with it because you can’t take it anymore.

“We think, you may have experienced a wild magic surge when you burst that gem.” Well, yes that much was obvious, right? You hit the gem, gem went boom, you got thrown across the room and…. oh… yeah… that looks bad. Maybe more happened that you just taking some bludgeoning damage from your impact.

“And we suspect you might have absorbed some of that energy… As displayed by your instinctual casting of a chain lightning spell not only out of your area of expertise but also surpassing your own previous magical abilities.” Essek treads carefully rubbing circles into your back in an attempt to comfort you as you process. This is not an easy thing to just take in and accept.

“So I’m like you now?” You ask confused about what this all means. You’re a fighter. You use weapons. Your spellcasting abilities are limited. Or they used to be according to what Essek and Caleb told you. Granted, you hadn’t magically forgotten how to wield a a sword or how to fight. That just doesn’t make it any easier to wrap your head around it.

“Yes and no. If this is as we expect you won’t be spending hours studying and copying spells into a spellbook. Instead you’ll grow into it more through a naturally sourced connection to the innate side of magic.” Caleb elaborates. He doesn’t have a vast amount of knowledge on innate magics developed naturally instead of through rigorous study but he grasps the concept well enough.

“So how long will this last?” You ask. Will this just disappear one morning and you’ll be back to your old self or are you stuck like this now?

“We’re not sure yet. It might pass with time or the wild magic has latched onto your innate capabilities and will further develop.” Essek explains as you lean your head against him. You don’t know what to do and to be completely honest neither do the wizards. They’ve never experienced anything like this before but they love you and will always be there for you. Right now you need some sense of stability so if they can provide that they will. There’s nothing like questioning everything about yourself and your life and they know exactly how it feels. You won’t have to go through this alone. Not if they can help it.

“I won’t pretend we’re experts on the subject but believe me when I say I will be there for you, we will both be there for you no matter what you choose to do. If you want to gain a better understanding of this we will stand beside you. If you wish to find a way to reverse whatever happened, we will scour the worlds just to find a solution.” Caleb kisses your palm as you smile at him. You’re not sure how you feel about all of this but to know your wizards have your back is a comfort you need right now and they happily provide it.

“I think I wish to understand. For now.” You nod to yourself. There’s a certainty and determination both wizards catch onto they recognise from within themselves; a desire to learn and understand what they previously did not. While they certainly wanted to learn more about the cause of your sudden conversion into a sorcerer fuelled by wild magic, they would never press you to do so out of their own selfish natures. This is a choice only you can make and they’ll respect. That doesn’t mean they’re not happy with your decision.

They’re already plotting and planning, figuring out where to start. They look forward to not only understanding your magic, where it came from and how it happened but also to teaching you what knowledge they have. Wild magic can be a dangerous thing as shown by your ventures into Aeor many times over so you’ll need to learn not only how to control and avoid incidents like shocking Caleb on accident, but also assure you’re not flying by the seat of your pants any time you get into a scuffle. The chain lighting incident worked out in your favour but what if the next one doesn’t. It’ll be a long and difficult road but one you can walk together. That’s all you need; your wizards at your side. And this is all just a new kind of adventure.

[bokutosfatass04]

How we became a couple

Sakusa x reader

Genre: Smut

Warnings: some bullying (done by y/n), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex (please contact me, if I forgot some warnings)

Minors dni

———————————————————————

I knew I hated Sakusa Kiyoomi the first time I saw him. It wasn’t because he was kind of anti social, but because he was kind of picky, and had huge obsession about germs.

I didn’t understand why was it this way, why did everyone like him, though sometimes he was rude. I know that Sakura was in volleyball club, and I am not going to deny that he is good, but why did everyone like him?

I was in class, and every time he took the out, to write on his perfect book, he literally had to disinfect it.

‘’Hey, Sakusa, why is it that every time you take your pen out, you have to get rid of the germs? I mean you could just come with gloves to school, couldn’t you?’’ I laughed after that. Everyone in class joined.

He looked at me ‘’Yeah, I could, but it’s better to disinfect things that have germs on it, then to come with gloves that can have millions of germs on, don’t you think?’’ He replied.

His stare was kind of blank. Or no, it was saying If you keep going to be this way, I’m going to reply this way, or worse.

I got chills, but didn’t particularly stop.

I sometimes called him Mr. Germy in class, or even throw something at him, like a price of paper, folded to look like a snowball. Then it was pens, and then it was erasers.

He didn’t look like he cared.

Late at night, I was thinking of the things I did. I think I bullied him. I didn’t have a feeling of regret, or even guilt. There was something else, something everyone is going to feel one day.

Feeling of love.

Love

Love

Love

I spent the rest of the night thinking about the word, and Sakusa.

I mean I bullied him, right? It isn’t as though he hates it, but it doesn’t seem like he likes it either, I had many night thoughts like these, this night, until I fell asleep.

I kept bullying him, and bullying him, and bullying him.

Until one day we were alone in class, alone in the school. Everyone went home, and we were given the responsibility of cleanung up the classroom.

I found a piece of paper lying under Sakusa’s desk. It wasn’t big, but I couldn’t resist, and threw it at him.

It was the first time he turned around, like fully turned around. He was walking towards me, and having that scary look on his face.

‘’y/n I swear if you do it one more it’’ he tried to say.

I found a pen lying on someone’s desk, I took it, and I threw it at Sakusa’s shoulders.

I laughed. He grabbed my hand.

He grabbed my hand, and pushed me backwards. He looked hungry.

I kind of liked it, the way he did it, the way he looked, the way he grabbed my hand.

‘’Sakusa, if you don’t want to get germs on you, please just let me go’’ I said, hoping it could work.

‘’You know y/n, the only germ I see, is you, and I kind of want to destroy you’’ he said, smirking at me.

I felt something in my chest. Something warm, something that wanted to go out, and it was painful.

I tried to say something, but he kissed me.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was powerful, I could sense he needed this, or maybe wanted this. No, I needed and wanted this.

I kissed him back, and we had kind of make out session.

Until he went between my legs.

I panicked.

He didn’t go down, but he simply went between them. I sensed something touch me, something hard. I pulled away to look what it was, but Sakusa grabbed my chin for me to look at him.

‘’Don’t worry, you’ll se it soon’’ he said, kissing me, but this time he put his tongue in my mouth, and he let go of my chin.

Then the same hand touched my- my-

‘’Oh, what do we have here? Y/n’s pussy all wet?’’ He teased.

He rubbed my clit, and I couldn’t resist, but having some kind of moan.

I was a bit happy, because some of my pain in my chest released. Maybe it was this way it worked?

He rubbed more on my clit, and I loaned more.

It was fun, but I needed more.

‘’More, please more’’ I said without hesitation.

‘’Okay, but if I’m going to pleasure you, you hav to be named’’ I could sense hunger in his eyes.

I started to take of my clothes, and he stopped me by his hand.

‘’Not stripping, no. I want to take it while I kiss you, and maybe more’’ something came out of me down there, and I blushed.

I couldn’t say a word, so I nodded.

He kissed me, kissed me like he didn’t before.

His hand touch my chin, then it went my by throat, and to my shirt. He started to undo buttons, but slowly.

I didn’t have the time, but Sakusa was dominant, and I loved it, so I distracted myself, in this wonderful kiss.

My shirt came off, then my bra came off.

He touched my boobs, squeezed them in his hands, and then ended the kiss.

He kissed me going lower, and lower, until his mouth met my boob.

He played with it. It was painful, but I loved it. I moaned, and moaned and moaned.

He took my boots off, my socks off,y skirt off, and then my panties off.

I was naked.

He looked me up and down, and said ‘’you look more beautiful than what I imagined’’

‘’Wait, did you-‘’ I stopped, he brushed his thumb there.

He smirked ‘’do you like it, when I do this?’’

He did it again, and again.

‘’Or when I do this?’’ He said, putting his two fingers inside me.

I moaned.

He smirked.

His two fingers moved slowly inside of me, it was good, but I wanted more.

‘’Please, ‘Kusa more!’’ I almost screamed.

He got close to my face ‘’Y/n if you don’t get any quieter, the whole neighborhood, is going to hear you’’ he smirked ‘’but I’m going to lie, if I say that it wasn’t my intention in the first place’’ he finished, and then added one more finger.

‘’Ugh, please’’ I moaned.

‘’Please what? Y/n if I have to do things you like, you’re going to have to say things, fully’’ he teased, again.

‘’Want more’’ I moaned, almost out of breath.

‘’Who wants more?’’ He asked, smiling.

‘’I- I want more!’’ I screamed.

He took his fingers out. I looked at him.

‘’Just wait, you can do it, right?’’ He asked.

He went behind me, took a few tables, and created kind of big surface.

He took his pants off, and then his boxers off, and I saw this huge thing.

‘’ ‘Kusa you’re huge, like huge.’’ I say, he smirked, and went in my way.

He pushed me towards the end of this table surface, so he can get enough place.

‘’Sorry y/n, it’s your choice, we can end it now, because I don’t have any condoms, or you can risk of being pregnant.’’ He said.

‘’But can’t you control it?’’ I asked.

‘’Yes, I can, but not with you.’’ He said, going more and more near me.

‘’Then, get me pregnant.’’ I said.

‘’Like a good puppy.’’ He said, stroking himself a bit.

He went in, and went it further, and further.

It was painful, but god, it was so goood.

I couldn’t resist, but moan every time Sakusa’s moving.

His thrust wasn’t so big, until he went in all way. Then his thrust began to be bigger, and bigger, until I couldn’t take it.

In one thrust I could sense something warm. and then he began to move harder, and harder, until he touched my v-spot.

I moaned ‘’please-please, not there!’’ I said, but he did not listen.

I started to cry, it was so good, I cried.

He took my face in his one hand, and looked at me, smiling.

He stopped, and took it out.

He looked how his cum was going out of me. The one thing he did, was to push it inside of me, until no more dropped out.

Then he decided to clean me, he helped me take my clothes on, and help me stand.

He cleaned the rest of the classroom, and that’s how we became a couple.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Demonic Intervention (Indruck)

Prompt for the 7th: “Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.” - The Tempest (William Shakespeare). This fill is NSFW

It can't get much worse. 

Indrid is barely scraping by. He can count his friends in town on one hand. He’s gay in a tiny, rural community and one of the few men like him is a goddamn priest. His house is a mess. And his every waking moment is filled with the demons of his past or the devils lurking in his future. There are so many of them in his present too, roaming the streets of Kepler. 

What’s one more in the mix?

He lights the stubby black candle by the bed, scratches the symbols on the floor, and retreats into his cocoon of blankets to wait.

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

Duck hates when it’s his turn on the summoning shifts. All this ancient knowledge and power and he’s stuck waiting to see if some yahoo in a graveyard or a wannabe cult leader will call him up into the world. 

He has brambles that need pruning, damn it. 

His name isn’t well known among humans, so he only gets summoned if someone is just rooting around for a demonic entity without caring who they get. He’s only been summoned twice in the last hundred years. The tingle in his horns tells him it’s about to be three. 

The room he arrives in is gloomier than any graveyard; the lights are off, the curtains are shut, and the place looks like it got hit by a tornado with a grudge. By the light of the candle, a pale-haired head emerges from the blankets of the small bed. A hand reaches for the floor, comes back with a pair of red glasses.

“Greetings, infernal one. Thank you for answering my summons.” The man’s voice is flat.

“Even demons got manners. So, uh, what’s the job?”

“There are so many dishes in the sink that the thought of doing them is an insurmountable task. Please do them for me.”

“...You realize I’m takin somethin’ from you for this, right? Like a piece of soul or a month of your life?”

“Mmmm” The man rolls over and says nothing else. 

“A day of your life for this.” Duck feels like he should haggle more, but then he’d had to pretend he actually thought a higher price was fair. 

“I accept your terms.” A crackle of green and black electricity flickers in the air in the form of  Duck’s signature and the other man’s name: Indrid Cold.

“Pleasure doin’ business with you.” 

Indrid says nothing. Duck is sure to wash and dry before he goes. 

The next day he’s summoned to the exact same room, in the exact same state of depressing mess. 

“Greetings, infernal one. Please clean this room.”

“Same terms?”

“Mmhmm” Indrid is just staring at the ceiling. 

“You gotta say you accept.”

“I accept.” 

Duck snaps, turning on the light, and gets to work. Technically he could do all this with a wave of his hand. But then he’d lose his chance to learn a little more about the guy who’s settled on demonic deals instead of a maid service. It’s the opposite of the usual problem he has in these kinds of situations, where the humans reveal their deepest secrets, desires, and fears within five minutes of meeting him. 

The records he stacks near their player, the clothes all go in the hamper to be magicked clean, then are hung in the closet; they’re loose and soft, not a scratchy fabric to be found. Tarot cards and candles abound, as do art supplies, and under a pile of drawings he finds magazines featuring muscular, hairy men in various sexual positions. Some of them even look like his preferred human form, the one he’s wearing now. 

He glances at the bed; Indrid is on his side, facing him, must have been watching him at some point but has dropped into a restless sleep. The blankets are slipping, showing a The Sonics tank top hanging off skinny shoulders. Right, that was one of the bands in the record stack. 

Duck doesn’t tend to pry into souls or auras or shit like that; there are whole heaps of trouble that lay that direction. But as he flicks the dust from the bookshelf covered in paperbacks, he feels the edges of Indrids and nearly falls on his ass from the wave of exhaustion and loneliness. 

When it’s time to go, he pauses to pull the blankets back up around him, sets his glasses on the bedside table, and turns the calendar on the wall from “September 1974” to “October 1974.”

When he’s summoned right back to Indrid’s room the next evening, he spots the same tank top on him as he sits up in bed.

“Greetings infernal one.”

“You can just call me ‘Duck’. It’s a nickname.” 

“Oh” Indrid blinks, perplexed, “very well. I, ah, there are some bills that need to be paid to keep the lights on.”

“You need the money for them?”

“No, just for someone to fill out the forms and checks and put them in the mail.”

“Okay. But my fee’s a little different this time: you gotta tell me when you last ate.”

“I accept. I ate this morning.”

Duck snaps his fingers

“Two days ago!” Indrid yelps, then slaps his hands over his mouth. He glares, “why does it matter?”

“Because while I’m payin those bills, you’re eatin’ dinner.”

“Everything in the fridge is disgusting and I can’t go to the store.” 

Duck takes the short trip out to the kitchen, opens the fridge to the new sound of Indrid’s footfalls behind him. 

“You got lots of decent stuff in here; could make you some eggs?”

