#i know i always say i write soft nonsense exclusively

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Heyo! So I was thinking about that baby fever thing I @ed u in earlier and I was thinking if maybe u could do some headcanons on what u think uh Reborn Wukong would be like as a dad to his newborn baby? I feel like he’d be such a good dad 🤭☺️

Reborn!Wukong: Papa Canons.

Pair: dad!Wukong x mom!Reader.

Content/Trigger Warnings: cuteness overload, my 1st shot at writing headcanons.

Authors Notes: CAN I JUST MENTION HOW FUCKING CUTE HE LOOKS IN THIS PICTURE?! LIKE.... OMFG, MY HEART. Anyways, IDK if I did it right, but this had to be the first one I did. The idea has been plaguing my mind since I saw both this request and this art you're referring to. Might make a part 2, but I dunno.

Hope you enjoy! Wanted to make this extra special bc your support and feedback always make me smile. <3

The audacity of this child to look so much like you. 

Looked at his precious baby from over your shoulder just as the little angel opened their eyes and made eye contact. Made his world stop and his stone heart explode.

He was so cautious and a bit nervous when you asked him if he wanted to hold the baby. The second he had that infant in his arms… his world stopped for the second time.

They had his eyes, tail and little fuzzies all over, but they had your facial features, complexion, and hair colour that matched the fur.

If you thought he was overprotective with you, get ready for him to be the most vicious Monkey King there ever was. 

He always made sure that you held that baby from beside him, not letting the child out of his peripheral vision. 

Someone tried to kidnap the child once… let's just say they didn't live to regret it.

He tells the little one a lot of stories when they can't sleep, only if you and the others are asleep, though. He doesn't need you or Pigsy teasing him about being ‘adorable’ and all that nonsense, but he also doesn't want the little angel to disturb your sleep.

Sure he was lenient with forcing you to sleep regularly, but now? He made sure that an hour or two at most when the sun goes down, you and the baby are asleep. Whether that means he has to carry you both in his arms or not. If that became the case or even if your feet hurt too much to walk, then so be it.

Oh how he enjoys when such occasions do occur. Usually he’d carry your things so you could focus on the bundle, but when he has to carry you both, of course he forces Pigsy to carry them.

He loves holding you both in his arms, especially when you rest your head against his shoulder and tell him how much you love him. Thanking him for blessing you with your bundle of joy as you often did to her.

Whenever you camp out, too far from any village, he makes sure to make shelter for you and the baby near a tree to keep the little one out of the dew. 

Makes the nest with the best items he could find and if it’s not enough for the both of you, he runs off to find other things that are even better. 

If you pass a marketplace that sells anything soft? He ensures that the most comfortable ones are procured exclusively for you and your infant.

He enjoys watching you feed the bundle… cause… ya know. You're his wife. He also thinks the little sneeze they do every time they’re finished is absolutely adorable, and it melts his heart every.single.time.

He watches the baby closely when they reach the age to sit up on their own. He makes sure to be ready for when they fall over in case you're too slow to catch their head.

He loves the kid, sure, absolutely without a doubt… but sometimes he doesn't like it when all your attention is on the baby to the point you don't acknowledge him.

He's an amazing dad, but he’s an amazing husband and mate first. GIVE HIM ATTENTION, DAMMIT! 

He’s still the same possessive Wukong, of course he’d get jealous if even the baby gets more attention than him. Give him snuggles when you get the chance, a plus if you hold him and the baby.

He still often gets you little gifts and things he thinks you may like, especially since he knows how stressed you've been since you got pregnant. It’s his doing, so it was the least he could do.

When the baby holds his finger and gurgles with that furrow you frequently did, he tells them not to talk to him with that attitude. Something that makes you smile, trying your best not to laugh. Especially when he scolds you for passing on that attitude to his precious infant.

When the baby does it with that large gummy smile that also reminded him of you, his heart soar. He'd have that content smile that makes any hardship worth it. You absolutely love that smile the most.

Despite the times he would frequently tell them not to ‘talk’ to you like that, he liked to say it served you right for passing down your sass in the first place.

When the baby gets old enough to eat mushed up fruit? He collects the ripest and juiciest ones for the both of you. Yes, he will beat Pigsy to a pulp if the gluttonous pig tested his luck to try taking some.

[iftheshoef1tz]

Remember when I asked for prompts? Well, i wrote the first one, as requested (ish) by @krem-does-stuff! I misremembered the prompt, so it��s not quite the “azris first kiss in the rain + eris in a white shirt” requested, but that just means i’ll get to write that one too! I suppose if i write enough drabbles, i’ll put them in a collection on ao3, but for now, it’s tumblr exclusive. Title from a poem by Robert Perry (that i don’t know the name too lmao) shout-out to @queercontrarian for finding the poem.

This is set in the Auld Lang Syne universe, though you don’t necessarily have to have read that one to get what’s going on here. (Long story short: modern music school AU, will-they-won’t-they neris)

my heartbeat and its racing

December in Boston is blustery and wet in the grips of a nor’easter, and the cold wind bites around Eris’s legs, searching for any exposed skin. The stage door of the Boston Opera House is just barely hidden from the rain by a jut of roof, and Eris stands there, nodding and murmuring approving nonsense to musicians as they file through the doors and into the muck.

He’d been left on door duty after the ballet while Feyre went with Rhysand to secure a table at Yardhouse. Lucien and Elain ought to have been here, but Lucien had “something” come up. With exasperation, Eris assumes the thing that came up was Elain’s ass. Lucien isn’t as sly as he thinks he is.

Nesta was supposed to come, too.

It’s mid-December, and she hasn’t spoken to him since his ill-advised attempt to ask her for drinkies. (His thoughts curdle at the memory.) She sits next to him in studio class, her back rigid, the curve of her jaw brutal and tempting. It shouldn’t intrigue him; it shouldn’t make him want her to be angrier, just to see what the explosion would be like.

The stage door opens, and finally, the person he’s been waiting for pushes through.

The top of his cello case bobs as he ducks slightly to make it through the door. Azriel’s hazel eyes widen when he sees Eris standing there, and he hefts his cello higher on his back. “It’s you.”

“Don’t be so excited, Azriel,” he returns dryly.

Azriel flushes. “Didn’t think you were the kind to enjoy ballet.”

“One cannot miss The Nutcracker.” He doesn’t say he has never missed a show except for his stint in Michigan.

Azriel shrugs uncomfortably, his eyes darting over Eris’s face. He’s always like this - a collection of perhaps ten words in a trench coat, more practice hours than personality.

But that’s not quite true, Eris thinks as Azriel steps towards the edge of the overhang. He likes to talk, but he doesn’t pretend to be interested when he’s not. It’s refreshing, if rude.

“It’s my favorite ballet.” Eris blinks, but before he can process Azriel’s words, the other man continues, “They went ahead, I guess?”

Eris nods, leaning back on the wall and facing Azriel. It makes it suddenly so simple to see the way Azriel has stepped closer to Eris than he needs to as he peers out into the rain.

A stray drop of water plops into his face, and Azriel swipes at it, still too close to be casual.

Eris pushes away from the wall, crowds close to Azriel and takes one cheek in his palm. Azriel’s breath gusts over him in a warm cloud, and then Eris is kissing him.

When Eris pulls back, Azriel takes a stumbling, hesitant step towards him. They hover there in that intoxicating, hanging moment, too close and too far away.

He swipes at another drop of rain working its way down Azriel’s cheek. Azriel’s eyes are incredibly bright, and his breath hitches, like he wants to say something. The words stay there, just behind his beautifully white teeth.

His silence tugs at something in Eris’s chest, so he lets himself be pulled back into another kiss. The sleeves of Azriel’s suit are starched stiff, so at odds with the softness of his mouth, the tentative swipe of his tongue against Eris’s lips.

One of Azriel’s hands cups the back of Eris’s head, and for the first time, Eris has the sense that something dangerous is happening. He lets his hands slip down to the bend of Azriel’s elbows, opens his mouth -

Someone clears their throat behind them, and Azriel jumps, crowding Eris closer to the wall and nearly braining him with his cello case as he whirls. “Sorry,” he says breathlessly, and victory crests low in Eris’s stomach.

“Merry Christmas,” is the violinist’s dry response. She nods at them once, and then her umbrella cracks open under the deluge of rain before she disappears into the night.

Placing a hand flat on Azriel’s case, Eris gives him a shove. His head is muddled, even with the space between them. He steps into the watery light of a nearby streetlight, relishing the freezing drops of rain that hit him in the moments before his own umbrella opens.

Azriel is still by the stage door, a sweetly pleased look on his face. Victory and something unbearably hopeful pinches in Eris’s chest again.

He ignores them both.