“No, thank you.” Indrid shakes his head, looking a bit ill. 

“Well, what do you want? I can summon it up.”

“I’m out of Lucky Charms.” The humans says sheepishly, staring at his bare feet. 

A fresh box of cereal appears on the table, Duck pulling out the half empty bottle of milk. He thinks back to the drawings he saw yesterday and conjures a bowl covered in a pattern of brightly colored moths. 

He gathers the stack of bills of while hearts, stars, and horseshoes rattle into the bowl. After a few moments of crunching he hears, “May I ask a question?”

“Shoot.”

“Why is your nickname Duck? Does that word mean something else in demonic speech?”

Duck stuffs paper into envelopes, “Nah. It’s, uh, kinda silly but, uh, most demons learn how to take on an animal form. When it was my turn, they asked me which I wanted and, uh, I said I wanted to try bein’ a duck. Liked it so much I stayed that way for three months.”

There’s an odd, strangled sound that makes him look up; Indrid has one hand over his mouth and is shaking with little squeaks. He’s laughing. 

“I’m, I’m s-sorry but, but I, I cannot get over the image of you as a little, feathery waterbird.”

Duck smirks, “Only part that ever gave me trouble was the quackin’; always came out too deep.”

He just manages to pull the envelopes back as milk comes out the human’s nose and he giggles uncontrollably. 

“Ow, ow, heeh, oh g-goodness, I’m s-sorry I, I just haven’t laughed in so long, ugh, there’s milk on my shirt-”

“Guess you’re gonna need to shower now too.” 

“Nono, I can just change-”

Duck waves the bills back and forth, “Uh uh, if you want me to actually put these in the mailbox, you gotta agree to shower.”

“But that’s changing the terms!”

“Demon.” Duck grins. 

“Very well. Let me finish my dinner first.” Indrid scarfs the rest of the cereal, pads back towards the bedroom while Duck cleans the table. He waits to hear water running before going to the mailbox. When he gets back he sticks his head into the steamy bathroom.

“I’m gonna go now.”

“Oh, alright. Thank you again.” Indrid pokes his head out from the shower curtain and Duck resists the temptation to make the whole barrier disappear just for a peak. What can he say? He’s always liked his humans a bit unique looking. 

He draws a special sigil in the steamed-up mirror and heads for home. 

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

Indrid sets the candle on the table, lights it, adds the symbol he found in the mirror, and then starts unpacking his groceries. 

“Lookit you doin’ chores.” The whiff of burnt pine needles accompanies Duck’s voice and draws the tension from Indrid’s shoulders. 

“I’ll have you know I swept today as well.” Indrid turns and crunches the bag of potato chips in his fists; Duck hasn’t put his horns or claws away, and his shirt is half unbuttoned. 

“Caught me while I was gardenin, which is why I ain’t as put together as normal. What can I do for you?”

“This may sound strange but, ah, what is the fee for just talking with you?”

Duck’s eyebrows shoot up and then he chuckles, “You’re full of surprises, little moth.”

Indrid touches the luna moth on his shoulder; how much had Duck studied him when he was here? Did he like what he saw? Does he give everyone he makes deals with nicknames that come out in a drawl like summer honey?

“Hows a little nibble of the old soul sound?”

“I accept. Ah, would you like some cookies? A friend of mine brought them over to me.”

“Sure. The fella on the fridge bring ‘em?” The demon indicates the picture of himself and Barclay, the one he can’t bring himself to throw away. 

“No. My friend Dani, she’s in charge of the gardens for the little co-op in town and when the bakery has seconds she often drops them off for me.” 

He really needs to stop staring at Duck’s chest, even demons probably find ogling rude. Duck’s eyes--one blue, one brown-- catch his own and suddenly claw tips are undoing the remaining buttons. Indrid goes pink but manages to get the cookies and two glasses of water on the table without incident. 

“You know, you never told me why you stayed a duck for so long.”

“It’s the least demonic thing you’ve ever heard but, uh, I just thought it was nice. Bein’ out in the woods, paddlin’ on the lake and watchin the world go by. Sleepin under the stars. Just makes you feel like you’re part of somethin’ bigger than yourself. Now, I got a question for you; why go to all the trouble of summonin’ me just to do your chores?”

Indrid bites his lip, “I knew I was in the kind of mental place where I could not manage it myself. And it felt safer to ask you than to ask my friends. Not that they wouldn’t help me. It’s just, when my mind is like that it turns so inward I can’t conceive of a world that might contain things for me.”

The demon says nothing for a moment, sips his water with a thoughtful look. Then he sets down the empty glass, “Glad you’re feelin a little better.” He tilts his head to indicate the sketch on the counter, “that new?”

“Yes” excitement bubbles up in his chest, “I was reading about--ah, well, it’s, it’s sort of a long story, I don’t want to bore you.”

Duck kicks his feet up on the spare chair and gestures for him to continue. So he does, tells the demon about reading every book he could find on the mythology and folklore of the Mexico and the American southwest, about his new inspiration for a series of drawings, his worries that no one will like them or purchase them and he’ll be stuck running his little psychic side business until he dies 

Duck, in turn, tells him about life as a forest demon, about his hellcat, and about the fact he routinely comes up to the human world for french onion soup because the stuff made in his realm never tastes right. When Indrid next looks at the clock, it’s well after midnight. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long.”

“No complaints here. But I oughta get home and feed Winnie before she shreds my cabinets again.” The demon stands, rounding the table, “gotta get my fee first.”

“Right. How should I…” Indrid stiffens as Duck bends forward, wondering if the sharp teeth that smiled at him all night are about to pierce his skin. 

Warm lips meet his forehead and he sighs at the tenderness in the gesture. Duck, however, moans as he pulls back, then quickly covers his mouth.

“Uh, that, that’s a totally, uh, totally not, uh, un-normal reaction, uh, fuck, see you around.” 

He’s gone with a campfire crackle, leaving Indrid to wonder how a demon can be such a terrible liar.

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

“Sweet fuckin hell.” Duck gasps as his living room forms around him. His lips still tingle from kissing the human’s forehead, from the sheer force of the want and yes that came when he took that sip of soul. It’s never like that, never comes so willingly and eagerly, like the soul is searching for someone to look after it. 

Technically, there’s nothing stopping him from zipping right back up there and pinning Indrid to his bed while he takes what the human seems so happy to give. 

Duck takes five deep breaths, then ten, and then goes to retrieve Winnie from the cabinet she clawed her way into.

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

When Barclay suggested Indrid find someone to confide in, Indrid’s going to guess he didn’t mean, “routinely invite a demon into your house to play cards or listen to music.”

Most times, Indrid isn’t even summoning him; they have two standing dates a week, plus a game night with Dani and her new girlfriend, Aubrey (who Duck seems to know but refuses to say more about how). Duck will sometimes drop by unannounced, and he hardly ever collects a fee these days. When he does, it’s always a taste of Indrid’s soul, taken via a kiss on the cheek. 

Indrid would let him take it any way he wanted. He’s well past denying the fact Duck is type in all his forms, that he’s gentler than most humans, and that he’s so charming Indrid would eat out of his hand. 

Duck even goes out with him, like the boyfriend he wishes he had. When he puts on his human form to accompany Indrid around town, he radiates enough residual, demonic energy that the people who normally make Indrid’s life a living hell stay far, far away. In fact, tonight is the first night in months he’s had something close to a disaster, and it was mostly an accident. He’s peeling his beer-soaked shirt over his head when he feels mis-matched eyes on his back.

“Have a little too much fun bartendin’ tonight?” Duck holds out his hand, rendering the shirt fresh and clean when it touches his palm.

“Some caveman hit on one of our regulars and would not back off when asked. She threw a full pint of beer on him and I happened to be standing right behind him when she did.” He wiggles out of his jeans, let’s Duck give them the same treatment he gave the shirt, “ugh, I need a bath, I smell like Rheingold.”

“Allow me.” Duck waves his hand and steam wafts from the bedroom, goes into it and grabs the bubble bath from under the sink as Indrid follows him in his underwear. Duck’s constant glancing at his crotch and legs makes him bold. 

“What’s the fee for such excellent service?”

“No fee, little moth. I’m just doin’ a favor for my friend.”

“And what if your friend wants to repay you anyway?”

When the demon looks up from the tub, his eyes are glowing, “Only if he’s doin’ it because he wants to and not because he owes me.”

“I want to, so very badly.”

In a flash Duck is in the tub, beckoning Indrid to join him. Indrid tests the water with his finger just to be safe.

“Mmm, nice and warm.”

“Hellfire, sugar. Now get your cute ass into the tub or--oh fuck yeah.” Duck growls as Indrid strips and climbs in with him, drags him into his lap and traces his claws up his sides while Indrid yanks him into a kiss.Curious, Indrid reaches one hand up to rub the base of his horn, the dark brown curls like smooth bark beneath his fingers. 

“Fuuuck” Duck groans, “feels like gettin a back-rub.”

“Then I better keep at it. Oh, oh my” Indrid sits back to admire the vines of green appearing in Duck’s skin, “you’re absolutely beautiful.”

“Kinky little thing, you like that I’m a demon.” Duck scrapes his teeth along Indrid’s shoulder, “that really why you summoned me? You were hopin I’d have my, uh, demonic way with you?”

“N-no, I, I, it’s no secret I’m attracted to you but I, you make me feel so happy, I’m so safe when I’m with you, and, and if all your care and affection towards me has been part of some malevolent plan please, please just tell me because I, I think I’m falling in love with you.” He kisses Duck with far more force than before, forestalling the inevitable confession that this was all just a game for his soul and his own, pathetic admission that he’s not sure that changes anything. 

“Oh, sugar” Duck keeps brushing their lips together as he speaks, “First time I tasted your soul I knew I was fucked. Knew I wanted to keep seein’ you, even if you never gave me another goddamn thing.”

Indrid buries his face in Duck’s shoulder, letting out shuddery sighs as Duck pets his back. He’s never leaving this spot, Duck is just going to have to carry him about while he does his infernal business and his housekeeping.

“Tell me what you want, little moth.” Duck kisses the shell of his ear. It still tingles, even when his soul stays put.

“Please fuck me? Oh! Oh that’s very efficient and extremely strange.” He squirms in Duck’s lap as his ass turns slick and stretched, like someone has pulled four fingers from it.

“Do it the traditional way some other time” The curved head of a cock bumps his ass, “you wanna feel just to be sure you can take it?”

He flails in the water a moment, finds a warm, responsive shaft with four, bumpy ridges leading to the head. It’s no bigger than the one toy he splurged on during his last trip to the city.

“Yes, certainly, oh, oh, AHHhnnnn yes.” The cock is hotter than his body as it slides in and he wonders if it will just melt him from the inside out, if Duck’s cum will be just as warm, how it will feel on his tongue and down his throat when he drags the demon into his bed.

“That’s it sugar, take it all the way. Fuck, been jerkin off to the thought of you on my dick for months.”

“Nnngh” Is his eloquent reply, the ridges of Duck’s cock making his toes curl and his fingers dig into Duck’s skin. 

“You like that idea, little moth? Knowin I could be out temptin anyone I wanted to and instead I was in bed thinkin’ about you?”

“Mhhmmm” He whines, the desire pouring off the demon wrapping around him and soothing his insecurities. 

Duck slows the thrusts of his hips and his voice is gentle when he whispers, “Course I did; no one can compare to you, ‘Drid.”

“Ohgod, Duck, please, please, please, want to be yours, always yours-”

“Careful,sugar, that sounds like you’re anglin’ for an infernal marriage.”

“A, a what? OHhhhnnyes” He moans as claws knead his ass.

“It’s a special kind of deal where a human agrees to marry a demon. Soon as they’re dead, they go straight to their spouse, no other options provided.” Duck cups his face, holding it steady so he can look into his eyes, “but there ain’t no need for that right now; way I see it, we can do this like we were just two normal fellas for now.”

“But it sounds fun.” Indrid offers a teasing pout and gets an adoring kiss in return. 

“Yeah? What if I tell you a lot of demons mark their spouses by piercing these” He pinches Indrid’s nipples, the pain making him bounce more determinedly on his dick. His demon growls, drops one hand down to thumb at the head of his aching cock, “pierce here too. Won’t even do it in public like you’re supposed to; do it at home so no one else will see just what a sweet, needy thing you are for me--whoah, fuck, did not expect you to cum just from playin with this nice dick a little.”

“V-very sensitive” Indrid gasps against the green swirls in Duck’s shoulder, his orgasm such a surprise he’s still registering it, hips twitching and tongue threatening to loll out of his mouth.

“Keep that in mind for next time. Might even bring a cage so you don’t cum too early and spoil my plans. Now, hold tight, little moth.” 

Indrid clings to the warm bulk of Duck’s body as his cock pounds up into him, the demon easily holding his hips up and his ass open so all he can do is whimper and writhe on it. When he cums it’s hot enough that Indrid squirms

“Don’t hurt does it?” Duck pets his sides, concerned. 

“Nono, it, it’s nice, just very strange.” Indrid winces as Duck pulls out, watches him wave his fingers to clear away the mess. When the demon makes no move to let go, Indrid looks up, “you really meant what you said? About wanting me as a boyfriend?”

“Damn right I do. Now c’mere, lemme get the beer outta your hair.”

Indrid hums as Duck scrubs his scalp and runs warm water over his skin, talking all the while about how they should go camping as a first date so no one will bother them, says he’ll even turn into a duck to make Indrid smile. 

Indrid says he knows just the spot, let’s his boyfriend dry them off and bundle them to bed and then, for the first time, falls asleep with a devil in his arms.

[callmecallmecrazy]

Preppy 1

*****

Warning!  This is not my usual fare.  Back in college I got very into preppy clothing and wrote a few short stories that I never shared anywhere.  Figure I might as well post them for posterity.  Enjoy this 2007/8 flashback!

*****

Two athletic men hauled Shawn into a dark room with a gurney table, and strapped his arms and legs down.

 "What the fuck?" Shawn shouted, his shaggy hair covering his eyes.  His muscular body struggled uselessly against the leather restraints holding down his body.  "Who the hell are you fuckers?"

This caused the two men to stop suddenly.

"My goodness, how rude of me," one spoke.  He was a tall man.  He was wearing Sahara Sperry topsiders, pleated khakis, and a hunter green sweater. Peaking out from under the sweater was a blue and yellow striped oxford shirt.  The collar was buttoned tightly around his neck, which was adorned with a simple yellow tie.  His hair was cut in a short buzzcut.

 He offered his hand out in the gesture of greeting and smiled at the man he had strapped down. "My name is Cody Bellford, please call me Skip.  And this," he said as he pulled the other man towards him in a sort of man hug, "is Ace."  The shorter man smiled.  He too was dressed in pleated khakis, but was wearing a light blue polo with a popped collar. His hair was longer than Skip's, cut into a crisp flattop.  Both men had athletic, strong bodies that were highlighted by their attire, but still looking very dressy.

 "What the hell is going on?" Shawn screamed.

"Ugh, so barbaric," Ace sighed.

"Don't worry, we'll get you cleaned up."

"Cleaned up?" Shawn asked.

"Yes," Skip began to explain.  "Cleaned up.  Groomed. Presentable.  Your appearance and mouth reflect poorly on yourself and the school.  Wouldn't you be happier if you were groomed and proper?"

"Fuck you!" Shawn retorted.  The two preppy men just smiled to each other and began their work.

 Ace walked up to Shawn's chest and proceeded to rip the oversized t-shirt off his chest, exposing Shawn's voluptuous pecs covered in fur.  At the same time, Skip had proceeded to cut the sweat pants off of Shawn's legs.  In few more simple motions, Shawn was lying nearly naked on the table, only his privates covered by a pair of striped boxers.  His strong legs were lurching against the confines of the straps, and the veins in his arms and neck were bulging from his constant resistance. Shawn finally glanced upwards to realize that a full size mirror hung over him.

 "You have a good physique, Shawn.  You should take better care of yourself," Skip said.

"What?"

"This hair is disgusting.  You would look so much better if you were more streamlined."

"Shit, shaving body hair is for fags!"  Shawn was still struggling against the restraints but it was useless.  He was exhausted, and the reflections of the two groomed, calm men standing over him confused him.  Here he was, stressing and fighting, and they were calm and collected. In charge.

"Lots of men shave their body hair," Ace explained.  "It works for some, but you would look better trimmed." Skip handed Ace an electric trimmer, which he turned on and waved delicately in front of Shawn's face. Shawn looked in terror as Ace took the blade over his chest and began to strike down the forest of hair growing across. He could only look forward and watch as his reflection was slowly denuded across the chest and abs.  Skip made eye contact in the mirror and smiled brightly at the terrified man.

 Next, Ace continued his swarthy path on the legs, reducing the long hairs to fine fibers, highlighting the deep cuts along his quads and calves.  Beyond his range of vision, Skip had been stirring a pot of hot wax, and now sat down next to Shawn.  He took one of Shawn's hands and applied the wax on the hair covering his fingers. With a quick rip, and a tired yelp from Shawn, one finger was clean of unsightly hair.  Skip continued the process across all five digits and the back of the hand, then proceeded to do the other hand.  Ace had moved on to the arm that Skip had finished and removed all the hair from Shawn's wrist to his shoulder.  Skip went down to Shawn's feet and quickly ripped the hair off of his feet and toes.

 "Goodness, Shawn," Ace smiled at Shawn in the mirror.  "You look so much better now."

"Yes, I think so too. You should keep this look." Shawn stared at the two smiling men in the mirror, finding himself drawn into their bright smiles and amber eyes. He wanted to look away, but his face was held in place.  He tried to close his eyes, but he was constantly drawn back into the soothing haze of their white teeth and tan skin.  His skin did look good.  His skin had a natural tan and without the hair it seemed that his muscles were bigger, more cut, more defined. Maybe it wasn't, no, he hated it.  Shaving body hair was stupid.  But kind of sexy...

 "Now, about these," Skip said as he cut the boxer shorts from Shawn's body.  Shawn was shocked into silence as Ace roughly gripped his package.

"Don't worry," Ace said, again smiling.  "I'm not a pervert.  I just want you to be the best you can be."  And with those words, he once again turned on the electric trimmer and carefully reduced his pubic hair to a short stubble.  A few more quick strokes near the inner thigh, and both preppy boys stepped back and addressed Shawn in the mirror.

 "You look swell, Shawn," Ace said.  "This clean look really suits you."

"Yes, I agree," Skip said.  "I think everything we're doing you should maintain.  Weekly should be enough for you to look presentable everywhere. It's important to be groomed and presentable at all times.  You don't want to meet the wrong person looking poorly."

"Wrong... person?" Shawn stammered, he was nearly overwhelmed by the whole situation and found himself increasingly groggy and incoherent.

"Yes, there are the right people and the wrong people," Ace explained.  "If you meet a bank president, you don't want to look like a grunge band member.  You want to look like you know a Brooks Brothers inside and out.  That's how you get ahead."

"Oh, but... I ... umm.... shit," Shawn said, exerting a tiny bit of resistance in an attempt to move his head to the side.

"And don't swear, Shawn," Skip said.  "You sound unprofessional and uneducated.  Looking your best means acting your best."

"Umm, okay."

"Don't stutter or stammer.  Speak clearly and decisively.  A man."

"Okay."  Ace and Skip smiled to each other, and for just a single moment, Shawn smiled himself.

 "You are coming along very well, Shawn.  Just a tad more and I think you'll be a new man."

"Yes, I agree. Shawn just needs a few touch-ups and he will be an ideal gentleman."  Skip stepped out of view for just a second and then reappeared. Into the mirror, he held up a pair of classic y-front briefs.  He pulled on them slightly to emphasize the item.

 "These, are the ideal underwear for a conservative, preppy man.  That's what we want you to become.  That's what you want to be Shawn.  All of this is just so you can be a gentleman."  Shawn's eyes bulged as he saw the old-fashioned underwear. Ace undid the straps on his legs, but Shawn found himself too exhausted to move.  The boys gently lifted up his legs and slip down the tight, white briefs. They traced up his thighs and gently began to engulf his crotch and butt.  With a sharp elastic snap, he felt the band settle against his waist.  He had resisted looking, but curiously he peered at his image.  He looked amazing.  The briefs looked so presentable and manly.  He felt powerful and in control.  Once again, Shawn found himself smiling pleasantly.

 "Feeling a tad preppy?" Ace teased.  "Don't worry, only one thing left."

"Your hair," Skip said.  "It's so rough and wild.  Not the image one wants to send."  Shawn had nothing left inside himself to resist.  He merely nodded as well as the straps would let him.  The table holding up his head receded, and Shawn saw Ace holding his neck up while Skip brought over a pair of clippers.  They sprang to life with a low growl.  Skip wasted no time in reducing the sides of his head to nothing.  The shaggy haircut was being quickly reduced.  He ran the clippers over the sides of his head, leaving a white wall of flesh behind in its wake.  That finished, he proceeded to comb the hair back and began hacking it off.  Large chunks of brown hair fell to the floor as Shawn was shorn.  Finally, with about an inch left, Skip wet the hair and brushed it all up.  Using a small trimmer, he proceeded to flatten out his hair, until the top was a level plain identical to Ace's square hair.

 "You need something drastically different," Ace explained.  "Such a dramatic change proves how intent you are on improving yourself."  Skip just nodded as he continued to even out the top of the hair.  Shawn was nearing his breaking point, as he watched his long, mangled hair replaced with a corporate hairstyle of precision and execution. Skip applied some strange wax to the hair forcing it to stand up straight.

 "After some practice," Skip began, "your hair will hold itself up.  But the wax is still good measure."  Shawn found himself nodding as the knowledge of how to maintain his new hairstyle sunk into his freshly exposed head.  Skip pulled the head piece out from the table, and Ace let Shawn's head rest on the table.  The two prepsters stood back and admired their work.

 "You look like a decent guy now.  No more grunge or nasty college boy."

"No, you look like the prefect preppy."

"You are going places. Meeting the right people."

"I'm sure you'll get a great job and make lots of money."

"You've already met us. And there is a bunch of men back at the house excited to meet you."

"Of course, you should join the fraternity.  Men like us need to stick together."

"Don't you like this Shawn.  Being preppy. You look so much better."

"You're a born-again preppy.  We prefer you like this.  And all the brothers want you like this.  You want to be like this, don't you?"

 Staring at himself in the overhead mirror, Shawn was shocked at how much he liked his reflection. Formerly shaggy hair now stood straight up over his head, looking stiff as a board.  Whitewalls on the sides, his ears seemed to stick out a little - something else he found surprisingly appealing.  His tan, muscular body was shown to all its glory, his former resistance giving his body a sheen from sweat and muscle tension.  Without his body hair, he looked bigger, stronger, and cleaner.  He had always thought that shaving body hair was nelly and silly, but he looked much better now.  And then the briefs.  Tight, white briefs with a full cut covered his nether regions.  He had always worn boxers.  But there was something alluring about the underwear, with its clean-cut lines. Almost unconsciously, Shawn found his face slowly being filled with a charming, pleasant smile.  His dazzling white teeth began to cover more of his face as the empty grin consumed him.  Brown eyes lit up with a sort of cordial ambiance.  

 He liked it.  He really did.  Shawn was suddenly overwhelmed with a dire urgency. Something he had never felt before welling up inside of him.  He wanted to be like the preppy boys.  To be like this.  Attractive and fit and well liked and happy.  To be successful and entitled and self-assured.  And surrounded by men his equal.  Men as fit and clean and productive.  To be engulfed in their manly etiquette and mannerisms.  Better yet, be a part of group of such men.  To be part of a fraternity.

 All at once, Shawn's sudden pleasant nature began to override the rest of his personality.  So what if he wanted to dress, act, be one of the preppy boys?  If anything, being a preppy boy would be good for him.  He would get in with the right people, wear the right clothes, be the right kind of man. The kind of man Shawn would never have been on his own.  And he'd be happy.  It sounded pretty great to Shawn, who continued to sink into a cheerful bliss.

 At this point, Skip and Ace proceeded to undo the straps holding Shawn down.  He allowed the two well-dressed boys to help him off the table and he thanked them politely.  Manners were always important after all, but too much thanks sounded sarcastic or desperate - neither of which were admirable qualities in a man.  Ace gave Shawn a gentle pat on the back and a bright smile.

 "Feeling better?"

"Yessir, thank you both very much," Shawn replied.

"Of course," Skip replied eloquently.  "Here, you might want to get dressed."  

 The boys handed Shawn a pair of khaki Dockers’.  He slipped the pants up his muscular legs and pulled them high over his briefs.  The khakis sat a little higher than his normal baggy pants had, and Shawn liked it.  It was a much classier fit.  As he zipped up the fly and buttoned the top, he noticed the pants were pleated.  Actually, it was a double pleat, he was pleased to note. For some reason, he had always hated pleated pants.  He didn't know why.  Clearly, they were a much smarter look on a man.  More formal.  Next, the two fraternity boys gave Shawn a light blue oxford shirt, complete with a little polo player on the left breast.  They helped him tuck the shirt gently into his pants as he began to button the shirt up. He stopped before the very top, but Ace flipped up Shawn's collar and proceeded to button it to the very top. His neck was a little too thick for the buttoned collar, but he realized it would force him to carry his chin high, with pride and confidence.  Yes, a high collar was definitely better for his posture.

 "A proper man doesn't wear a button-down shirt without a tie of some sort," Skip said coyly as he approached Shawn, a line of fabric resting in his hands.  Shawn couldn't see what was happening as Skip proceeded to tie a tie on his neck.  At the same time, he felt Ace fumbling with the cuffs of his shirt.

 Skip stepped back and admired his handiwork and once again presented that gorgeous white smile to Shawn, who was pleased to return the cordial charm of the other man.  Ace was working away at his hips, looping a brown leather belt through the hoops of his Dockers.  Skip held up a pair of blue dress socks with a purple and yellow argyle pattern on them.  Shawn smiled and lifted up one leg, and then the other, feeling the stretch of the fabric engulf his feet.  When he set each foot down, a pair of penny loafers had been set in the way, forcing his foot to slide elegantly into the leather classics.

 "Just a tad preppier," Ace said as he pulled up the final item.  A sweater vest, with a black, grey, and white argyle pattern on it. Shawn could see thin yellow and blue lines running between the diamonds.  He lost his vision as the sweater was pulled over his hair and rested on his broad shoulders.  Rough hands began adjusting the sweater across his body.  It was a bit of tight fit given the size of his pecs and shoulders. The belt was adjusted, the tie straighten, the hair fluffed.  Meanwhile, Skip had pulled over a full-size mirror.  When Ace stepped away from Shawn, taking his place next to Skip, Shawn could finally see his new visage.

 He was a preppy boy. Pleated khakis over an oxford shirt and sweater vest.  It hadn't been a traditional tie that was put around his neck, but rather a purple and yellow bowtie.  Classic cufflinks had been used on the cuffs of his shirt.  Combined with the brown loafers and belt, he was the spitting image of a preppy boy.

 Spitting image?  Shawn thought to himself.  How inappropriate.  More like the classic construct of a prepster.

 "I think Tad is preppy now," Ace said as he looked over the new prep's outfit.

"Think you are a Tad now?" Skip said as he slipped his hand on the recently madeover man's shoulder.

"Skip, Ace, thank you both very much.  I would be pleased if you called me Tad.  Shawn is so uncouth."

"We understand, Tad," Ace said. "Neither of our names befit our preppiness.  Hence, we have preppy nicknames."

"Well, Tad, I think that it's time you went upstairs and met the rest of the men.  You are in the fraternity now, correct?"

"I would be honored to be a brother. Rush begins today?"

"Oh, you're not going to need to rush.  In fact, we would like you to greet the rushees."

"Absolutely!" Tad exclaimed.  "I am honored to represent our brothers and our fraternity."

"Great, let's get you settled in."  The three brothers walk upstairs into the house, to introduce Tad to his new life.

 Later that day, as the rushees came into the house, the brother meeted and greeted all the potential men.  Among them, was a preppy man with a flattop and a purple and yellow bowtie.  He was wearing pleated khakis and a sweater vest. And his nametag had 'TAD' written in bold letters.  It crossed his chest in the same place the little polo player did.  Aside from the nametag, he was nearly indistinguishable form the other brothers.  And in the next week, a few more good men would find themselves proud brothers of the fraternity and brothers in preppiness.

[httpswwwtbhkcom]

“It’s my fault you got hurt.”

[Headcanon]

Pairing: Minamoto Kou x Reader

[@httpswwwtbhkcom’s masterlist]

Summary: You insisted that you want to join with Kou to find supernaturals over and over again until he agreed. Soon after, he finally gave in and let you follow him in finding a supernatural. You two finally found one and defeated it. You had fun but you were injured in the process.