“Come along,” Eris calls, flipping up his coat collar. He doesn’t look back, but he can hear the patter of rain hitting Azriel’s cello case when he steps into the night.

[karliahs]

prompt: someone in 1-A finds a stray cat and tries to hide it with them in class, Aizawa finds out

The ‘how to secretly bring three kittens to class without Aizawa noticing’ meeting lasts for several hours, and produces mostly bad ideas. 

“We could bribe him?” Ashido muses. She’s laying down, holding one of the kittens up above her head, hands spread wide to give it a little obstacle course to walk over.

“What would Aizawa even do with money?” Uraraka wonders. “He wears the same clothes all the time, lives here at UA and I’ve only ever seen him eat jelly packets…”

“We also don’t have money,” Tsuyu points out. “We can’t bribe him with something we don’t have.”

“What do we have? Something we have a lot of…” Uraraka says, staring into the black kitten’s eyes like it holds the secrets of the universe.

“Cats,” Todoroki answers, staring solemnly at the smallest black-and-white kitten currently chewing on his finger.

…

Discarded plans include one of them faking sick to stay home with the cats - regrettably, their group is divided into people who care too much about class to skip (everyone but Ashido), and people who would almost certainly be suspected of malingering if they suddenly claimed to be sick (Ashido). 

Further discarded plans involve invoking more allies among the class. Uraraka rules out her friends due to either a habit of mumbling secrets aloud, or being too much of a stickler for rules. Ashido cheerfully discards all of her friends for being “unreliable in basically every way possible.” Ashido also argues against involving Kouda, the most useful member of the class for this particular problem, unless absolutely necessary - “the guy has no poker face! Aizawa gives him one harsh look and he’ll crack like an egg.”

Todoroki listens to these arguments in silence. “Right now there are three cats to a ratio of four people,” he says. “Any more, and we all get less time per cat.”

“That’s not a very heroic attitude, Todoroki,” Tsuyu points out.

Todoroki continues scritching his favourite kitten’s chin, the black one with white feet, mentally dubbed ‘boots cat’ - there had been a sub-meeting about naming the kittens, which determined it would be too heartbreaking to do this until they were reasonably sure they weren’t going to be made to give them away tomorrow. “It’s just math,” he adds softly. 

This puts an end to the allies plan.

…

“Tsu, what’s wrong with your eyes?”

“I’m allergic to cat hair, kero,” Tsuyu answers.

Uraraka stares at her. Tsuyu stares back, while continuing to pet the cat. Uraraka gives up.

“I mean,” Ashido says, “cats aren’t that noticeable, right? Don’t they sleep a bunch?”

“Cats sleep a lot,” Tsuyu says. “Kittens don’t.” 

Ashido makes a noise of frustration, lapsing back into thought. “The ceiling in our classroom is pretty high,” she pipes up eventually. “Maybe…Aizawa wouldn’t notice if we just…” She gestures to Uraraka’s hands.

“We are not levitating the cats,” Uraraka says. She tilts her head, considering. “We are not levitating the cats, unless we really can’t think of a better plan.”

…

“Three cats together need a lot of space,” Todoroki says. “But one cat on its own doesn’t need as much. Maybe we should be thinking of plans to hide all of them separately instead of together.”

“Divide and conquer,” Tsuyu says thoughtfully.

“That seems like taking one problem we don’t know how to solve, and making it three problems we don’t know how to solve,” Uraraka says.

“Hey, the cats are not problems,” Ashido says. “Life is the problem. Life, UA, society, taking us away from the things that truly matter.”

They ponder this wisdom while observing the cats. The black cat is gently licking the black-and-white cat’s ear.

“I’m sorry I called you problems,” Uraraka says solemnly. The boots-cat hiccups.

…

Divide and conquer is still the best idea in play when they give up, around 1am. This means that the next day, Uraraka, Todoroki and Ashido are each enacting their own plans to hide a kitten during morning classes. Tsuyu had designated herself operational support, and also in charge of creating distractions.

Uraraka is a strong believer that if you do something nonchalantly enough, 99% of people won’t question it. So, her plan is to take her books out of her backpack, place them inside her desk, and then also place the kitten inside, swiftly and with confidence.

Unfortunately for her, Bakugou is the 1%. “That’s a fucking cat,” he says. “You have a fucking cat. What the hell, Round Face?”

Several other classmates look over in shock. There’s a brief moment of silence, during which Todoroki’s backpack meows. Aizawa strides in just before the bell rings, the sudden noise sending Ashido’s kitten leaping out of her bag and running across the room.

“Should have levitated them,” Todoroki murmurs.

…

“Man, don’t you have a class to teach?” Mic asks.

“My class are capable of feeding themselves,” Aizawa says, expressionless. “These cats aren’t. Therefore, they take priority.”

The cat-harborors, plus cats, plus Aizawa, had decamped to the staff room, where Aizawa was feeding the kittens while the others sat around trying to look suitably apologetic. Aizawa had made a couple of attempts to begin lecturing them for smuggling multiple live animals into class, and each time had been swiftly distracted by kittens.

“Eraser!” Mic objects. “You can’t tell your kids they’re less important than cats!”

“It’s okay,” Uraraka says. “I’m pretty sure we all agree that these cats are the most important thing in the world right now.” The circle in general nods.

Silent cat petting ensues. “Did it ever occur to you to take them to a shelter?” Aizawa asks.

“Yeah,” Uraraka says. “Kinda? We didn’t talk about it, necessarily, but…”

“We need this,” Ashido interrupts. She looks solemn, by her standards, even if there is currently a kitten curled up in her folded arms, batting at her bracelets. “Like, I know no one would say we need cats to live, but man, life is hard, and we need these tiny beautiful cats! And their tiny beautiful feet!”

Todoroki silently lifts his sleeping kitten’s paw, demonstrating the tininess.

Aizawa sighs, but against all odds, he doesn’t seem to have an actual argument against this.

“At the beginning of the year,” Tsuyu interjects, “you said UA gives teachers a lot of discretion in how you run your classes.” She pauses, meaningfully. “Does that discretion extend to class pets?”

Aizawa stares intently at Tsuyu, objectively frowning, but Tsuyu has the distinct impression that his estimation of her has gone up by several points. 

“Eraser,” Mic says. “You know I hate to be the voice of reason, but would the old man really let you keep three cats at UA?” Mic stares off into the middle distance, briefly entranced. “Would he?”

“It’s debatable,” Aizawa adds. They’ve rarely seen him look so thoughtful. “There isn’t enough data to be sure.”

“Is that…a yes?” Ashido asks incredulously.

Aizawa shifts his gaze to her, no less intense for the kitten playing in his shirt sleeves. “You’ve yet to convince me you four are capable of caring for even one cat, let alone three kittens.”

“So if we do convince you,” Todoroki asks, “then you’ll let us keep the cats?”

Aizawa glares at everyone in the room except the cats for a solid three seconds. 

“Come to Eraserhead’s class,” Mic muses into the silence. “You have a 70% higher chance of being expelled, but you also have three cats?”

Aizawa doesn’t dignify this with a response. “There will be a class,” he says, “on taking care of cats of various ages. It will not be fun. There will be tests.” His glare softens as he looks down at the kitten now curled around his left hand, seemingly opting to have her daily five minutes of sleep now. “If enough of you pass, and the principal okays it, the cats can live at the dorms.”

“Oh my god,” Ashido says, eyes shining. “This is the best day of my human life. I’ve never been so pumped to take a test!”

Todoroki holds his kitten up, cradled gently in the palms of his hands. A tiny, warm smile spreads across his face. “Now we can give them names.”

[amerrierworld]

Rich & Creamy

request: Hey, can you write another fanfic similar to Naughty List? Something that’s like dom Carol again and female reader. Maybe Carol could take the reader out to dinner instead. Could this also be a really steamy smut? Basically smut in a public place haha. Thanks ;)

Summary: Carol takes you out, and gives you something sweeter than a diner meal.

Characters: Carol Aird x you

Word Count: 1,715

Warnings: sMUT! you know the deal; dom!Carol incoming, food innuendo and public sex/masturbation (?) :)

“Mrs Aird.. I don’t know if I can afford these meals,” you admitted as you stared, wide-eyed at your menu. It was an exclusive diner that the blonde had taken you to, and you felt inadequate, even while wearing the best outfit you had in your closet.

“Nonsense, this is my treat,” she puffed her cigarette, “get whatever you like. Really.”

“And how many times must I say to call me Carol,” she added, giving you a pointed but teasing look.

You blushed and buried your nose in the menu. Carol chuckled at your demeanour and calmly sipped her martini. 

Eventually you decided on the soup of the day; a delicious broccoli soup that was three times the price of what you expected broccoli soup to be. Carol nodded in approval as you ordered, 

“Their soups are always delicious,” she commented as the waiter walked away. “Always the perfect amount of thickness, and creaminess.”