Warning: grammar errors, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of you losing legs, octopus-like-supernatural, You getting hurt in two ways, trigger warnings, mentions of bones breaking, 

Genre: fluff to angst, a bit of fluff in the end(?), comfort(a bit?),

Keys:

Y/n- your name, s/o- significant other,

A/n: This was from my drafts- unfinished. When I made this, I was probably like, so energetic and happy(?) to make a headcanon with an energetic reader cause this was a bit- ugh. But I finished it and decided on posting it anyway cause it would be a shame if I stopped writing and deleting this fanfic. 

Reader: Neutral

Very energetic reader

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

You knew Kou was an exorcist. How did you know? He trusted you. He- Kou Minamoto, your lover, boyfriend, s/o, and soon-to-be-husband, told you that because he loves you!

Kou was even nice enough to help you see supernaturals too! (The same method where Yashiro summoned Hanako.). And boom! That’s how you met Yashiro and Hanako!

You were stoked and asked Hanako so many questions- not too personal though, simple like: “A supernatural has powers right? What power do you have?” “What are these pink bunnies? These are so cute!” And many more.

You knew you were asking to much but you can’t help it! It was your first time seeing something so rare.

Kou can’t help but chuckle at your cute behavior, I mean like- who won’t?

Anyways- You had cleaning supplies in hand then accidentally heard that their going to do some adventures since they’re bored. You quickly burst the door and shouted “CAN I JOIN?!”

Of course, they- 3/3- said no. They said it was too dangerous and you can wait and play with the mokkes. You stood there pouting and begging to them until they finally gave in.

It took 2 minutes straight for them to finally give in. (With Hanako going out the room for a few seconds then coming in asking if your done then leaving again when he sees you still pouting.)

Hanako was the first one to agree (Kinda reluctant but still did it for you to shut up.), Yashiro was the second, she was very worried about it, but agreed to see you so desperate to join. And the last person was Kou. He didn’t want for you to join him but he knew how much you have talked about him wanting to join him with his adventures. Plus, he didn’t want to see you sad. It breaks his heart :(

You four were in the middle of somewhere. You were holding Kou’s hand while looking around the place. Whispering ‘Woaaah’ and ‘Oohhh’ every time you see something that catches your eye.

Kou holds your hand tightly while he protects you and him from supernaturals lurking somewhere near the four of you.

Yashiro was just beside you talking to you every now and then. “Y/n-san, Don’t you think this place’s a bit scary? There’s dangerous supernaturals here and you seem excited.”

“I don’t mind, plus. It’s not like we’re going to get in danger right? We have each other’s backs!”

Then soon after you said that, you and Kou were immediately teleported to another place without Hanako and Yashiro. In front of you were a octopus-like supernatural, but bigger. You watched in awe as Kou went in front of you, with his raiteijou in hand. His raiteijou was sparking and you looked at it in amusement.

“Y/n! Go somewhere safe! I’ll deal with this!” He shouted. You nodded and obliged to his command.

Once you were in a safe distance, you watched as Kou was almost squished by one of the supernatural’s tentacles. “Fuck.” You cursed, grabbing a weapon (Like, a long piece of wood that flew beside you). And running towards the supernatural.

You threw your weapon at the supernatural, distracting it for a moment. While Kou electrocuted it with lightning.

While the supernatural was being electrocuted, one of it’s tentacles were going to fall on you. Kou noticed you and the tentacle which was falling down on a fast pace, yelled to you to run.

You pushed your feet to run as fast as you can but you tripped on a rubble and fell head first on a rock, immediately making your head throb then you became unconscious. Your head bled at the impact. The tentacle landed on your legs (Of course breaking the bones.)

The crunch sound made Kou extremely worried. After the supernatural was finally defeated, He immediately went beside you, using a cloth to cover your bleeding head then carrying you bridal style. He ran back to the other side of the world and you two went to the hospital.

A few hours later, you finally woke up, you sat up and everything hurting when you move. Kou looked at you in relief and surprise and told you to lay down and rest while helping you.

“What happened?” “You tripped and hit your head.. Then one of the tentacles crushed your legs..”

Your eyes widened in fear. You didn’t like this. Negative emotions started to swarm you as you continued to think of your adventure.

You were snapped from your thoughts when you felt hands gently yet it had a firm grip of your shoulders. Your eyes met Kou’s before him softly kissing you.

“I know your devastated. It’s my fault..” Kou apologized.

“What do you mean? I wanted to join you, Yashiro and Hanako to an adventure. It’s my fault. I wished I listened to you in the first place. Maybe this wouldn’t happen.”

“No.” You flinched at Kou’s stern tone. He noticed and his voice softens once more. “It’s my fault you got hurt.”.

“If I reasoned with you more, I- I might’ve stopped this from happening. May- maybe Hanako can help you.” Kou continued, panicking himself but trying to reassure both of you.

He hugged you and you melted. He was such a sweetheart.

You did your best to try to hug him back and you both stayed hugging each other for comfort for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry.” You said after finally calming yourself down.

“I’m sorry too.”

A nurse opened the door and saw the moment. The nurse gasped and apologized, telling you and Kou that it was time for your check up.

“It’s fine. Do I need to leave?”

“No need! You can sit and wait while I check them up.”

After your check up, Yashiro ran to your room in a fast pace. She went to and hugged you while panting.

“I- I came here as fast as I can! I- it took a while for me and Hanako to get out of the place but I’m here!- Are you alright Y/n?”

Yashiro began asking you in panic and concern about your wellbeing. 

After answering almost all of them, Yashiro thought of a solution.

“Ah! We met a supernatural that can heal both people and supernaturals! This is great! We could ask them if they could heal your concussion and your legs then you’ll be good as new!”

“That’s convenient. Good news, yet so con-”

“When can we meet them?!”

☽✧ ✦ ✧☾

E/n: I got a bit lazy with the ending but soon after you were finally out of the hospital, you three (with Hanako) went to the supernatural and got your legs healed. The end. sorry-

[peppermint2d]

Love your hcs!!!! Can I get some for Murdoc? <3

Of course! Thank you so much for your ask, you literally made our day we've been freaking out since we got it! These headcanons are a little all over the place, but we hope you like them ♥ If you liked this, please send us an ask!

tw: Murdoc

Assorted Murdoc Headcanons

is a midnight snacker and likes to snack especially after sex

will cook an actual meal at 1 a.m.

an actual meal meaning kraft mac and cheese

he loves driving but has terrible road rage

but most of the time he doesn't have a license because of his DUIs

because he can't drive, you have to drive him around, and he is the WORST BACKSEAT DRIVER

he yells nonstop

"Take the left"

"Google says to go straight"

"Who is smarter me or google?"

he puts his shoes up on the dash and leaves dirt there

he is always late everywhere "it's fashionable, love"

he blasts music too, so loud you can't hear the GPS, so loud he broke the speakers

he will talk about how he is better than what is playing unless it's David Bowie

he sings along loud too

if the music isn't making you deaf, then he is

he loves to fuck with the buttons in the car, always moving the windows up and down and adjusting his seat

sometimes you gotta put him in the backseat with the child lock on so he will stop moving the windows and opening the doors while you're driving

he also tries to GRAB THE WHEEL WHILE YOU'RE DRIVING

one time you had to use a dog collar to leash him to the backseat so he won't climb into the front and TOUCH THE STEERING WHEEL

he doesn't mind the collar because he's a kinky bastard

"babe make the collar tighter babe"

"Murdoc shut up I'm literally trying to drive"

he sticks his head out of the window like a dog

if the other cars are bad drivers he will stick his head out and yell at them and you gotta drag him back in like cyborg noodle in stylo

he cracks dad jokes and they are really bad

"Wanna grab lunch? Are you hungry?"

"I'm not hungry, I'm Murdoc!"

cue the sound of everyone groaning cuz it's the third time he's said that joke today

We thought long and hard about what his ice cream order would be and we decided on:

a waffle cone since he likes to use his tongue 🥵

fruity flavours like rainbow sherbet, cotton candy, and definitely piña colada

he tops it all off with whipped cream, rainbow sprinkles, and a cherry

He does the thing where he ties the stem of the cherry to really show off what his tongue does 😏

Ficlet

"Murdoc, this is a bad idea... You don't even like chocolate!" You really didn't think that bringing your boyfriend to an ice cream shop would become this intense.

"Love, bad idea is my middle name." He licked his lips and turned to the cashier. "I want to do the banana split challenge."

The cashier was in shock. The Banana split challenge has never been successfully completed. Many have tried and many were fools. "Are you sure you want to try it, sir? You only get five minutes..."

"No, Murdoc, this is insane. We have to go meet the band after this for dinner. This will spoil your appetite!" You tugged on his arm, trying to break the determined stare he was giving the challenge advert.

"Garçon," he said with a bad french accent and too much flair, "bring me the banana!"

All the other patrons were looking at you two now. Whispers filling the air. "Not the challenge..." "He has so much still to live for..." "Another gone too soon..." "What is a banana..."

You took the table for two by the window since Murdoc wanted "the pedestrians to know of my greatness!" You ate your scoop while he waited for the server to prepare the dish, trying to avoid the gazes of those looking at you and your green man.

"Now, let's talk strategy." Murdoc reached out his hand in a gimme motion. Usually, that hand gesture meant that he had a new lyric to write down and that he needed your purse notebook, however this time, he started to sketch his enemy. "I say I eat the banana first. Give the ice cream time to melt so that I won't spend so long trying to break off pieces, yeah?"

"I mean, I guess, but wouldn't liquid ice cream take up more room in your stomach than solid?" You pointed out.

"Love, if the ice cream is solid, I'll have a brain freeze!"

"That only happens to people with brains, you should be fine."

"You wound me."

When the banana float arrived, it was monstrous. Even though Murdoc may act like a child, they used adult sized portions.

The whole thing may as well be bigger than your head. You stared wide-eyed as they placed it down on the table with an audible thud. Murdoc, however, only seemed to grow even more excited. “You’re really doing this?” you looked at him with the last bit of hope that maybe he’d just give up.

“I am.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Oh shut up.” You listened as the employee who brought out the ice cream quickly explained the rules of the little competition one last time. 5 minutes. Finish the ice cream. Then finally, they set the timer.

Murdoc wasted no time, immediately working through the ice cream. It was, quite a sight, you thought. Like a little kid presented with dessert, eating as fast as they could. It was actually very amusing. Kinda gross, but still amusing. He tried his best to go along with his plan, moving the ice cream around to eat the banana first. It seemed though, that he did not account for how fast he could eat the banana. “It’s still so frozen.” he pouted as he tried to scoop off bits of ice cream, breaking the scoops up in what you assumed to be an attempt to melt it faster.

“It’s ice cream, Mudz. I don’t know what you expected.”

“Ha ha.” he rolled his eyes at you, then turning back to the huge bowl in front of him he committed to just eating the incredibly cold, and still not liquid, ice cream.

He ate all that a lot faster than you expected him to. You could only imagine the brain freeze, or how cold that would feel on your teeth. Murdoc seemed unfazed though. He powered through. And you weren’t sure if it was a surprise to you or not, he finished on time. You were shocked he ate all that in so little time but the more you thought about it, was it really that surprising? This is Murdoc we’re talking about here. When the timer went off, the employees came out to cheer for him, and the other patrons as well. Apparently, no one had ever done that before. Murdoc however, had pushed the large bowl away from him and had his head laying face down on the table.

“Mudz? You alright?”

“Brain freeze.” he groaned back at you, but he still didn’t lift his head.

“Oh you poor thing. You’ll live.” you rolled your eyes at him, but he still didn’t move. “Come on, you beat your challenge, we gotta go now.” you stood up and walked around the table to his side, nudging him slightly.

“Noooo it’s so bad, love, you have no idea.”

“Babe, I’ve had brain freeze before.”

“Not like this.”

You rolled your eyes at him again, not that it did much as he was barely looking at you. “You did this to yourself.”

“I’m dying.”

“You’re not dying.”

“I am.” You stared down at him, and after a moment, decided it was enough of his whining. “Ok, we’re going now, let’s go.” You pulled him up by his shoulders, then dragged him up the rest of the way. The whole time he complained and whined. He really was a child. The whining continued as you dragged him out of the shop, out to the parking lot and into the car. Constant mumbling of “brain freeze” and “love it hurts so bad” had you wanting to laugh at him if it weren’t for the fact that you were the one putting up with him. Even in the car, his whining continued.

“Murdoc you’ve been whining about your damn brain freeze longer than that stupid challenge even lasted.”

“Cuz it hurts.”

“Well, what do you want me to do? I told you not to eat all that.”

“Alright, mom.”

“Ugh” His whining continued on and on for what seemed like forever to you. You blocked it out after a while. Then suddenly, he just stopped. “Hey babe,” he said, and you looked over at him to see him staring at you with a shit-eating grin. Well, that was a change in mood.

“Yeah?” you asked him, almost cautiously.

“I won that challenge.” Oh. That’s where he was going.

You sighed, “Yeah, you did.”

“Told you I could.”

“Mhm.”

“I think that calls for celebration. And also, an apology from you love. For doubting me.” You looked at him again to see him wiggling his eyebrows, one of those signature Murdoc smirks on his face.

“You’re gross.”

[skullsandwineglasses]

One and Only (2021) - Final Review

I don’t know how to feel about this drama. Incoming rant and spoilers. 

I expected it to end tragically since there’s a sequel of their modern incarnation, and the only way to make a drama about another lifetime worth watching is if this drama ends tragically in order to prompt audiences to want to watch a story in which the leads are given another chance. I thought I was prepared. 

But, I did not expect the ML’s death to be so sudden. He just dies, just like that. No buildup, no pretenses, no long speeches. Just a no non-sense, unglorified, undramatic, immediate death sentence. 

One thing that I will commend this drama is that it’s actually pretty realistic in terms of the consequences that characters faces (but not realistic in terms of being historically logical though). Important figures who are killed unfortunately stay dead and there’s is no deus ex machina-like plot reversal where it turns out the the character only faked their death and was actually alive all along, which is what happens in many dramas. The dowager empress actually killed her son. I half-expected the emperor to still be alive somehow, but no, he was actually killed by his mother. Good people aren’t immune to misfortune, and neither are main characters. Shencheng had his joints and nerves severed and actually died. He wasn’t killed in battle like you’d expect to happen to a skilled, experienced, and legendary general, but he died because he was tricked and forced to surrender to Jin Rong’s cheap schemes. His sentence was swift. Jin Rong and Zi Xing didn’t keep him alive for long because why would they? The faster that they kill Shencheng, the more safe and secure they’d feel with their stolen power, so they wasted no time in killing him. Needless to say, I was shocked. His death just didn’t feel fair. I also no longer had an interest in continuing the drama once Shencheng died. I’m writing this review as I let the rest of the drama play in the background in another tab. I signed up to watch this drama because I was promised some historical romance. I expected there to be angst. I wanted there to be angst, but not like this. Not when the ML is killed off with 2 episodes to go. 

I kept expected Shencheng to cheat death somehow because he’s the ML, but no, he’s actually killed at the beginning of episode 23. That’s almost 2 episodes before the end of the drama. While I applaud the drama for subverting expectations, I don’t like how all of a sudden Jin Rong now has control over everything when he was never even a main antagonist. The whole time while watching the plot play out I was just staring at the screen, utterly confused at what’s happening and how this is all happening. I just kept wondering how this is going to end. All the bad guys have control over everything, and our hero is dead, and Shi Yi is locked away in the palace. Shi Yi is a smart character, but she’s not a character who makes things happen or changes things. How is this going to be resolved? I get that his army is going to avenge him, but how could you just get rid of the audience’s emotional anchor? We only have the FL left, but as a more passive character, she’s not quite enough to carry the rest of the plot. (edit: I sympathize with Shi Yi’s decision at the end. It was also the last straw on the camel’s back that made me cry. Also, it’s clear that the drama isn’t concerned about historical accuracy or the politics. Jin Rong is killed, but nothing really gets resolved and it never feels like justice is served. Once Shi Yi dies, that’s basically the end of the story. The romantic tragedy is really all the drama cares about)

Bai Lu’s crying scenes really hurts to watch. You just wanna cry with her. I also like that she’s playing a more reserved character compared to the more outgoing roles that she’s known for, like Zhao Yao in The Legends and Xie Xiang in Arsenal Military Academy. 

I still can’t get over how suddenly Shencheng was killed. They intercut the scene with Shi Yi tossing and turning in her sleep, as though it’s all just her nightmare. So I was hoping that it wasn’t real. But it was. But even once I accepted that it actually happened, I was more shocked and mad than sad. Like, wtf??? They actually did that to him? Killed him off with 2 episodes to go?? It doens’t feel satisfying, and knowing that there’s a sequel with them in another lifetime takes away from the emotional impact that the writers intended this to have. 

Ugh I still can’t get over this. No one had a happy ending, not even the supporting characters. And then in the final montage the camera pans to Shi Yi’s name that Shencheng wrote in the dust in the abandoned palace. Their “secret” that’s forever immortalized in the dust but also simultaneously forever lost to time. 

I wish I had finished this a bit later so that I could binge Forever and Ever, but I guess I’ll just have to follow the drama as it airs. Looking forward to the first episode tomorrow. 

Some other notes:

-Shencheng’s blood letter. Probably as close as we got to getting a confession from him (”I’ve never let down/hurt anyone in this world, expect Shi Yi”). But still, these two never got to probably confess their feelings to each other. 

-Details that serve a bigger purpose later. Shencheng told Shi Yi that the monks would often check and change the water in the lily fountains to make sure that it wasn’t frozen so that the ducks could come and drink from them. A dozen episodes later, Shi Yi remembers this tidbit of information in order to piece together that something isn’t right about the palace and the current state of the court. 

-Speaking of things coming full circle, Shi Yi becomes mute again because of the shock she undergoes. 

[rain-bow-donkey]

Catch and Release: Ch 17

Inspired by @starsfic work "Demon Customs."

Previous Chapter

Summary:

Wukong camps out in his room.

—————————

Wukong feels disoriented from the nightmare he just woke up from.

It took a moment for Wukong to even realize he wasn’t in the peach tree anymore. No, looks like he was back in his room. Tucked in his bed. Without his armor on.

A quick scan confirmed that his armor wasn’t even in the room either.

The king can assume that Macaque was the one to blame for his armors disappearance and for his relocation from the garden. Not unless there’s anyone else in this prison with them.

Which there isn’t. Sadly it’s just Macaque and Wukong here.

Alone.

Together.

Ugh. Rolling over to plant his face into the lush pillows, Wukong groaned. Stressed out because he was trapped with seemingly no escape. Now add in the the stress from the nightmare he just woke up from.

Wukong can still hear MK’s screams -

Wait, MK!

Springing his head up, Wukong had an idea. He may not be able to escape on his own, but he can still contact MK! The king had lost a large portion of his strength but from what Wukong can tell, he may still be able to use his powers to some extent. He was able to use his cloud after all. So seeing if he can use his astral projection was worth a shot.

Moving to sit in a mediation position, Wukong focused on his connection with MK.

It should have been easier. The kid has his powers for crying out loud. Wukong should have been able to connect their minds no problem. But it was a struggle to even sense MK.

When the Great Sage finally found him the connection felt weak. MK’s usually power signature was no longer bright. Now it felt far more weaker and dim.

That wasn’t a good sign. Maybe the kid didn’t make it out of the Spider Queens fight alright? Or maybe Wukong really was that weakened?

Well, there’s only one way to find out.

Hounding his focus on MK, Wukong tried to strengthen their connection. As soon as he had done so, the ring on his finger started glowing. Sensing Wukong as he tried to use his powers. And the damn piece of metal sent itself to work reducing it.

Looks like Wukong needs to hurry this call up before he loses his grip entirely. He can feel his powers being drained by the minute.

MK’s golden silhouette appeared before him. Fading in and out as Wukong struggled to keep their connection.

“Kid, Kid. Can you hear me?”

“Monkey King?!” MK’s silhouette spun around to find his teacher. It finally seemed to spot him on the bed. “Monkey King! You’re ok!”

Smirking softly, the king was relieved that his successor seemed fine at least. “Of course I’m ok kiddo. I’m surprised that you made it out of that whole spider fiasco alright.”

“Oh, yeah. We beat the Spider Queen no problem with the Demon Bull King there to help us!” The silhouette jumped into the air while seemingly punching it in excitement. MK stopped mid celebration to look at his master with concern. “Uh, Monkey King, are you ok? I mean, where are you even?”

Dropping his smirk, the king looked solemn all of the sudden. “I’m in a bit of trouble here kid.”

Wukong spent the last few minutes explaining the situation with MK. How Macaque got the drop on him when the king tried to make his escape from the Spider Queen. And is now being held captive by Macaque at some unknown location.

“Don’t worry Monkey King, we’ll find you, break you out of there, and teach that shadowy faker a lesson!” MK was mad. Looks like the kid still holds a grudge against Macaque. And now that grudge is being fueled by the anger his student felt on Wukongs behalf.

“Thanks kid. But you got bigger problems to worry about.” Damn, Wukongs starting to lose his grip on his connection. He needs to finish this up quickly. “I think Macaque is working with the Spider Queen and the White Bone Spirit. I saw the bone demon at the Spider Queens lair right before Macaque ambushed me.”

“Then we’ll teach them a lesson too by taking them down!” MK was pumped and ready to go toe to toe with the Spider Queen again. Especially if it meant he can save his master from Macaque’s clutches.

“Just be safe kid. And don’t worry about me. I can handle Macaque.” The connection was growing weaker. MK’s silhouette was fading faster now. “And be vigilant with the White Bone Spirit! That one is the worst out of all of them.”

Before MK could reply back, the connection finally went out. The silhouette of his successor disappeared completely. Leaving Wukong in his room alone.

[hillchill]

ACS S03E04 here we go 🙄

ML:”I really like working in the executive branch” (me: you really like working up the executive branch!)

ML saying right to Linda’s face that no one wants her (Linda) back at the WH, yay, finally

A list named “Bill and Hillary’s body count” makes an appearance… like what?!?! I thought we weren’t into conspiracies with this one

Yep, Monica, he’s busy and doesn’t want you around the WH… didn’t he dump you the last time you talked, though?

Yeah, Linda, everything you do is out of concern for ML…

Also, the relationship lasted two years on and off. I’d say, if Corona has taught us anything, it’s that two years can seem like nothing when caught in bigger scheme (see: re-election)

ML:“Everything he gets me is so ugly!” LMAOOOO that’s a burn

ML insisting to see Bill when he’s spending time with Chelsea? How about NOPE?!?!

Yeah, girl, you’re obsessed, just give him up, why are you even like this

Yeah, Linda, we all thought MLwould have her tabloid moment and then move on, but partially she got caught in the impeachment shenanigans, partially she later tried to capitalize on that and always clung to what happened, instead of disassociating herself from that image, so we’re still talking about it 25 years after the fact. Uff.

Tripp about ML: “She’s no victim”…. Till now, Linda

Urgh ML mentions WJC called for her to come to see him on his wedding anniversary. That’s ugh… I still ask myself what was going on at the time, it’s so unnerving we’ll never get to hear the whole detailed truth about how things went down in WJC’s brain, because I really cannot understand him (is it because I don’t have a penis? Maybe)

They do mention the crutches, even thou they never showed them

Well, Goldberg has a poster of “Atlas Shrugged”, just to underline where her political thought stands

Ok, do the writers have a strange fascination with this crutches oral sex thing? Because that’s the second time it’s mentioned and the image it depicts is particularly… explicit? Idk

“She orgasms, he doesn’t like to”, I kinda wished they stressed more that he only came twice, like, how is that a power move lmao…. also, does he have kinda like a denial kink or is it because he felt guilty about the affair and so not coming made it “less real/less of a betrayal”? Also? ML do you come from giving him a blowie? Damn you really are a submissive 😅 that’s weird, I hope at least she touched herself, because otherwise that’s some denialist thing she enjoys, which kinda would explain why she stayed this long in all  the drama

“It’s not sexual harassment” “There’s no quid pro quo” I AGREE!!! I TOTALLY AGREE! Not an abuse of power, not a crime! She even got a higher pay, damn, girl sto whining about not working in the west wing anymore!

WJC to ML after she called Bettie Currie in a crazed crying tirade: “Who the hell do you think you are?” (…) “some fucking 24 year old” YES; EXACTLY; TELL HER! (But also, put it in your pants, Bill, because that damned pound of flesh has more power over you than Congress and Senate combined)

WJC:”If I had known this was who you were, I’d never gotten involved with you” Biiiittch, you unzipped at the sight of a fucking thong, man! You didn’t show much judgement, neither you really tried to understand if the girl was stalkers or not, don’t try to be all high and mighty now!

All said, it’s preoccupying that one of the most powerful world leaders has to spend part of the day trying to find this cray girl a job, like he kinda says here.

WJC kinda hinting they’ll spend time together in NY after he’s out of office… ugh

Idk if Vernon Jordan slapping ML’s ass implies some kind of guilt by association since he’s in WJC’s close circle and that move was definitely out of bounds (like, does it reflect badly on WJC too or is it more of a “all powerful men are the same” thing?)

ML says she thinks WJC is having other affair(s) with “Debbie the stewardess” and… Barbara Streisand (that’s an old rumor). Urgh

Monica, girl, you are obsessed, bordering on stalkerish

Monica, damn, you’re fucking choosy. Get the fucking job

Ok, Linda says the same

Oh, that infamous one about getting together when he’s out of office… I feel grimy just hearing it

Oh, finally, Linda fucking snapped!! ML was really getting annoying and kinda choosy/entitled, though it’s true she treated Betty like shit

Linda you’re faaaake, you’re just reconciliating for the gossip

“This blue dress is really *really* dirty” ugh, I need brain bleach.

Aaaaaargh “…He was so excited to see me that he… you know… finished” pls wipe my brain right now, why does it seem like she’s describing WJC’s dong as an overexcitable dog?

As far as I know, ML didn’t think it was guacamole, she thought it was spinach dip. Was guacamole popular in the 90s? Did white people even eat it?

Still, they skirt around the relationship she had with the teacher (drama tech guy?), but don’t address the guy at the pentagon. Plus wasn’t the teacher married as well?

I can empathize with people always liking your friends, but never you, Monica, but that isn’t cause to get with WJC. Also, how did she get all that confidence  (thong showing etc) if she was always the second choice? Like, I think she either had quite a lot o cheekiness in her or she knew that if she showed guys she was sexually available they wouldn’t pass over the chance, even if she wasn’t their dream girl.

Ok, yeah, now she says the guy already had sex with one of the students so… kinda confirms the theory

“I fell completely *obsessively* in love with him”

Urgh Monica made friends with the wife of teacher guy, so it could be easier for the guy to have her around. And he had a kid at this point. Bleagh. Both for the guy (mostly) but also Monica just say no to pieces of shit like these

Ok, poor girl was raped ad 14? Didn’t know that, still doesn’t change her behavior in later years though.

Monica has less self respect than I do when it comes to guys and low self esteem, still manages to date more than I do… fuck my life I guess 😅

Tripp: “Paula Jones, could she help me?”Goldberg: “with what? Dating within your blood line?” Lmaoooooooooo they don’t mince words about her, do they?!?!

Still no Hillary, but giving how this ended, she’s probably gonna be in the next episode and I dread her portrayal by Edie Falco, I have bad bad feelings about this.

All in all, can I say kinda boring? They probably could have condensed these four episodes into two, three at most and probably the series could have been 6 episodes long, I believe. We’ll see how it goes.

[greekbros]

"greek-Bros: Phallic Judgement"

*Surprisingly, Dionysus had gone back to Rome to cause more mischief with Hermes, this time they've brought Ares along*

Dionysus: *again disguised as a wine seller* ok gentlemen, behold. The foulest creatures to crawl on the face of the earth. *Shows just random Roman citizens*

Ares: *who for some reason decided he wanted to disguise himself as the world's most intimidating slave* ......ugh....the goats? *Sees a goat*

Hermes: *cleverly disgusted as farmer* haha no. You see, these guys are absolutely weird. They insist of "rationing" Sapa, they have taxes for literally existing and above all.....their wine is watered down! But they have the best bread I've ever tasted though.

Ares: ... really?

Dionysus: don't be fooled by their baked goods my dudes. These are cruel and unrelenting scum folk. Uncultured, ignorant, and above all....they've inslaved every single country they've conquered.

Hermes: .....it's mostly about the wine isn't it?

Dionysus: ....*turns dramatically* their most unforgiving sin.

Ares: *has wondered off to see a statue of himself*.....my dick isn't THAT small.......*looks at the name plate saying "Mars"* ......I can't believe these guys misspelled my name....*takes some charcoal, scratches out Mars and writes Ares*

Centurion Gaurd: Excuse me slave! Where is your master! Slaves are not allowed near the devine statue of the gods.*sees that Ares has wrote his name on the statue's nameplate* What the?