Your face flushed with heat, and you sucked in a hard breath. Carol, on the other hand, seemed unaffected, putting out her cigarette in the ashtray.

“What did you get again?” you asked, having forgotten her order after working yourself up to order your own meal.

“The chicken breast,” she said, again not seeing the way you reacted to her words, “apparently it’s quite succulent, I’ve heard.”

“Oh.. how nice,” you managed to say, squirming in your seat.

At that point, Carol’s eyes flickered down to your body for a split second before meeting your gaze again, a smile growing on her face. You wondered if she was simply feeling bad for how uncomfortable you were in such a high-end diner.

You chatted a little while longer, tension easing a little as you discussed normal topics. Carol was an elegant, confident and well put-together woman in her prime, and you absorbed everything she said and did like a sponge. 

Your meals arrived perfectly on time, and you groaned at the smell as the plates were set down. Carol stared at you a moment, but you didn’t notice as you dug in. It was a wonderful soup, thick and delicious. The sounds you were making were hardly lady-like, and you slurped loudly on one particular spoonful.

Carol was cutting into the chicken, and you could see the rich juices flowing from the meat,

“That looks really juicy,” you commented. She raised an eyebrow.

“It does, doesn’t it. Do you like your breast that way, too?”

Realizing what you had said, you blushed, spoon nearly clattering back in your bowl. 

“Oh, no.. I meant..” Carol merely smiled at you, beginning to eat and leaving you with your own dirty thoughts.

You got dessert as well, two bowls of ice cream, because Carol insisted on the top quality of their desserts. You took your time with this meal, because it was more delicious than any ice cream you had ever had. 

You were still working through the meal, commenting on the beautiful flavours, whereas Carol had finished long before you. And watching you eat like that, with seemingly no shame in how you looked or what sounds you were making, it was making her very, very aroused.

Her foot suddenly, slowly, brushed against your leg, making you stutter. She had taken off her heel and her toes pressed against you with no issues at all.

“Shh, Y/N,” she shushed you, sipping her martini like it was the easiest thing to make you come undone. Which it was. 

“Carol- what.. what are you..” your eyes glanced around the diner, worried about anyone seeing you lose your cool.

“Hush, baby,” Carol drawled, her foot inching higher, “does it feel good?”

You dug your spoon forcefully into your ice cream as her toe rubbed against a sensitive spot along your thigh, and you nodded weakly. She grinned,

“Good girl. Want me to keep going?”

“What if someone sees?”

“No one will see. Don’t you trust me?”

You bit your lip, trying to act normal as you lifted the spoon up to your mouth again, your hand shaking uncontrollably. Carol seemed to be enjoying this sight of you immensely, and didn’t hesitate to press her toes against your clit, through your panties. You nearly choked. 

“That’s it,” she urged, “don’t be too suspicious now, hm?”

She rubbed in agonizingly slow circles, behaving as normally as possible, continuing your conversation from before. You squirmed in your seat, wanting more pressure. 

Then it stopped. 

Your eyes snapped up to Carol’s, her face neutral, her eyes blazing,

“I asked you a question, Y/N.”

“O-oh, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Am I really boring you so much? Tsk, Y/N, please pay attention,” she teased, “I said, what did you think of your soup?”

“Oh,” you breathed, as her toes began rubbing again. She must have incredibly strength in those calves, you thought, “y-yes it was really good.”

“How so?” her voice was low, thick, brimming with desire.

“It-it was..” your breath hitched, but you pressed on, “really rich. L-like, I just couldn’t stop putting it in my mouth.”

You could barely believe what you were saying, but Carol’s eyes darkened and that was enough to make you keep going,

“You were right about the creaminess.. so thick a-and.. addictive,” you gasped, “I wanted to put my whole face in the bowl.”

Then, suddenly, Carol’s foot was gone and she was rising up off of her seat, her coat in hand. She nonchalantly got out and was sliding next to you on your side of the booth. Her perfume enveloped you with how closely she was pressed against you. 

“I want to see you finish yourself off, sweetheart,” her voice was soft, low, and sent shivers through you.

“W-what?” she was putting on her large coat, leaning her arm on the table in a way that shielded you from the rest of the diner. Her head came low and she whispered,

“I won’t ask again.”

You bit your lip, trembling fingers making your way under the waistband of your skirt. Your cunt was dripping and your hand was immediately slippery. Your mouth dropped open and your head leaned back against the booth, your body sliding lower to stretch out your lower half and hide more of you from anyone.

“How wet are you?” Carol asked, her own breathing becoming heavier by the second.

“S-so wet,” you whined.

“Go on. Touch yourself. I want to see your pretty face when you come,” Carol’s voice was like a drug to you, “don’t you want to come for me, baby girl?”

“Yes, please,” you gasped. Your fingers found a familiar rhythm against your wet clit, rubbing hard but desperately trying to keep your noises inside.

“God, if you could see yourself right now,” Carol’s hand reached out to turn along your hairline, tucking some of it behind your ear. She then gripped your chin and forced your gaze to meet hers,

“Do you like this, sweetheart? You enjoy doing whatever I ask, don’t you?”

You nodded, gasping weakly.

“I enjoy it too,” she grinned. “I’d kiss you, but that might make it a little too obvious, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh- Carol,” you wanted her to kiss you so badly, wanted her to smudge her lipstick on your skin, wanted her to mark you, to feel her fingers where her toes had been. Her body was leaning over yours, and you dared a glance at her blouse, which was hanging low, giving you only a glimpse of her bra and the skin underneath. The sight made you rub yourself harder.

“Dirty girl,” Carol scolded, grabbing your trembling thigh with nails digging in through the fabric of your skirt, “just wait until we’re alone.”

The promise of more, to think of her dragging you into her bedroom, in the back of her car, in the bathroom of the diner.. you couldn’t help it. Your fingers increased their speed and suddenly you were flying off the edge, hips stuttering and your mouth hanging open. Carol was inches away from you, grinning at the sight, breathing in your arousal and sweat like oxygen. 

You were sticky everywhere. You were afraid to get up, wondering if you had stained your skirt and the seat below you. But Carol didn’t seem concerned at all.

“Such a good, good girl,” she cooed, “show me your fingers.”

You pulled them out, whimpering softly, showing the sticky remains of your cum. Without hesitating, Carol drew them into her mouth, skilled tongue swiping over each finger. You nearly groaned at the feeling, biting your tongue to keep yourself from making noise.

Once clean, she let you have your hand back, leaning back a bit and sitting face forward again. She reached for the spoon in your bowl of half-melted ice cream, and took a big spoonful,

“Hmm.. very creamy,” she commented, winking at you, “sweet.. but tangy, in the best way. To die for, really.” 

“Y-yeah,” you agreed. “M-maybe you should take some home.”

She turned her head and looked at you, calculating.

“Is that what you want? For me to take some home?”

“I mean.. it seems only fair. M-maybe I could try some.. too?”

“Is that so? You think you could handle this? It can be incredibly addicting you know,” her other hand was still digging into your thigh. You could see her chest heaving up and down. 

Over her shoulder you saw the waiter approaching and you steeled yourself, calming your breathing. 

“You’d be surprised at what I can handle,” you whispered back teasingly. She let out an appreciative chuckle and clearly wanted to reply, if it wasn’t for the innocent, polite waiter coming over with the bill.

Carol paid hurriedly, and you took the chance to rub your own leg against hers. Your skin was hot, sweaty, heated from your orgasm, and you could finally, finally, notice Carol losing her own cool.

“You seem a little overheated,” you commented, feeling more confident now that you had come. The waiter had left and she was grabbing her purse, fixing her hair, “are you sure you don’t want to take some ice cream home?”

Her eyes blazed, pulled you out of the booth, and said,

“There’s plenty of it at home. And you’ll be begging for seconds before the night is done, young lady.”

A/N: I’m going straight to hell, but that’s okay. Love y’all~

taglist: @the-obscurity​

[athys-obelia]

[ 1 • 2 ]

"have you ever fallen in love?"

two years after tlp!athy's execution, tlp!claude knows he stands mere months away from death.

he still remembers that first sudden stroke, the one that robbed him of most of his physical strength and mana - it is a bodily illness, the medics say, but after all, he is no stranger to curses.

it is all bearable, though - everything is bearable as along as his athanasia is beside him, after all. her kind smile, her free eyes so unlike his. claude de alger obelia is not afraid of death, never has been.

the absurdity of his inquiry strikes him with his daughter's startled expression, and he elaborates, "your mother - she used to say that if nothing else, she wanted you to fall in love. wholly and truly, with someone who understands and accepts you as you deserve to be understood and accepted. so i ask - have you, athanasia, ever been in love?"

the question resounds, echoing off of the walls of the obelian imperial family's mausoleum. jennette would hate this, him secretly leaving the palace to come here of all places, but he needs to see. how have his children constructed his final resting place? he had barely shown up to his own father's funeral.

"twice," athanasia answers, as he had known she would.

his hand trails over the gold crest of the empire on the door, the coolness of the metal lingering on the pads of his fingers. his chest pains so very much now that he's away from jennette, but he can't react. shouldn't react. athanasia would fret and worry herself to her own death before his, and his child's funeral is not something claude wants to witness. "twice?" he presses for details, voice barely above a whisper, lest she hear the pain searing through his chest.

almost as if sensing his hesitance, his veiled unease, she steps into the mausoleum before him. claude follows.

"he was like the moon, one of them," she tells him, the words whispered carefully as if the princess were scared of the ghosts of her ancestors overhearing. "enchanting. kind. he inspired me to start writing songs again - the ones jennette found in my room, remember, papa?"

"ah, yes - the ones she gave to the alpheus boy." claude approaches his casket, raising an eyebrow at it. "and yet you never mentioned him to me. i could've had you married." he traces the fine lettering on the stone - his name was already engraved into the marble, along with all his titles. claude's eyes linger on 'father'.

"you could've," she agrees, "but he was not worth the sacrifice, was not worth family. my fate, like everyone else's, was to admire him from afar."

"and this other great love of yours?"

"complicated," athanasia lets out a humourless laugh, "he was more like the sun, actually."

claude really doesn't have it in him to hide his smirk - even athanasia wouldn't be brave enough to liken someone other than him to the sun. "was he, now?"

"yes! bright and strong and warm, everything i ever wanted, and...so very far away."

he frowns, nose crinkling at the familiar scent of roses. "what does that mean?" claude turns then, to find the source of the floral odour.

to claude's right is a smaller casket, the lead of which bears the beautiful insignia exclusive to the crown heir. a single red rose - from jennette's garden, he recognizes - lays against the lid. beloved daughter and sister, it reads. princess athanasia de alger obelia.

the lid of his own casket rests against its side - hers is shut, tight. the ache in his chest spikes, triggering a violent coughing fit. his handkerchief clutched in his trembling hands, claude stares at the splotches of red.

athanasia chuckles dryly. "i didn't even get a chance to beg! so bright he was, his own light blinding him to the truth."

strength abandons his legs and his knees buckle, leaving the emperor of the world's strongest empire on his knees against the cold, hard floor. claude inhales shakily, fingers gripping the coffin with whitened knuckles.

"wh- what nonsense is this?" he manages to croak out weakly, eyes unable to look away from the name.

athanasia leans down, inches away from his shocked face. "all i ever wanted was to be your shadow, your anchor, your student. i wanted your love, too, so that i could return it tenfold. but you - you were so, so strong, papa. and strong emperors don't need weaklings like me at their side, do they?"

he stares as she leans down to brush hair out of his face, the touch nothing but a soft breeze. "shut up- shut up. i don't want to hear this anymore. i don't know what's-"

she smiles sweetly. "i used to think about you a lot, you know - 'i have the strongest papa in the world' i'd tell lily. you were my pride! they don't call you the sun for nothing, though, i suppose."

her words stir up a distinct...vision? a memory? he can feel the image forming. claude's hand shoots up to claw at his chest, trying to free some of the heat, get some air.

yes, he remembers a blade, now.

"you," athanasia calls joyously, as if she were some royal announcer, "need to come with a warning label. the people's hero, the hardworking emperor, the wise ruler! does everyone who get too close to you burn, papa?"

"guards," he calls weakly, "call the guards."

it's almost as if he can feel the life slipping out of him, but the image returns. was it an execution? a public execution? the crowd seems restless, uncomfortable. beside the chopping block lays a young girl.

"do you regret it?" athanasia asks curiously.

claude watches the executioner's cold eyes and he know exactly what is about to happen to the girl. obediently, she lays her head where the man directs it, already lifeless.

"yes!" he cries as the man's sword rises in a sharp, practised move. claude shuts his eyes, wanting nothing more than for the scene to disappear. but over, and over, and over, the girl dies. the blade falls. the townspeople cry. felix's hands keep bleeding, fisted around his own sword to keep himself in place. "so fucking much, just, please, make it stop-"

"i meant," athanasia corrects with a light grin, "did you regret hiring an executioner? tell me the truth, now, papa, haven't you always wished that sword, that hand was your own?"

he wants to negate her claim, wants to tell her no, he would never, he'd rather end himself - but the words are stuck. the air thickens.

her thumb brushes against his pale cheek. "you're dying now, aren't you? did i at least answer your question properly?"

the image of her blurs.

"if mama asks, you can tell her i did love," athanasia whispers, as if lulling a child to sleep, "i've loved twice. tell her that for one of them, i didn't dare chance a thing - and for the other, i risked it all."

® all rights reserved, do not repost without permission

[imo-chan-imagines]

『 As your boyfriend | FKBU Headcanons 』

Characters: female!reader, Kambe Daisuke, Kato Haru

Tags/warnings: Fugou Keiji Balance: Unlimited (anime), 18+, strong sexual references, fluff, angst, Haru's PTSD, headcanons, daddy kink and cockwarming (kind of?) for Daisuke, breeding kink for Haru *coughing intensifies*

⚠�� 18+ CONTENT! MINORS: PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT ⚠️

A/N: Felt like writing some more for these boys because ~holy shit~ do I love them, and I maybe went a teensy bit overboard. Oopsie! 🤭 But anyway, have y'all seen episode 6?! Let's freaking gooo! (No spoilers, don't worry) Thanks for reading! Enjoy! Imo~

Kambe Daisuke

First up: daddy kink. I know it, you know it, we all know it. So let's not beat about the bush

Quite dominant and firm with you (see: daddy kink)

But he absolutely loves spoiling you

Expensive gifts, like one-of-a-kind necklaces, seductive perfumes, satin dresses, lace underwear, etc.

He loves dressing you up and showing you off

But he also loves spoiling you in bed more like ruining, I am deceased

A lot of butt grabbing in public hnng

He likes it when you don't wear any underwear because it makes for easier quickies like bent over the sink in the bathroom at his favourite club

He likes you sitting on his lap in front of people, too aye papi

American gangster vibes, honestly

He's not really one for soppy, romantic PDA, but he loves you letting people know that it's him you want and nobody else

He loves the look on people's faces when you call him 'daddy' that grin will be the death of me

Especially the look on Haru's face, lmao. He blushed like a tomato and couldn't speak a coherent sentence for a whole hour

Hickeys. Lots and lots of hickeys. And don't even think about covering them up

Daisuke loves sleeping naked and has a habit of walking around the house in just a towel when he gets out the shower fight me

He's also completely oblivious to what it does to you

A MASSIVE bed with super soft, satiny sheets. They feel like clouds uwu

He gets HEUSC to remind him of important dates, like birthdays, anniversaries, etc.

Date Ideas: Unlimited sorry, not sorry

From fancy restaurants, to exclusive movie premieres, to late night helicopter rides to the other side of the country, Daisuke can and will pay for anything if it makes you happy

He also lets you introduce him to lots of new things, like trying different kinds of street food on dates, going rowing on the pond in the park, having a go at karaoke, renting bikes and cycling round the city, going hiking at the nearest nature reserve or wilderness, etc. adorable

He's like a curious kitten when he's trying new things, putting a lot of trust in you to guide him through it

He always looks perfect in the photos you snap, even the ones he wasn't aware you were taking, and it's a lowkey frustrating that he nearly always looks prettier than you

But it's not his fault, so you'll only pout for a little while

His face is pretty hard to read most of the time, but you eventually get used to it and pick up on all his little mood indicators

His ears move when he's happy, and you can't convince me otherwise

He'll hold your heels for you when your feet hurt on a night out

He smells of leather and sandalwood, and his kisses taste of expensive whisky and cigars

He loves it when you bite his lower lip while making out

He's kind of possessive, but in a protective way

He never thought of himself as a particularly jealous person, until one night he came back to the bar and saw some other guy hitting on you the attention was definitely unwanted on your side

It made his blood boil – clenched fists, piercing glare if looks could kill

But he managed to stay calm and maturely tell the guy to get lost, with his arm snaking round your waist

Daisuke made it very clear that it wasn't you he didn't trust. It was that he didn't trust that guy – or any guy, for that matter

His favourite ~position~ is on a table or other surface with your legs over his shoulders

He's a god at eating you out

He's a god at everything in the bedroom, tbh

Saint Laurent condoms, because he's that fucking extra I'm screaming

His hair always falls out of place when you're fucking it's so hot and cute, wtf

It's a lot of glitz and glamour on the surface, but when it's just the two of you, you know just how much you mean to him

The King of Aftercare™

He used to suck at aftercare until he properly tried it. Then he realised that he needed it as much as you did le cry

Back rubs, forehead kisses, playing with your hair, soft whispers in your ear

He holds you so tightly that it gets hard to breathe, and you can feel his heart beating hard against your back

Sometimes he likes to just stay inside you after finishing

He enjoys the feeling of you around him, and honestly, you like just feeling him being inside you cockwarming, kind of?