Ares: *doesn't know the centurion was referring to him considering he's in disguise* .........*turns to the see the back of the statue* ....at least they got the ass right.

Centurion Gaurd: EXCUSE ME! Please stop making remarks about the sacred statue! You've defaced sacred property!

Ares: *slowly peaks over to the centurion* ....hey ugh there's a thing on your helmet*

Centurion Gaurd: oh really? *Pats around his helmet* where?

Ares: *points to the centurion's face* There's a shit attitude a little all over your FuCkInG ugly mug.

Centurion Gaurd: *realising what he meant* YOU'RE UNDER ARREST!

Dionysus: *walks into the situation* Oh there you are Skippy! Bad boy I thought I told you to stay close to me and not open your mouth! *takes a little stick and weakly whips Ares's shoulder with a single thing of wheat*

Ares: *confused* ...wut?

Centurion Gaurd: Is there YOUR disrespectful slave?

Ares: wait you said I was going to be a noblem-*gets a loaf of bread in his mouth by Hermes*

Hermes: please shut up or we'll leave you here to fend for yourself.

Ares: *kinda just enjoying the bread* hmfhmf.

Dionysus: You see my good sir, my slave is extremely stupid, dumb and has testicles the size of grapeseeds. He was used as a human kickball when he was an infant and was raised by goats. He can't help himself sometimes. *Tries to clean the charcoal off the statue*

Ares: *angry noises* ?!?

Centurion Gaurd: .....Ok...you have the pay the "Disrespectful Slave" tax fine.

Dionysus: .....*grumbles and takes a bag filled with gold coins* ....*gives it begrudgingly* .....*grits his teeth* have....a...good day.

Centurion Gaurd: *takes the gold and sees that it's drachma* .....hmm.....*takes out a piece of paper with a semi-crude wanted poster of Dionysus, Apollo and Hermes* ......hmm.....I watching you....sir. *leaves to find Mortus*

Dionysus: *turns to Ares and glares at him* ....you owe me 20 drachma.

Ares: *has finished eat the bread* Why? Don't these mortals know we're gods?

Dionysus: No! We're here in disguise so that was can destroy the city again. You are here to make sure the country doesn't get a chance to get back up.

Ares: Fuck yah. *Literally has no idea what he agreed to*

Hermes: *saw the wanted poster in the centurion's hand* ugh...guys we REALLY need to finish what we came here for because they're definitely on to us.

Dionysus: yeah yeah I know....come on let's go. I want to destroy the coliseum again.

Ares: what's a coliseum?

Dionysus: *suddenly a huge grin forms across his face* Hermes .....is the coliseum....open?

Hermes: let me check. *Literally speeds next to the coliseum and saw a Roman sign that says "Grand Re-Opening" and zips back to Dionysus* yeah. It's open.

Dionysus: perfect. *Pops a waterskin filled with wine, and chugs it* oh gods I'm FuCkInG dry. It's like this place sucks your very essence or something.

Hermes: hmm....yeah, shame really. *as he was following Dionysus and Ares, he accidentally dumbs into a familiar face* oops sorry miss.

Octavia: *turns around with a baby in her arms that looks suspiciously familiar* Oh pardon me sir. I didn't mean to bump into, the market seems rather busy today doesn't it?

Hermes: It's ok, I was just heading to-*knotices the baby* .....ugh...

Caius the baby: *smiles at Hermes as if he knew Hermes was his dad* ba-ba :D

Octavia: Oh sweetie, daddy is working. Oh children are so wonderous, even at a few months old, they have such an imagination. By the way, have we met before? You look so familiar....are you from the countryside?

Hermes: uuggggh *trying his best to not look Octavia in the eye* yeah, I get that all the time. Trust me I have some of my own, I mean children that is. Also no I don't think I have? *Literally hoping she doesn't recognize him even though he shape shifted into her husband a year ago*

Caius: *still happily cooing over his real dad*

Dionysus: come on buddy le-*put two and two together and scowls at Hermes* ......you didn't.

Hermes: ugh....

Dionysus: nevermind we're off! *He pulls Hermes to the direction of the coliseum*

Octavia: hmmm what a strange young man. He's handsome though.

Caius: *coos in disappointment* :(

*later*

Dionysus: *rubs his hands* hehehehehe....

Hermes: this better be worth it. I thought we would write our names on the temple walls here or something.

A Roman Announcer: Ladies and Gentlemen! This grand reopening of the Coliseum shall be in honor of our Lord and Emperor Caeser!

Caeser: *does the Royal British wave*

Dionysus: peeeeerfect.

Hermes: ......hey I got to ask...why did you bring Ares?

Dionysus: some bulky bastard is currently the head champion gladiator here, he use to live on Crete before the Romans decided to kidnap a few warriors there....let's just say my pettiness will come with effort.

Hermes: ......ok seriously man what are talking about?

Dionysus: look no one says that their dick is bigger than mine and actually gets away with it.

Hermes: ....you know....you could just smite someone. I mean it's not graceful....but it's effective.

Dionysus: hoho, I'm going to make this extra dramatic.

The Roman Announcer: And now! You're great champion, Maximus the Well-Endowed!

Maximus: *a huge, hulking man came out, roars out* HAIL CAESAR! *Leans to the announcer* I am going to get my 20 hot virgin women after this right?

Announcer: *whispers* yes yes. AND HIS CHALLENGER *looks at a note which was scribbled on his hand* ..... "Skippy the Not-Well-Endowed"! *Looks back his hand still not believing what he had read*

Ares: *is just happy to get into a fight, however was oddly enough only was only wearing a loin cloth and a helmet, armed with a shield and spear* ......oh boy, a whole stadium just for killing? These people rock!

Hermes: ........you didn't....

Dionysus: yep.

Ares: *steps side to side like an exited kid* comeoncomeoncomeonstartthefighting.

Maximus: Alright Skippy, time to end your tiny dicked existence. *Raised his sword on to Ares but Ares was able to break it with his helmet* !?

Ares: ....that's it?

Maximum: *confused* ugh....*waves to order in more weapons, all of which fail to hurt Ares*

Ares: .......aw come on...you guys have some shitty ass weapons. Bet YOUR weapon is just as shit.

Maximus: grrrrr.....YOU PUNY SLAVE! *Rips off his armored skirt* See! You're fucking wrong!

Roman crowd: *gasps*

Dionysus: .....

Hermes: *whistles* holyshit....dude this guy is hung.

Dionysus: If there's one god who can contest me....the only god who's dick is so epic, so powerful, so irresistible, so near perfect......that Aphrodite can't FuCkInG resist it on a daily basis.

Hermes: Heracles?

Dionysus: No buddy, Ares. Ares is the guy who's dick is better than mine I mean come on a guy who shags the goddess of love more times than any living thing HAS to have something going on down there

Some Roman Karen: EXCUSE me is pronounced Venus! We don't use greek words here.

Dionysus: Please leave me alone lady.

Some Roman Karen: *rhees in anger*

Dionysus and Hermes: *both are struggling to ignore her*

Ares: ....ok...that dick of your isn't that great.....*rips off his loin cloth* .....THIS....is a dick.

Crowd: *the women and gay men swoons over the perfect of Ares's bare body, men quake and cringe at their own feeble members and put to shame*

Caesar: *completely unimpressed and decided to leave* hmf. Pathetic.

Maximus: *wriggles in shame* HOW c-C-C-could this be?! The most PERFECT COCK? Oh my gods why is it fucking glowing?!

Ares: ....what you don't shave yourself weekly? I mean come on man that's how you keep the ladies coming back?

Maximus: *starts crying a little*

Dionysus: *cackling uncontrollably* SO THATS HIS SECRET! *writes on a piece of paper saying "shave, dick, weekly"*

Hermes: *still not fully understanding why all of this* ........you brought Ares here JUST to emasculate some gladiator?

Dionysus: Oh much more than that Herms.....much much m-

Roman Karen: EXCUSE YOU SIR ITS MERCURY!

Dionysus: *has had enough and turned her into a chicken* there much better.

Hermes: .....are you ok? Did you have your wine today?

Dionysus: I RAN OUT OF WINE LONG AGO!

Hermes: *deep sigh* not again.

Ares: *now in full naked display* ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!? *The crowd roared and cheered*

Dionysus: well....yah want to set the animals free from their cages?

Hermes: fuk ye-*feels a tough and strong hand practically crushing his shoulder* .....*turns to see an old man who clearly was Zeus* .....

Zeus: .....boys.....

Dionysus and Hermes: .....Uh Oh.

Zeus: *took each of them by their ears like a discontented mother* you're BOTH grounded for bothering these mortals and above all abusing the dark, unholy power of the sacred male member ....if I had a third arm it would be reserved for Ares. *Looks down at Ares now just doing some naked dance for the crowd*........*deep and disappointed sigh*

Dionysus: but dad, I do that like everyday.

Zeus: I don't care if I don't discipline you or Hermes right the now, Hera will have MY male member nailed to the wall.

(Later that day)

Mortus: *inner noir detective monologue* after several months, nothing. Absolutely nothing. The suspects disappeared from the face of the empire. Likely their crimes have caught up with them. My only consolation to solving this case....is the mysterious birth of my son and my faithful wife. .... speaking of which...why does Caius have blue eyes? Me and Octavia have brown.....did ...she?....nah that's impossible.

The Centurion from earlier: MY LORD! I FOUND THE SUSPECTS!

Mortus: *dramatically turns around* This better be the right ones this time.

*much later after apparently an orgy broke out at the coliseum*

Mortus: .... Absolutely disgusting. Practicing Sexual Festivities without a license is punishable by crucifixion, Mark.

The Announcer (Mark): B-b-but sir! It wasn't my fault! Some slave was to challenge Maximus and they just decided to remove their clothing and everyone went wild! ....to be fair the slave did look a little attractive BUT the fornicating ceased once the slave disappeared.

Mortus:....was he accompanied by a portly, dark haired ..... individual?......an extremely attractive blonde slave and a thinner more athletic young man with brown hair?

The Announcer: ...hmm...well yes minus the other slave.

Mortus: Hmmm.....the plot thickens.....are these the mysterious criminals that destroyed the coliseum last year?....What is the motivated behind these depraved individuals?.....

The Announcer: ugh...why are you talking to yourself?

[orangeoctopi7]

A Negligible Price

I guess it’s becoming a tradition for me to add another chapter to A Minor Inconvenience every year for @stanuary . I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. It’s just that the prompt “Sacrifice” got me thinking about this story and where I thought it could go, and then I got writing and I started coming up with ideas for how I could actually put a finish to this story. So yeah, hopefully it won’t be another year before I post chapter 4, but not promises!

Also, first time I’ve had to do this, but:

CONTENT WARNING: DISCUSSION OF SUICIDE/MARTYR COMPLEX AND SUIDICE ADJACENT THEMES.

* * *

Bill rushes to gather himself together again. Now that Sixer and his idiot brother have caught on, he knows they’ll probably be making a move against him soon. The time for lying in wait and keeping a low profile has passed. He’s been getting faster, better at finding the tiny flecks of gold scattered into the dark abyss below. 

Unfortunately that also means that he’s noticed that some missing pieces just never turn up. As an interdimensional being who’s existed in countless dimensions across innumerable timelines, Bill likes to think he knows himself pretty well now. What he’s made of, how much power he’s accumulated, what he’s capable of. And if he had to estimate now, which he does, he’d say he’s been reduced to maybe a third of his power. Roughly two thirds of him are missing. 

What happened to those missing pieces? Were they simply deleted by that memory eraser? Did he leave some of himself behind in that physical form he left to enter Stan’s mind in the Fearamid? Bill can only guess, but really, in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter. What matters is getting out of this moron’s brain and starting again on his path to a universe free of rules.

* * *

Stan recovered from his latest memory lapse quickly, despite the fact that it was the worst one he’d experienced since he sacrificed himself to the memory gun last summer. The experience had clearly put Ford on edge, and as much as he tried to bottle up his emotions and remain calm, Stan could practically feel the panic coming off him in waves. 

They were both relieved when they reached Spitsbergen. There was a hospital in Longyearbyen, where Ford insisted they stop to give Stan a check-up. Stan felt fine, but if it helped ease Ford’s nerves, then he could sit through a check-up.

Explaining Stan’s condition to the doctor was a struggle, considering English was not his strongest language. They definitely got across that Stan was experiencing memory problems, but the doctor seemed to be under the impression it had been caused by an injury to the head in an accident, rather than a purposeful exposure to a memory-erasing device. 

Eventually, Ford had lost his patience and just asked if they could use the CT or MRI machine themselves. The doctor spoke enough English to tell them that the nearest CT or MRI machine was in either Iceland or Russia.

The elder Pines twins left the hospital in low spirits. Ford kicked at little pebbles as they walked down the street.

“There’s a research facility in Ny-Ålesund. Perhaps we could sail up there and commandeer some equipment to rig up our own CT scan…”

“I think it’d be easier to just hop on a plane back to the States at this point.” Stan suggested.

“If we’re going to hop on a plane somewhere, it’ll be to Reykjavik, where we won’t have to pay an arm and a leg for any treatments.”

“Yeah, we’ll just have to wait half a year.” Stan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think they’re gonna take ‘revived demon in my head’ as an urgent need.”

“Probably not…” Ford admitted.

“And you’re sure you didn’t figure anything else out the last time you were pokin’ around in my head?”

Ford grit his teeth. The truth was, he was afraid what would happen if he tried to revisit that memory. The cold flames of the memory eraser had felt so real, even just revisiting it in Stan’s mind, and they seemed to be the trigger of his latest memory lapse. Would they have a similar effect within Ford’s own memory?

“Nothing I’ve been able to make sense of.”

Stan grit his teeth. “So what now? Just leave that jerk in my head?”

Ford sighed. “I want to do some more research into what we’ve learned so far. Perhaps a trip to the library will help me find some insight. But truthfully… I may have been too hasty with punching out Bill, when I encountered him. He’s a liar who can’t be trusted, but he’s also a braggart. If I’d just let him run his mouth a little longer, we may have learned something about what he’s up to.”

* * *

Longyearbyen’s library wasn’t any bigger than the public library in Gravity Falls, and had significantly fewer books relating to Bill and mind magic, but it did at least have access to several library databases that Ford couldn’t typically log into from the Stan’O’War II. (According to Fiddleford, these databases could be hacked into quite easily, but Ford didn’t have the time or the wherewithal to learn how) It would have to do for now. Ford took a seat at a computer, and with a little help from a librarian, he was soon scrolling through peer-reviewed articles from different archeologists and anthropologists and folklore experts and descendants of the Aztecs and Mayans debating who Xolotl was, what his role was in the Aztec religion, how much his lore changed from Pre- and Post- Colombian invasion, and so forth. 