Soft little nuzzles with his nose in his sleep even better when he's fallen asleep while still inside you

He's not perfect, but being with you makes him try to be better

Help, my heart's so full 🤧

Kato Haru

This man is a sweetie pie, honestly

Not just boyfriend material, but husband material put a ring on it, hun

Lots of home cooking, and it all tastes so good you honestly believe he could just quit being a cop and open up a restaurant

He loves cooking with you, too. It's fun bonding time

Sometimes he stands behind you and guides your hands etc. it sometimes goes a little further, if ya know what I'm saying 👀

Knows how to do all the chores and housework, and actually does his share look at my practical hubby

Random pillow fights that turn into cuddle sessions

He talks in his sleep waaahh, so cute

Sometimes it's utter nonsense, like 'Don't let the donuts escape'

Other times, it's things like, 'I love Y/N so much,' or 'Let's have babies,' while he's holding onto you, and you just melt

Spooning. So much spooning

Lots of budget date ideas, like building pillow forts, watching sunsets and stargazing from the balcony, going for hikes and runs together, going for picnics, feeding ducks at the pond, etc.

One time, a duck chased him around the pond because he had the bread, and he had to run for 20 minutes before it gave up thank God for all that cardio

The Master of Flat Pack Furniture™ – because he takes his time and actually reads the instructions

Daisuke had a ™ so Haru needed one too

Takes good care of you on your period and actually knows about different sanitary products

He smells really fresh and clean, like Imperial Leather soap and air-dried laundry as long as he hasn't been on a stakeout, lmao

He loves taking showers with you, but like, actual showers

The first and only time you had shower sex was hot and steamy until:

1. You realised that water does not a good lube make and 2. He slipped and accidentally shoved his dick in your ass instead

You fully passed out, and he was so frantic that he bundled you into the car and drove you straight to the ER you were in just a towel, might I add

You both look back on it now and laugh, but he was genuinely scared

Shower sex = never again

But he loves it when you straddle his lap and start grinding on him bonus points if you kiss his neck and run your hands through his hair

He's a pretty vanilla boy when it comes to sex, preferring positions like missionary and cowgirl, and liking a fairly even balance of power

He got super embarrassed and flustered when he finally mustered up the courage to suggest having car sex

And then even more embarrassed and flustered when you actually ended up doing it

He was blushing so hard the entire time and came really quickly, which only added to his embarrassment but you thought it was cute

He has really sensitive nipples which you use to your advantage

He absolutely loves hates it when you send him nudes or try and sext him while he's at work, because he gets a massive boner and will either have to live with it and probably get laughed at by those goobs in the office, or deal with it in the bathroom, which feels wrong to him on so many levels

Doesn't really stop you sending them though, because whenever you do, he comes home and fucks you really well

One thing that's not vanilla about him is how much he likes cumming inside you breeding kink, welcome to the party. Please take a seat

He didn't tell you about it for the longest time because he was embarrassed about it and was afraid you'd think it was gross or something please cum in me, sir

He was so relieved when you were understanding about it and open to the idea of indulging him

But he genuinely really wants kids some day he'd be a great dad

His PTSD doesn't stop him being a good boyfriend, but he's convinced that it does

Most days he seems okay, like he's over it, even

But sometimes you'll wake up in the middle of the night and find him curled up in the bath, shaking and crying into his knees my poor baby, I can't

Excuse me while I go and cry into my pillow for a while

You're his safety net

When he feels like he's drowning, you keep his head above the water until the waves eventually calm and recede, and he can breathe again

He hates putting so much on your shoulders

But you swear to him that you wouldn't want to be doing anything else, and that you're not going anywhere

This got so angsty, my heart can't take this 😭

© imo-chan-imagines 2020

[primatechnosynthpop]

Wow! Against all odds, I finally got around to actually writing the follow-up to I'm Gonna Be The Anti-Hero that's existed exclusively in my head for months! Well uh here it is :3

---

The secret underground room beneath Plymouth rock was dark and silent as always, save for the faint dripping of water through a crack in the ceiling. It figured that, after living there for countless centuries, the structural integrity would finally begin to erode. That dripping sound, although highly irritating when it first started a month or so ago, had now settled into background noise which John Smith paid no attention to. He was a pilgrim, not a witch; it wasn't like the water could hurt him.

Then again, he realized a few moments too late one rainy spring day, perhaps he should have reevaluated that statement. He was minding his own business sitting in his chair and reminiscing about the very old days (that was the only thing he could really do anymore, slowly decaying as his body was) when the soft and steady dripping suddenly escalated at an exponential rate into what sounded like a small waterfall. He turned his head to see a semi-transparent humanoid figure taking shape out of the water pooling in the corner--strangely tinted red, as though the water were mixed with blood. As the old pilgrim watched, jaw agape, the figure strode purposefully toward him, taking on a more solid form as it did so.

"What are you doing here, intruder?" John Smith demanded, one hand tightening around the hilt of his sword while his other hand reached behind his back to fumble for his musket.

"This secret underground room isn't government sanctioned," the stranger hissed. (Although... was he a stranger? John Smith somehow felt that he'd seen this youngster once before, but he couldn't quite place where or when.) "And you have no official identification registering you as a legal citizen. Not to mention, you haven't been paying taxes... disgraceful."

Before John Smith had the chance to concoct a retort or draw either of his weapons, the masked man's hands were around his throat and crushing his windpipe with a force that could only be driven by an inhuman amount of bloodlust. And within seconds, the life of a pilgrim that had been extended for centuries past its expiration date was finally put to an end.

*

"I can't believe they want us to make a clown movie at a time like this."

"I can believe it," Neil replied without looking up from the shopping list in his hand. "The studio wants a lot from us, remember? They're not going to care how sad we are. Anyway, it's been four months--" The emotions bubbling up within him refused to let his voice stay level, so he gritted his teeth and hissed out the rest of his sentence rather than let himself start crying in the middle of the dollar store. "We should be over it by now."

"Neil..." Kevin began in the way he'd often addressed Neil over the past few months--brow furrowed, voice edged with an obvious and vaguely patronizing concern--only to trail off and shake his head with a sigh. Apparently he'd finally given up on trying to make Neil feel better, which was just fine by him, because things are never gonna go back to the way they were before and it's my fault and I don't deserve to feel good about it.

"Anyway, we've got what we came for," Neil muttered, waving his hand in the general direction of Kevin's shopping basket without looking him in the eyes. "Let's go."

At the checkout counter, the cashier frowned and shook her head when Neil offered her a five-dollar bill. "Sorry," she told them, "But all this is going to cost $29.99."

"What? But we don't have that kind of money!" Neil lamented. "And we got this stuff from the clearance section... plus this is the dollar store, so shouldn't everything just cost a dollar?"

For a visual aid as he spoke, he grabbed one of the items they were ringing up--a bargain pack of multicoloured clown wigs--and shook it in the cashier's face. Apparently unmoved by his bargaining, she pursed her lips and crossed her arms.

"Maybe you should have checked the price tags first, sir."

"Huh? But, but..." Neil trailed off when he looked down at the price tag on the item in his hands. The bright orange tag had the original price, $7.50, crossed out and replaced with $2.35... but then below that, scribbled in tiny and barely legible font, it read "just kidding, it's actually eleven dollars now." "Aw, man," he groaned, tossing the pack down on the conveyor belt and sticking his hands in his pockets. "Just our luck."

Kevin had a thoughtful look in his eyes while he drove them home empty-handed. When he pulled up outside the clubhouse a few minutes later and they climbed out of the truck, he suddenly laid a hand on Neil's shoulder.

"Say, Neil, let's not get discouraged," he said. "I've got another idea for how we could get our hands on some props."

"Really?" Neil asked, perking up despite himself. "How?"

"Well, I think--" Kevin broke off as unexpectedly as he'd started, encouraging smile briefly dipping into a grimace. "...You know what, I'll take care of it myself. You can hold down the fort here, okay? I won't be long."

Neil's brow furrowed. "Okay, but what are you...?"

Without explaining himself any further, Kevin clapped him firmly on the back, hopped back into his truck, and drove off. Neil watched him recede down the road with bewilderment. Being all secretive like that wasn't like Kevin... Unless he's trying to protect me from something, he realized with a twinge of bitterness. That would be just like him, the way things had been recently. Ever since the past winter, and what had happened with Ryan, Kevin's latent big-brother-ish tendencies had escalated; now he watched over Neil like a hawk and freaked out every time he so much as stubbed his toe. Under different circumstances Neil would have relished being fussed over, but now it was more annoying than anything else. The thing was, he didn't deserve it. If anything... his fingers strayed up to absentmindedly fidget with the four-leaf clover pinned to his shirt. I deserve to have bad luck. I deserve to suffer, after what I did to Ryan.

Still, there wasn't much he could do about it now, and he wasn't going to say no to having the clubhouse to himself for a while. With a sigh, he disentangled his fingers from the clover's leaves, ran a hand through his overgrown bangs, and turned to head inside. Maybe he could play cards or something to pass the time.

*

A thick layer of dust had settled over everything in Ryan's house. That made sense, of course. It had been four months--no, five, since Ryan hadn't come home once while he was being a vigilante--since anyone had set foot there. Even so, Kevin was unprepared for the full-scale assault on his lungs when he opened the door, and promptly broke into a coughing fit.

"Man, good thing Neil stayed home," he thought aloud as he batted thick, swirling clouds of dust and spiderwebs out of his face. "The way things have been going for him lately..."

He'd probably choke to death on all this dust, he thought but didn't say aloud, and then felt bad for thinking it in the first place. Kevin didn't understand what had happened to Neil in the course of the past few days, but ever since picking up that clover, he seemed to be having a run of uncharacteristically bad luck. Whether it was random chance or something more suspicious was afoot, it sure wasn't doing much for his already thoroughly frayed nerves.

"Alright, calm down, James," he muttered to himself, shaking his head to clear his thoughts and ideally dispel the rest of the dust. "Focus. Concentrate. What are you here for? Props for your webisode. Right."

Keeping that objective in mind, he made his way past the front entrance and into the living room. There, a few objects were strewn around that caught his eye: a mannequin bust wearing a colourful wig; an eccentrically patterned jacket draped over a chair; a brush dipped into a rusted metal container filled with what he hoped was red paint. After looking around a little more he found a large cardboard box filled with mutilated stuffed animals, which he mostly emptied out and started filling with the useful items he came across.

All the while, a persistent feeling of unease stirred in his gut, becoming increasingly hard to ignore with each belonging of Ryan's he packed away. This is wrong. I shouldn't steal from him. Kevin paused and looked down at the box in his arms with a frown. One of the items sticking out the top, a blank-faced doll head, seemed to stare accusingly back at him. For a moment he saw it not as a plastic figure, but as a human form encased in ice and then broken apart. He blinked and the illusion quickly vanished, but an unsettling feeling remained in its wake. Neil was right; it had been months already. So why did going through Ryan's things make him feel so dirty? Ryan didn't need any of this stuff anymore. He was gone. Wasn't he?

With a weary sigh that, had anyone been around to ask, he would have accredited to the physical exertion of carrying heavy stuff around, Kevin set the box down and stepped back to survey the room he was in now. If he remembered right, this kind of room was called a study--there was an armchair with a few suspicious stains lurking beneath the dust, a desk strewn with papers all scrawled full of nonsense like the ravings of a mad scientist, and an ornate bookshelf. He wandered over to the latter furniture piece and ran his hands along the spines of the books, letting their leathery texture ground him in the present. He noticed several unusual bibles and other ancient texts, and a stash of calendars, some of which he was pretty sure had originally belonged to him or Neil; the up-to-date calendars and one of the more normal-looking bibles went into the box, while he decided everything else was better left where it was.

There was one other set of books he recognized: a teen fantasy series that Neil had often gushed about. Thinking back to the previous fall and all the events he normally tried not to think about, he experimentally lifted one of the fantasy books off the shelf. At once, just as he remembered from when Neil showed him, the bookshelf rumbled to the side and revealed a narrow staircase descending into the basement.

If anyone asked him, Kevin couldn't really say what compelled him to go down those stairs. The secret chamber was as empty as he remembered, with nothing down there that could possibly be of use for the webisode. And without a lantern, he could barely even see the only things that were there to speak of: the paintings of Ryan's ancestors.

"Ryan..." The name manifested on Kevin's lips unexpectedly as he stared, squinting through the dust and darkness, at the row of portraits grinning lopsidedly back at him. He knew the paintings couldn't hear him--hell, they weren't even paintings of Ryan himself, just his relatives. But their faces were practically identical to him, that face he hadn't seen in person for nearly half a year, and that alone was enough to clog up his throat with unbearable emotions.

The thought of It's a good thing Neil isn't here for this surfaced again, and this time Kevin had to agree with himself. Losing a close friend was... well, there was no way not to take it hard. But Neil seemed to have taken it particularly hard, even blaming himself, to the point where any mention of Ryan would immediately send him straight back into a depressive spiral no matter how happy he'd been a moment earlier. That was why Kevin had kept this idea a secret from his friend in the first place--that, and he wasn't sure if it was going to pan out and didn't want to get Neil's hopes up. He figured that if Neil asked where he got all the stuff he'd found, he'd just say it was from a garage sale.

Now, looking into the achingly familiar manic blue eyes of those portraits mounted on the wall, Kevin thought of those news reports about the mysterious killings that had been going on around town. If that really was Ryan, and he was somehow still alive...

"Why?" he whispered. Without really thinking, he reached out and pressed his hand against the painting as if to cup its cheek. "Why haven't you come home, Ryan? Where are you?"

*

The target was at home, alone in her bedroom playing video games. Casual, unbothered by any harm her actions may have caused. Shameful. In an icy swirl of perhaps not-so-righteous fury, the vigilante took form in the corner of her room and crept up behind her. With an average build and no weapons at the ready, she would be no trouble to dispose of.

"Playing dead in order to toy with an innocent man's feelings," he growled. "Some people would call it ghosting. I call it a crime punishable by death."

"Jesus christ, what the fuck?!" Wendy yelped as she spun to face the vigilante. "How'd you get in here?"

"You shouldn't worry about that," he told her, gloved hands already flexing in anticipation of tightening around her neck. Or perhaps this time he'd thrust his hand straight through her chest and rip out her heart--an appropriate punishment for her crimes. "You'll have plenty of time to figure it out once I send you to hell."

"Okay, seriously? What is happening here?" Eyes narrowed, Wendy put her game on pause and got to her feet to stare the vigilante down. "You said something about me playing dead..." Her eyes suddenly widened with recognition, and the vigilante waited for the fear to set in along with it, but instead she shook her head and laughed. A pitying laugh. "Wait, you're not friends with that, uh, that filmmaker guy, are you? Geez, I seriously must have dodged a bullet there."

"Filmmaker..." the vigilante murmured as the word echoed in his mind. Yes, that's right. The man she stood up was a filmmaker... of a sort. (How did he know that? How did he even know who this woman was? Those questions weren't worth dwelling on, he decided.) "You may have thought you dodged a bullet back then, but I'm here to see that the bullet circles back around and destroys you like you deserve."

Wendy crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow, any trace of fear on her face outmatched by her sad, pitying smile. "Sure, keep the edgy sayings coming, Mr. Hot Topic. And what's with the getup, anyway?" she added with a nod to the vigilante's predominantly dark outfit. "Must be kinda warm."

Warm? The vigilante snorted derisively. No, of course he wasn't too warm. His blood, as it always had for as far back as he could clearly remember, ran cold like that of a snake. He couldn't remember a time when he'd been warm. And he certainly couldn't remember a time when he'd worn anything other than his current ensemble. Rather than waste time telling this insufferable woman as much, though, he simply took a few purposeful strides to close the distance between them, hands extended and more than ready to kill.

"Ugh, get away from me, creep!"

In a startlingly swift motion, Wendy's leg shot out and connected with the vigilante's ankles, sending him toppling to the floor. He hissed in irration, though not in pain--when his sensations were already perpetually numb, it would take a lot more than that to hurt him--and got to his feet, dusting himself off with a scowl. In the few seconds this took, Wendy grabbed a baseball bat from the corner of the room. Now she stood brandishing it in perfect athletic form with a battle-ready glint in her eye.

"Not another step, you hear me?" When the vigilante didn't dignify her with a response, she gritted her teeth and gave the bat a twirl--attempting to show off, it seemed, but her hands shook slightly and she nearly dropped the bat, only barely managing to regain her grip on it. "My mom is in the other room right now, and... well, she hasn't done anything wrong, so you don't want to punish her, right? And if anything happens to me..."

He stiffened at Wendy's mention of her mother. An innocent citizen? That was the type of person a vigilante was meant to protect at all costs; otherwise vigilante justice was no better than the police. But no one is innocent in this city. Even so, he understood the implicit threat--not that Wendy's mother would bring him down herself, but that either woman could very well call the police. And the last thing he wanted was to get law enforcement involved.