What he’d learned so far was interesting, to say the least. The things that most people agreed upon was that Xolotl was a god of death, fire, and lightning. What caught Ford’s attention was the fact that they were also the god of twins and deformities. He glanced down at his twelve fingers, which rested awkwardly on the small keyboard meant for people with just ten. It seemed odd that Bill would call on this particular death god, when they seemed far more likely to be a patron to Stan and Ford. 

While Ford puzzled over this new information, Stan browsed the library, looking for something to entertain himself while he waited. Unsurprisingly, there weren’t a whole lot of English books in this Norwegian library. Luckily, it wasn’t long before he stumbled upon an extensive comics section. Even though he still couldn’t read most of them, the pictures were at least enough that he got the gist of what was going on.

 European comics were very different from American comics. They featured a lot less costumed superheroes punching bad guys and a lot more weird, quirky characters setting out on adventures and exploring the world. They also seemed to lean more heavily on comedy rather than drama. Stan decided he liked them.

He’d been looking at a story about some rich duck when he noticed he felt odd. He didn’t know how else to explain it other than to say that his brain felt itchy. The more he concentrated on it, the more it faded away, but when he went back to looking at the comic and got absorbed back into the story, it came back.

After almost an hour of the feeling coming and going, Stan decided he was not imagining the sensation. He stuffed a tissue into the comic as a bookmark and got up to see what Ford would have to say about it. Almost as soon as he laid eyes on his brother, a wave of anger washed over him. Just like the itchy brain feeling, it went away almost as soon as he stopped and thought about it, but it had been so strong, that he couldn’t deny it had happened.

“Hey.” Stan tapped his brother on the shoulder as the old researcher skimmed an article about why the Aztecs associated lightning with twins.

“Hmm?” Ford acknowledged him without looking away from the screen.

“Am I forgettin’ to be mad at you about somethin’?”

That got Ford to turn and look at him. “Are you having a memory lapse!?”

“I don’t think so, but just a second ago I looked over at you and I felt really mad all of a sudden. Can’t really think of a reason why, though. I’m just wondering if maybe the other day, when I had the big blank-out, maybe we missed somethin’?”

The old researcher’s face contorted with guilt. “You have ample reason to be mad at me. I didn’t stand up for you when dad kicked you out. I never reached out to you for over ten years. I expected you to drop everything and help me with my problems without any explanation. I refused to thank you for saving my life--”

“Yeah, no, none of that stuff.” Stan shook his head. “I remember all that stuff, and I’ve already forgiven you and junk. Mmmm… did you try to enchant the mop again and not let me remember it?” But even as he joked that the underlying reason must be the latest chapter in a minor argument, he knew that couldn’t be right. The sudden bloom of anger had been much more deep-seated and horrible than that. It had felt like… it had felt like Ford had ruined everything. 

To be fair, there had been a long period of Stan’s life when he had felt like Ford had ruined everything. But Stan was over that now, and this brief brush with anger had felt even more heated than that.

Ford gave him an appraising look. “Were there any other memories or emotions associated with this feeling?”

“Oh yeah, my brain was feelin’ itchy right before that.”

“Have… you been using shampoo?” Ford asked, unsure of what to do with this information.

“Not my scalp, genius, like the actual thinking part of my brain!”

“... I can’t even begin to guess what that means.”

“Ugh, I don’t know how else to describe it, ok? It’s like somethin’ was squirmin’ around in my mind!”

The brothers wore twin expressions of realization as the words left Stan’s mouth. 

“We need to get back to the boat.” Ford stood from the computer desk abruptly.

“Yep.” Stan set the comic he’d been reading down on the desk, not even bothering to remove his improvised bookmark. 

* * *

Bill throws his hands up and roars in frustration. He can’t seem to take control, even when the moron’s mind is zoning out, losing himself in some stupid comic book. He’s already in the mind! He’s been here for months! He knows his way around here. So why isn’t it working? Is it because he never made a deal with this guy? That shouldn’t matter! The last thing they did before the whole memory gun thing was shake hands! 

There's no time to waste complaining, though. Sixer will be poking around here any minute. Bill needs a plan. Before, he'd spent millions of years in the Nightmare Realm planning. Now he's making everything up as he goes.

It's clear that Bill can't just take control of Stan like he'd been counting on. But do the other two know that? He might still be able to use that to his advantage.

If Bill is going to trick these losers and get out of here, he needs to play his opponents right. Luckily, he's got years of experience fighting against Sixer. It's the Big Mackerel that he worries about. 

Before, Bill hadn't paid much attention to Stan. He thought he understood what made the simple con man tick. But then, in the end, he found he didn't understand at all. Even after months of being trapped in his mindscape, Stan is very much still a mystery to Bill.

But there is one thing about Stan that Bill does understand.

He’s willing to sacrifice himself for his family.

* * *

Once they were back aboard the Stan’O’War II, Stan allowed himself to relax, just a little. At least here his surroundings were familiar, and the only person he had to worry about was his own brother.

Under normal circumstances, “the only person he had to worry about” meant he didn’t have to look over his shoulder for law enforcement or old criminals who might recognize Stan from his drifter days. 

Today “the only person he had to worry about” meant the only person he could possibly endanger if Bill was able to take control of him. Ford was the last person Stan wanted to put in danger, but he also had to admit, his brother knew more about the demon than any other living being on the planet. 

Stan may have been able to relax a tiny fraction once they were back aboard their boat, but not Ford. Ford was in full-blown panic mode.

He frantically searched around the storage room for something, anything, that could help protect his brother from Bill. Unfortunately, they hadn’t thought to bring unicorn hair or moonstones on their voyage. He did have titanium, but he wasn’t confident enough in his emergency medical knowledge to perform cranial surgery on his own, and he doubted they’d be able to find a doctor crooked enough to do it for them. Currently, his best idea was to build an updated version of Project Mentem, but that would take time. Time he wasn’t sure Stan had.

“I can re-enter your mindscape and shatter him again.” Ford decided, pulling out the candles again. “That should at least buy you a few days.”

“Ok.” Stan nodded. He’d definitely prefer to know Bill was shattered again, and not moving around in his brain. “But it’s not like he’s doing anything right now.”

“He’s probably trying to get us to lower our guard.” Ford assumed. “I’ll need to tie you up. He usually makes his move while his victim is asleep.”

“If I need to fall asleep for your spell while tied up, we’re gonna be waitin’ a long time.” Stan warned. “I dunno if I could even fall asleep right now if I had the world’s most comfortable bed.”

“Fair point.” Ford nodded. “I may have to drug you.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” It was abundantly clear that Ford was not kidding in the slightest.

“Would you rather be used as his puppet!?” The old researcher shouted. The outburst rang in the air for a few seconds while Ford tried to steady his breathing. “Stan I… I’m sorry, I just--”

“It’s ok.” Stan pulled him into a hug and tried his best to calm his brother down. “I know you’re just scared.”

“I’m not scared for myself.” Ford explained in a small voice. “I’m scared for you. Waking up to find that you’ve hurt someone, it’s-- I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all you--”

“Stanford, look at me. We’re not gonna let that happen. What if we do it while I’m awake, like we did with the memory before?”

Ford nodded meekly. “That… that could work.”

“You can still tie me up if that makes you feel better.”

The old researcher bit his lip. “...It shouldn't be necessary...”

“Ford.”

“...But it probably would ease some of my fears, yes.” he admitted.

“That’s what I thought. I’ll go get the rope.”

Still unwilling to let his brother out of his sight, Ford followed Stan up to the deck while he retrieved said rope. Once they were back below deck, he wrapped Stan tightly in a large blanket before sitting him down on a chair and tying him up, to ensure he was as comfortable as possible while still restricting his movement.

“How do you feel?” Ford asked as he lit the candles.

“Like I’m about to be shipped back to Oregon in the mail.”

“And Bill…?”

“I haven’t felt anything else from him since we left the library.”

The lack of activity should have reassured Ford, but instead it just added to his general unease. At least he was able to compose himself enough to perform the incantation.

Just as last time, after a flash of light, he found himself on the deck of Stan’s mindscape, with Stan himself standing beside him. This time, though, Bill was floating there, waiting for them.

“I KNEW YOU’D BE BACK HERE AFTER I GOT YOUR ATTENTION IN THE LIBRARY!” The demon taunted. “OH, AND LOOK. STANO HERE EVEN MADE A MENTAL CONSTRUCT OF HIMSELF WITHIN HIS OWN MIND JUST SO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE TO FACE ME ALONE! HOW CUTE!” He prodded Stan in the stomach like he was the Pillsbury Doughboy.

“Back off, bucko!” Stan threatened. “We’re here to break your whole face!”

“WHAT, YOU COULDN’T WAIT UNTIL TONIGHT TO DO IT IN YOUR DREAMS LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO?” Bill asked, voice dripping with false innocence. 

“We’re not able to risk the chance of you parading about in Stanley’s body.” Ford growled.

“HA! YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN ANYONE, FORDSY, I ONLY DO THAT TO STUBBORN KNOW-IT-ALLS WHO WON’T WORK WITH ME WILLINGLY.”

“If you think I’m gonna work with you willingly, then you’re an even bigger idiot than I thought.” Stan grunted.

“HEAR ME OUT, MAC! WE BOTH WANT THE SAME THING HERE! ME, OUT OF YOUR SAD PATHETIC MIND!”

“You can’t leave!?” Ford asked in surprise.

“WHAT, YOU THINK I ENJOY SPENDING TIME IN THIS BOZO’S MIND? YOU THINK I WAS PLOTTING MY REVENGE?”

“Honestly, yes.”

Bill gave a long, mocking laugh. “AHAHAHAHAHA! YOU REALLY THINK I CARE ABOUT A COUPLE OF INSIGNIFICANT FLESH SACKS LIKE YOU?”

“We’re the insignificant flesh sacks who killed you!” Stan reminded him.

“WELL, YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY. THE BEST REVENGE IS LIVING WELL.”

The brothers exchanged a suspicious glance. They highly doubted Bill actually believed that adage.

“BUT I CAN’T EXACTLY LIVE WELL TRAPPED IN YOUR MINDSCAPE. I MIGHT GET BORED AND DECIDE THE BEST REVENGE IS KILLING YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY WITH YOUR OWN HANDS.”

Ah yes, that was more along the lines of what they expected from Bill.

“So you’re saying you’ll just let bygones be bygones if I cooperate with you?” Stan asked skeptically. 

“WE’LL GO OUR SEPARATE WAYS, NEVER TO MEET AGAIN!”

“And what are you planning on doing once you’re free?” Ford asked coldly.

“NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, SIXER.” The demon waved him off. “NOW ARE YOU GONNA HELP ME OUT OF HERE OR NOT? THE SOONER THE BETTER. YOU TWO AREN’T GETTING ANY FURTHER AWAY FROM THE AVERAGE LIFE EXPECTANCY OF A HUMAN MALE, AND FISH FACE HERE DOESN'T EXACTLY TAKE GOOD CARE OF HIS BODY.”

“Hey!” Stan shouted indignantly.

“Why should Stan’s life expectancy factor into this?” Ford asked.

“HMMM? OH, NO REASON.” Bill said evasively. “I’M JUST, Y’KNOW, IN A HURRY.”

“You’re an immortal, extradimensional being. You’ve been trying to find a way out of the nightmare realm since before multicellular life developed on this planet. If you’re so sure we’re close to the end of our lives, why not wait until we’re out of the way? You must realize we’ll try and stop you from starting Weirdmaggedon again!” Ford reasoned.

“WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT STARTING WEIRDMAGGEDON AGAIN?” Bill denied. “AND MAYBE AFTER A BILLION YEARS, I’M TIRED OF WAITING!”

“Unless you aren’t immortal any more.” the old researcher concluded.

“YOU’VE SEEN FOR YOURSELF, FORDSY, EVERY TIME YOU OR YOUR IDIOT BROTHER SHATTER ME, I PULL MYSELF BACK TOGETHER.”

“Immortal in the mind, perhaps. But what happens when the mind you’re occupying finally dies?”

“ALRIGHT, YOU FIGURED IT OUT!” Bill sneered. “I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN A GENIUS LIKE YOU WOULD. YEAH, MY LIFE’S TIED TO THE BIG MACKEREL’S NOW. SO WHAT? YOU GONNA KILL YOUR BROTHER JUST TO GET RID OF ME?”

“Of course not!” Ford barked.

“Hey, I’d be more than happy to take you down with me if it meant making sure you never hurt anyone else ever again!” Stan challenged the demon.

Ford stared at his brother with wide eyes. “Stanley, no!”

“Hey, relax, I’m not talkin’ suicide or anything.” Stan assured him. “But he’s right about one thing. I’m not gonna live forever.”

I’ll only do it if I have to. A stray thought cawed overhead.

Stan cussed under his breath as Ford gaped at him with a mix of alarm and pity.

“I’m not gonna take it back.” Stan insisted after a moment. “If that’s what it comes down to, to keep him from hurtin’ you or the kids, then I’m taking him down with me.”

Ford placed his hands firmly on Stan’s shoulders and looked him straight in the eye with all the intensity he could muster. “We won’t let that happen!” 

Bill laughed at them cruelly. “RIGHT, CUZ YOU’VE HAD SO MUCH SUCCESS STOPPING ME IN THE PAST.”

“I’ll find some other way!” Ford insisted.

“I’M SURE YOU COULD, WITH TIME.” Bill agreed. “BUT I’M GONNA STRANGLE YOU IN YOUR SLEEP BEFORE THEN!”

Not if I strangle myself first! Another one of Stan’s stray thoughts called.

Ford gave his brother a frustrated shake. “No! Stanley, I swear to you, that won’t be necessary!”

“Alright, that’s it. We’re not havin’ this conversation in my brain, where you can hear all my unprocessed thoughts.” Stan decided.

Suddenly, Ford’s form and everything around them flickered and began to fade to white. Stan and Bill were the only ones who remained solid and whole. Stan was waking up? But he’d never been asleep before the spell in the first place!

“Don’t you try any funny business!” Stan pointed an accusing finger at Bill. “I’m coming back to shatter you into a million smaller pieces as soon as I fall asleep tonight!”