"...Fine," he snarled at last, turning on his heel with a twirl of his vigilante cape. "You can live a while longer. But I'll be back, and then you'll regret your sins."

He heard her gasp but didn't bother sparing her another glance as he let his form dissolve into a splash of red-tinted ice, sinking through her floorboards and off to thwart another criminal.

*

Slowly and carefully as a technician deactivating a bomb, Neil set the three of spades down across the top of the three other cards he'd lined up on the table. The humble beginnings of a tower stood for a moment, and he held his breath eagerly as he reached for another card to place on top, only for it to suddenly shudder and collapse like an anime girl who'd stood in the rain for too long.

"Dang it!" Neil threw his hands in the air in exasperation. When he did, a droplet of his own blood landed on his glasses, and he realized with a start that his hand was bleeding--just a paper cut, but still, he'd better wash up.

As he ran his hand under cold water, transfixed by the sight of the blood swirling down the drain, a sudden cracking noise rang out just above him. His head snapped up to stare at the spontaneously cracked bathroom mirror. His reflection stared back, stricken and gaunt, as shards of shattered glass rained down into the sink, where they mixed with the water and the blood. Neil shivered, his breath quickening.

Icy water... ice, blood, broken mirrors. All mixed together. Shattered. Blood, guts, ice, mixed together, down the drain. My fault my fault my fault my fault--

"No," he whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut and digging his nails into his scalp as hard as he could. "No! I didn't do it, I didn't... I didn't mean to..."

Deep breaths, a voice in the back of his head reminded him. It sounded like Kevin's voice, worried to the point of being slightly patronizing. Neil grimaced, annoyed at his own brain for manifesting its self-preservation in such a way, but he complied nonetheless. Keeping his eyes wrenched shut, he took several deep breaths in and out until his heartbeat slowed to normal--he hadn't even noticed it speeding up--and his hands didn't shake when he lowered them away from his head.

"Hey, you know what'd really make me feel better?" he said aloud to nobody in particular, putting on a broad smile and wiping his hands off on a towel. "A nice hot bath! Yep, that'll counteract my blood running cold, alright..."

He ran his hands up and down his arms as he spoke, although he didn't know who he was trying to fool; the chill that had settled into his bones had nothing to do with the temperature. In fact, he wasn't entirely sure who this whole performance of forced cheerfulness was meant for... the studio, maybe. He wouldn't put it past them to hide cameras everywhere. Either way, even if it wouldn't fix his psychological issues, a bath really would be pretty nice. He put the plug in and started running the tub, with the water temperature set just hot enough that it would scald him a little at first.

He wasn't sure exactly what happened when he sat down on the edge of the tub to take his socks off, whether he slipped on something or leaned too far back or what, but suddenly he lost balance. And by the time he realized he was falling backward, he only had a split-second to curse his rotten luck before his head connected with the wall and he blacked out.

*

In the end, Kevin managed to get a pretty good haul from Ryan's house. In addition to the stuff he and Neil could use for their webisode, he'd retrieved the calendars and a couple other things it looked like Ryan had stolen from them, as well as their old communicator wristwatches. (He wasn't sure if the watches fell into the camp of things Ryan had stolen, or if they'd just brought them over to his place for a sleepover once and forgotten them there. Either way, Kevin figured it could come in handy to start using them again.)

"Hey, Neil," he called as he stepped into the clubhouse with the box in his arms and kicked the door shut behind him. "I'm back."

There was no reply. Frowning, Kevin set the box down with a slight grunt of effort and wandered through the living room and down the hall. There were a few playing cards scattered on the table, suggesting that Neil had been trying to make a house of cards but given up halfway. Kevin couldn't really blame him for that; assembling cards in such a way that they'd actually stay upright was yet another thing that had been more in Ryan's ballpark than in either of theirs. Still, that didn't explain where Neil was now...

"Neil? You there, bud?" Still being met with no answer, Kevin came to a stop outside the bathroom door, which was ajar with water pooling out from inside. "Oh, man, that's not a good sign..."

He gave a tentative knock, and when there was still no response, grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. The sight that met his eyes when he did so immediately made his breath hitch and his blood run cold. The broken mirror over the vanity reflected his slack-jawed expression as he stared at the overflowing bathtub, the pair of still-clothed legs dangling over the rim, and the smudge of blood on the wall leading down to the head of the man those legs belonged to, slumped inside the tub with his head submerged in the water.

"Neil!!"

Kevin sprinted across the room to lift Neil out of the tub. It then took him a few seconds longer to turn off the faucet and pull the plug, as by that point the shock had turned to dread and his hands were shaking. Once the water was slowly starting to drain, he fell to his knees and pulled Neil tight to his chest, one hand clutching at the back of his soaked-through t-shirt while the other fumbled across the back of his head searching for the source of the blood. It didn't take long for him to find the slightly matted patch of damp hair indicating where Neil had banged his head against the wall. Kevin swallowed hard as dread leapt up to claw at his throat. The only question is... how long was he submerged?

"Neil," he whispered, and was almost embarrassed to hear how hoarsely his own voice came out. "Wake up. Please."

No response. Kevin reluctantly pulled back to hold Neil at an arm's length, and shuddered at how limply his friend's body flopped forward. He noticed, with a white-hot jolt of irrational anger, that the four-leaf clover was still in place. Fat lot of good that thing's done for him. He grabbed the clover and crumpled it in his fist, all the while tears pressed against the back of his eyes; he struggled not to let them fall. Damn it... first Ryan, now Neil... What kind of protector was he? What kind of friend?

He slammed his fist, the useless clover still clenched within, against the drenched floor tiles. At that moment, the lightbulb above his head exploded and sent sparking wires raining down around him. As soon as electricity met water, it sent a nasty shock through Kevin's veins; he screamed out of equal parts surprise and pain and scrambled up onto the countertop, which was barely wide enough to support him.

On the floor below, Neil's body convulsed. Then his eyes snapped open and he drew in a gasp that turned into a scream halfway through. Although touching his friend's hand sent the current through his own body for a moment, Kevin was quick to grab him anyway, and he managed to pull Neil safely out of the electrified water and into a fierce embrace. Neil kept shrieking, and he squirmed frantically around, not seeming to recognize his surroundings at first.

"It's alright, Neil," Kevin assured him despite how hard his own heart was pounding. "I've got you."

"Oh..." Neil's body slackened, and he pulled back to blink slowly at Kevin, realization dawning in his eyes. His cheeks coloured with embarrassment and he ducked his head. "Uh, thanks."

Neither of them said anything else, for lack of ability or perhaps willingness to put it into words. After a moment, Kevin realized he was still holding the clover, and he handed it back to Neil, who took it with a dip of his head and a murmur of acknowledgement, and pinned it to his soaking wet t-shirt.

Somehow out of everything in the room, themselves included, that little scrap of plant matter was still intact. And although he wasn't superstitious, that simple fact was what would stick in Kevin's mind for the rest of the day, turning it over until he could only conclude: Yep, there's definitely something weird going on with that thing.

*

Despite the many months he'd prowled the city, this was the vigilante's first time in the hideout of a proper gang. It looked about the way he expected: dimly lit, no windows, weapons hung up on the wall and cigarette butts littering the floor. The gang members, dressed primarily in leather jackets with a few in denim, lounged in chairs leaning too far back, or on top of tables, or on their motorcycles parked right in the middle of the room. Most of them didn't even notice the vigilante as he approached. They were too caught up chattering and cackling amongst themselves like a nest of overgrown crows. The one gang member who did seem to notice the vigilante from the get-go simply looked up at him with raised eyebrows and addressed him once he got close enough to strike.

"Hey, haven't seen you around before. Looking to join the club?"

"Hardly," he snarled. "This whole place is crawling with criminals."

The whole room broke into laughter at that. The vigilante gritted his teeth, fists clenching at his sides. These people were different from the criminals he'd taken down before; between their numbers and all the weapons they had easy access to, they might just pose a serious threat if he wasn't careful.

"You're the ones, aren't you?" he went on once the laughter had died down and the gang members were all watching him with a mix of bemusement and curiosity. No trace of fear amongst them yet, but that would change... "Throwing bricks at innocent people, even seeking to damage their property. Absolutely detestable."

"Woah, hang on," another of the gang members cut in sharply, reaching for a weapon as they stood. "First off, the whole brick throwing thing was months ago. Second of all, we never did that to innocent people, you know!"

"Yeah!" yet another gang member cut in, pumping her fist in the air. "Only to those losers who blew up our boss!"

...Boss?

The vigilante slowly turned, a deeper chill than normal running down his spine, as a strangely familiar smug cackle echoed from behind him. He came face-to-face with a man in a tank top and baseball cap, sneering at him with his arms crossed. Max. Gulping, the vigilante took a step backward. He's their boss?