[katsukisbeatingheart]

torridly we touch

soulmate au where you're born with markings on your body, representing the place you and your soulmate make physical contact for the first time.

word count: 3,055

warnings: a not too terribly graphic description of One (1) injury right at the beginning

a.n.: i love him. i love sero hanta. he's comfort character. i think of him and it's just instant happy. sero toe nin. i love him so MUCH thamk u that is all.

psst

you can find shinso’s here!

you can find dabi’s here!

you can find bakugou’s here!

ao3

Splotched light and color rolled around the backs of his eyelids, sweeping up and over Sero's peripheries. It criminally overshadowed the shock concussing his senses—if one could believe it—unfolding under the jagged ridges protruding from his torso. His perp had skewered him from behind, hulking a torn chunk of scaffolding through the air with a missile-like boom.  

In retrospect, he really should have seen it coming.

A contentedly lazy late morning of patrol sent Cellophane through the skyscapes like he didn’t have a tape quirk anchoring him to his responsibilities below.  

The breeze shrugged along his arms and shoulders as he propelled himself up and over startled but beaming pedestrians, many of whom stopped to cheer and wave after him. Sun warm on his skin, Sero spun and twisted freely like he’d trained and dreamed to all those many not-so-long years ago as a kid.  

He felt like Deku, Gale Force, Tsukuyomi—flitting through the air as though he was born to be there, wingless and all.

Maybe in a bit, he’d make a stop by his favorite food stall, he mused; the one with frozen orange slices and berries on a stick—the ones he could swallow and stomach the brain freeze for the sweet freshness that burst on his tongue. He could chill out in the park, swinging around to say hello to the kids in the area and mingle with the people.  

There was a particular character who tended to the flowers along the fountain he maybe—kind of—really was hoping to get a glimpse of.

And maybe, kind of, possibly take the chance to talk to.

He didn’t know.  

He was feeling good today, and not a thing could—

A harsh howl punctured the idealistic bubble carrying him higher up the skyline the deeper he dove into the metropolis.

Alright.

Never mind that, then.

As easy as it was to climb, Sero dropped, angling his arms to lampposts and street signs underneath him with a precision engrained into him like the blood in his veins. He swept over loosely scattering civilians—some static in their movements, unyielding in spite of the clamour swallowing their morning.

Unless, maybe this was part of routine. Used to the calamity like nothing more than a bit of poor weather at this point.  

Regardless, Cellophane kept his visor up and his smile bright, unwilling to sacrifice morale irrespective of the moment.  

The young hero gained on the silhouette quickly panning into view.

Almost getting flattened in the process.

Sero watched the wild swinging of limbs corner and constrict against the tapering street way, as well as the succeeding attempt—ironically, an epic fail—at maneuvering around the buildings—which appeared to be bending in further inward to try and grab at him.

The figure was bumbling and dumb, too witless to be considered threatening—if it weren’t for his size. He dwarfed nearly every building on the block, catching pieces of the façade on serrated contours of his limbs, like overgrown, triangulated, scales. He looked like a walking rock slide, to be completely honest.  

A walking, groaning rock slide, closing up his only feasible escape route with his own carnage the further he rumbled into the enclosed shopping district. Obviously, still bad—but if he was trying to be discreet in his escape from whatever he had done, it was not working.

A quirk that granted gargantuan impressiveness to an existence of such— such—

Sero struggled to find the words.

Stupidity was all he could come up with, as it was by the very definition the embodiment of stupid, he was sure.  

Which made the hero feel all the more a pathetic, diminutive lump of mass bleeding out onto the asphalt beneath him.

His helmet had cracked in a lightning strike down the front of his vision, webbing into whittled scuffs and bruises along the polycarbonate. He frowned, briefly pondering how much of a bitch it was going to be trying to patch that up on his own, before shipping it off to the agency to have it repaired. He loved his support team, but he’d be damned if he kept coming to them with new problems every sparking day.

That was even just forgoing the fact that at present, he existed as nothing more than a sticky shish kabob, which he guessed, was probably a far more pressing matter than the sanctity of his uniform.  

He really should have seen this coming.

The big guy was so hard to miss too!

Already, the pipe was growing more and more tangible as the initial effects of the impact wore away. Sero inhaled sharply, grunting a terse breath past gritted teeth that had only moments before set into a smile. He did his best to keep it there, but the aching in his body chipped mercilessly at his liveliness. Needless to say, having a piece of anything—much more a metal baton—sticking out of your body was not great, and struggling with it while there was an unhinged behemoth to chase after did not help.

Well this just sucks.

His vision swirled as sweat gathered with a vengeance at the nape of his neck.  

He could power through it, he told himself, if he really tried.

His stomach plunged in protest.

Look for a way to shuck down the edges to avoid catching on anything as he swung after the assailant, but not so short as to accidentally let it wiggle free.  

He was scrambling now.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. He could tape around it then, wrap himself up to subdue the throbbing—provide a little extra pressure to hold himself together.  

And then what? Stand up? All on his own?

Yeah, yeah—and then finish what this bloke started and then think about worrying about the pipe in his side.

As if.

Pfft, no biggie, he’s had paper cuts and stubbed toes worse than this. This was nothing. Besides, with the hole in him now, he was finally starting to look like a completed tape dispenser.  

Sero choked, immediately wincing as his light and sudden chuckle fractured into choppy, pained gasps.

He thought about what his friends would do.

He knew Bakugo would absolutely make fun of him for getting taken down by a stick, but would definitely blast him to a melted puddle of glue if he found out he didn’t stop to try and save himself.

And the others would let him, no arguments made.

As he sat there struggling for breath, he didn’t notice the uneven and desperate pitter patter of quick feet, skipping and twisting over piles of rubble to get to him. Otherwise preoccupied, Cellophane plucked at his inner grit with an iron resolve, goading his ego raging angrier than the giant into standing up.

It wasn’t until a figure was on him and they were pressing their fingers and palms into his exposed abdomen, did he make a motion.  

It was quicker than you or him were ready for, the hand not cradling his injury lurching out like a threatened snake to wrap around one of your wrists.

His grip wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t particularly painful either—as if giving whatever had startled him the chance to take a step back.  

Looking back, he should’ve maybe been ready for the villain.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for this.

No matter how much people told him about soulmates—answered all of his eager questions with a knowing smile and a glinting prospect like they knew the secret the universe had gifted to him, and him alone.

Well.

And you.

Wait, and you.

His torso burned like he’d been lit into by Shoto again—only this time with his left side— convinced your quirk was actually some sort of flame emitter cauterizing his wound. But when his fingers brushed the still-inky injury on their way to you, the pain only confirmed his suspicions.

There was a ringing in his ears, echoing like the messy tumble of fireworks from the stars as they popped in and out of existence. He knew for certain it was true, when he saw the same chain of emotions flicker across your features. Your eyes settled on your subtly splotched fingertips—marks now glowing with a light that grossly undermined the actual sensation.

“Hey…” his voice was barely a whisper, raspy enough to strike a nerve in the back of your head that screamed something was wrong.

As if. Being stabbed wasn’t wrong enough.

You did your best to quell the raging pit of unease filming your stomach, however, steeling an attentive and encouraging gaze on the man beneath your fingers.

“It’s—” he coughed, convulsing on the single syllable as though doing that much took an even bigger bit out of him than the metal did.  

You held your breath, attempting to quietly collect your whirligig thoughts—which were spinning wildly beyond your control—and carefully listen for the fragmented voice stuttering for air.

”—it’s kn—”

Wait.

“—knife—”

Was he…?

“—It’s knife to finally meet you.”

…laughing.

He was laughing.

If he weren’t dying already, you’d have probably killed him.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head so hard they'd have continued on to the next person. You thumped angrily on his thigh, pushing a sorely relieved exhale and horribly infuriated growl off the tip of your tongue and through your clenched teeth.

“I swear to— I thought you were—! Shut up and don’t scare me like that again!”

His chortling rolled heavier over his shoulders and you watched the tension dissipate with his self-satisfied grin. Cellophane said nothing more, focusing a poor attempt to stifle his own amusement. A small smile tied to an afterthought crept to your lips.

You couldn’t help yourself.

“And while we’re at it—please, spear me your lame jokes—if you’re going to make a pun, at least do it right.”

“Ugh, yeah. You’re definitely the one for me, alright.” It was his turn to groan, though he was looking less and less like a man who’d been skewered on the sidewalk and more like the raffish character you presumed him to usually be. If he was this charming a battered mess, you wondered what he was capable of when fully rational.

You blushed a vivid red, hiding your discomposure in a glare of concentration toward your quirk.

“I said: stop talking—you’ll waste your energy and make me lose focus,” you breathed through your teeth's tight grip on your lip.

“Can’t help I’m just so naturally distracting,” he keened—hardly ashamed in his own assuredness. And if you hadn’t just snapped a gentle chastisement over concentration, you’d have glared affectionately at the wounded man's glimmering smirk, silently and unquestionably agreeing with him. When you don’t say anything though, Cellophane quietly falters—speaking lightly of a great disappointment in the history of soulmates, he’s sure. He has his own bias, but he doesn’t think he could imagine lesser, at the moment—and that makes him internally lurch.

“So much for first impressions, huh?”

“I’ve had much worse,” you smile softly.

“I—Worse? What could possibly be worse than seeing a kebabed man flirt with you and death at the same time?” he asked, croaking on the end of his sentence under an ill-concealed grimace.  

He managed to start taking a distracted interest in what your fingers were doing, previously a little caught off-guard with the consecutive life-changing occurrences back to back. Cellophane was starting to feel at the end of his roll, and in a way, he was thankful for the game shifting, beguiling twist of fate—incapable of being more thankful that you came with it.  

That was the moment it occurred to him exactly who you were and where he’d seen you before.

Guess he was given the chance to find the nerve to talk to you after all.

Your voice never strayed from its lightness, coaxing a staggering breath out of him with ease when he hadn’t even realized he’d ever stopped. The rise and fall of his chest fluttered in time with your lashes as they beat rapidly in bashfulness and thought.

“It’s not every day you get to help your hero, much more find out you’re cosmologically joined at the hip,” you conceded with soothing finality. It took a moment for Sero’s head to stop spinning—a symptom that had nothing to do with the gouge in his side. Cellophane's smirk—that he previously had trouble plastering on—grew exponentially.

“You heard it here folks—you admit you’re stuck with me—the universe said no take-backs.”  

“I’m looking forward to it,” you whispered.

He raised his arm to catch a stray drop of sweat rolling down your creased brow, holding it to the sun thoughtfully, like anything that came from you—a very familiar stranger—held every single answer to every single question in existence.

He swiped his fingertips over the skin of your hand, sending a rippling shiver down your spine and right back up again.  

“You’re beautiful,” he said, already feeling more and more alive by the second. He burned through you with two measly words and it was enough to gulp down a bit of air like a person suffocated. Heat twisted in your chest and up to the apples of your cheeks, positively glowing.

You sat back on your heels with a small huff, pushing off the ground to stand upright. You hadn’t remembered grabbing his hand to pull him with you, distractedly pleased he didn’t squirm or groan as he came with. That meant you had done your job.

“My Quirk 's a sustainability quirk,” you revealed evenly, a modicum of urgency swallowing the statement. You hoped he didn’t catch the light shake in your voice.  

Or the dodge of his appraisal.

“I can only do so much to help the body along, but that’s only under the pretense that you’ll be resting. It’ll open again soon—sooner rather than later so— so please—” you paused to tug sternly at the plates resting on his collar bone, “—be careful.”

He grinned a grin that felt like a sunspot, teasing a fresh pot of soil and the breeze of green leaves secured beneath attentive fingers. His voice was like dimly glowing embers tucked into the palm of your hand. It was one of your favorite feelings in the world.

“You got it.”

“Go be a hero.”

He leaned forward to press his lips firmly to the crown of your forehead, a steady and solid reminder that your life was never going to be the same at long last.

“Always.”

…

“I told you to be careful!”

“Its just a flesh wound.”

“You nearly had your arm torn off!” you shrieked.  

You had watched the man swing up and out of your arms after securing a bit of tape around his torso—winking with a bravado unbefitting of someone so close to death mere minutes before, and yet so natural in the expression of an honest hero—before you collapsed in an exhausted pile on the concrete.  

Aiding people did substantially different—not quite so much larger; just different—damage to your vitality than healing plants did. And it didn’t help realizing the kind of pressure you hand on your hands— literally on your hands, you thought, as you gazed wondrously at the soul-marks on your fingertips. You don’t recall there ever being a cosmogonic blueprint or script issued for meeting your “other half”, but you can’t say you ever expected to meet and then have to save their life within the same breath.

But when the fight came back around to the wrecked and abandoned square—Cellophane at the lead looking like a poke that stoked a malignant fire with that mischievous grin and clear, self-satisfied cackle thrown to the raging bull of a human behind him—you damn near keeled over.  

The hero led him down the way, stringing tape like tripwire and nets as he went—successfully slowing the giant down, and unsuccessfully quelling his erraticism.

The hero had the audacity to smile and wink at you again, like he was playing some kind of game and not taunting someone who had nearly killed him.

“I did not find you just to lose you within the same day! You better be careful!” you had shouted, grinding the heel of your shoe into the concrete as you fisted your hands at your sides like a child mid-tantrum.

Cellophane’s blithe articulation snapped you back to your present fury—still bubbling over from moments ago. His smile hadn’t broken since you put it back with the touch of your hands, and he was certain it would never fall off again, as long as you were around.

“Fine, fine—you win. Kiss it better?”  

“Do not push your luck, hero,” you growled angrily (at the impetuous boy in front of you!).  

You found yourself reaching for him anyway.

Grasping at the lightly shredded fabric of his hero suit to tug him toward you, your lips collided in a fervent promise and torrid threat. Even as he met you with equal gumption, that smile never fractured.

“Looks like I’d better get into trouble more often, if this is what I get for it,” he sighed against your lips. You leaned back, humming contentedly and bumping your nose to his in an idle brush brimming with affection. He grinned at you through a half-lidded gaze that almost made you visibly squirm.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Wanna go grab something to eat? I know this great ice pop stand we could swing by that I’ve been thinking about all day.”

“After we get you taken care of,” you ribbed, gently jabbing your knuckles into the side that wasn’t currently trying to hold itself together by the fading effects of your quirk and the measly piece of tape from his. He jolted lightly, leaning down to groan into the flesh of your cheek.

You twirled your fingers together fondly, dipping your head and realigning your faces one more time to press your forehead to his, your eyes sliding shut as a new wave of euphoria rushed through you. His curled fingers fit softly into your own and you couldn’t fight the urge to brush them along your lips even if you wanted to.

“After.”