(How did he know that name? How had he known Wendy's name either, for that matter? Why, out of all the criminals in the city, did a select few ignite disproportionate resentment within him? He'd dealt with some of these people before, he knew, but when he tried to remember when and how it all just turned to slush in his brain.)

"Yep, those losers got what was coming to 'em," Max said. "Except not really, 'cause they didn't suffer enough. But it's okay, we'll get 'em extra hard next time."

"No..." For reasons he couldn't quite explain, the vigilante's voice shook with equal parts fury and sudden fear. "Don't you dare hurt them."

"Huh?" Max tilted his head, already slightly squinted eyes narrowing further. "Heyyy, wait a minute, aren't you one of--?"

Before he could finish that thought, the vigilante was upon him with a karate chop to the windpipe. It was a more reckless attack than he'd planned, and even as Max stumbled backward coughing, he could hear the rest of the gang grabbing their weapons and running up behind him. But it was fine; the vigilante could take them all on and then some. He could kill any number of people if it was for the sake of defending his friends.

(Friends? Did he have friends? Somehow it felt that he must have, once. But that was strange, because the only thing he could clearly remember himself ever being was a cold-blooded vigilante.)

*

"Don't you see? Society's the one to blame! It's society's fault that he had no choice but to become this way!"

As Kevin delivered this speech, waving his arms dramatically toward the focus of the scene, Neil spun the video camera around to point it toward himself. Hopefully the studio would think of the disorienting cinematography for this webisode as a bold artistic choice rather than thinking of it as amateurish and embarrassing. He then leapt back, breaking into maniacal laughter with his prop gun raised in the air. Under ideal circumstances, this role might have been better suited to Ryan, but... well, they couldn't stay hung up on him forever; they had a job to do.

"Eh-heh-heh! Thanks to society, I have the urge to kill!" Neil twirled around to show off his clown costume, while just out of frame, Kevin hastily put on a wig and fake mustache. "And now... I'll kill this innocent man, who's different than the guy who was talking a minute ago!"

(It was fascinating--fascinating and dumb--how a broken mirror and a bit of blood could set him off, but something as heavy as a gun in his hand only brought him the faintest twinge of discomfort, easily ignored for the sake of making a webisode. After all, as Kevin had assured him many times over the past few months, it was the gun and its villainous weilder who were to blame for what had happened to Ryan. On an intellectual level Neil knew that was true--and besides, if he hadn't deflected that bullet, all three of them would have died. But knowing that did nothing to redirect when and why the darkness in his brain manifested.)

Now, much to Neil's surprise as he took aim with his prop gun, Kevin shouted "Cut!" and walked across the abandoned lot they were filming in to turn the camera off.

Neil lowered the gun, confused, as his costar removed his costume with that now all-too-familiar look of concern etched across his face. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know... somehow I've just got a bad feeling about this," Kevin muttered. "Maybe try firing into the air a couple times first."

Neil complied, and was met with the expected result from the prop: a couple of clicks indicating an empty chamber. "You worry too much these days, Kev," he said as he fired one more blank into the sky and then lowered the prop again. "It's not a real gun; it can't--"

As he spoke, his finger accidentally pressed the trigger again, and he broke off with a yelp at the sudden burst of pain in his right foot. He dropped the apparently very real gun with a clatter and clutched at his injured appendage, losing his balance in the process. Kevin swore under his breath and rushed forward to catch him. Before his friend could reach him, Neil's other foot came down on a wide crack in the pavement. A chill ran through him, momentarily distracting him from the throbbing pain, but it passed as quickly as it arose without seeming to trigger any effects.

"By god, what's happening to you?" Kevin exclaimed as he grabbed Neil by the shoulders and held him upright. "You've been so unlucky lately, it... it almost seems like a curse."

"A curse?" Neil stiffened, but quickly forced himself to shrug and morphed his grimace into a dismissive eye-roll. "Pfft, what are you talking about? There's no curse! I've just been, y'know, having an off-day..."

"Neil." There was that concerned look again, that almost parental tone of voice, as Kevin stared him down and tightened his grip on Neil's shoulders. "A couple hours ago you almost died, and now... you can tell something weird is going on, right? And, look--" He sighed, gaze darkening. "I don't exactly know how to fix it, but whatever's happening, I can't just sit back and watch you succumb to it. I can't lose you, too, Neil... not after..."

He trailed off with a faint warble in his voice, lowering his head. Neil gulped, a heavy weight surfacing in his chest. It was true; though he hated to admit it, at this point it was hard to deny that he was cursed. And yet, even as his foot throbbed around the spot where the bullet was lodged and his shoe was slowly stained from within by his own blood, it was hard to convince himself that he should accept help. On some level, didn't he deserve this? Wasn't this a fitting comeuppance for getting one of his friends killed?

Yet here was his other friend, clutching at him ever tighter to the point where his grip on Neil's shoulders was nearly as painful as hitting his head or getting mildly electrocuted or shooting himself in the foot. I'm not the only one who lost Ryan, he reminded himself--another thing he knew perfectly well on an intellectual level, but easy to forget in practice. Kevin is hurting too. I shouldn't make him hurt any more.

"Fine, I admit it," he sighed, letting his tensed-up shoulders slump. "I'm unlucky, okay? And if you think it's possible--" He tore the clover off his shirt and glared down at it-- "then we're going to beat this thing."

*

For as tough as the gang presented themselves, it must have been most of these people's first time in an actual fight. The vigilante swerved to avoid weak punches, clumsy kicks, poor attempts at stabbing. It all blended together after a while, and he stopped thinking of the gang members as individuals; they were just an indistinguishable swarm of insects whose attacks were easily dodged. Unimportant, save for their leader.

The vigilante had Max pinned to the floor now, holding his thrashing form in place with one arm while he brought his other fist down on the ruffian's face, over and over, as hard as he could. Not every blow connected cleanly, and Max had managed to bite him several times already, but that was irrelevant. Criminals must be brought to justice. That was why the vigilante hated these people, wasn't it? Because they were criminals. Yes, what other reason could he have, when this was all he'd ever been?

And then, just as he managed to land a blow to Max's jaw that left him defiantly spitting out blood and a couple of teeth, the vigilante's spine snapped.

It took a moment for him to register what had happened. He just heard a loud crack, and a sharp pain shot through him, and suddenly he couldn't hold his legs in place and collapsed. Max wasted no time taking advantage; he delivered a kick to the vigilante's gut that sent him flying back across the room, where he hit a wall and slumped to the ground, gasping in breathless agony. At once the other gang members closed in on him. Grimacing, the vigilante drew himself up onto his hands and knees, then braced himself against the wall and, with a far greater strain of effort than expected, dragged himself upright. By the time he'd managed to get to his feet, dozens of knives were inches away from him.

Then, to his surprise, Max pushed through to the front of the crowd and held his arms out to hold back his underlings. "Nuh-uh, this one's mine," he told them, sneering as though oblivious to the blood dribbling from between his lips. "I said I'd get him twice tomorrow, and I meant it."

The vigilante flinched as Max took a swipe at him. But rather than a fist connecting with his face, he was met only with the shock of exposure as the bully grabbed his mask and triumphantly yanked it off his face. He was left dumbfounded, blinking, as his vision readjusted to the light.

Wait a minute, I remember--

And then came the punch, square in the nose. Ryan yelped, pressing his gloved hand over his nose to stop the bleeding. When he dodged another punch, his body failed to cooperate and he crashed to the ground again, back aching furiously and heart pounding against his ribcage.

How and why his back had broken, he couldn't say, but one thing was clear: he was horrendously outmatched. Max was saying something now, gloating as he advanced on Ryan with a dagger in his hands, but Ryan couldn't make out the words over the blood rushing in his head. Why on earth had he gotten into a fight like this in the first place? What was he doing? He had to get out of there!

With that thought, yet another thing happened that Ryan didn't entirely understand. (Ryan didn't understand, but the vigilante did. It was one of the few things the vigilante knew: dissolve, reform, enact ruthless vengeance, dissolve again.) His body shuddered, and suddenly he found his solid flesh and bone giving way to a slurry of blood and ice that slipped through the cracks in the floor and disappeared. Then he was formless, freefalling through the dark, or at least that was what it felt like. When he took shape again it felt like dragging himself out of quicksand. Yet when he raised his slowly resolidifying head and looked around, he found himself in the basement of his own home, staring up at the portraits of his ancestors that had started it all.

No. Not started it all. "I had a life before this," he whispered, voice raw with the shock of memory and too many months spent speaking in an inhuman growl. "My name is Ryan, I have a life and a job and friends, I..."

Yes, that's right. Friends. Where were they? He closed his eyes and tried to remember. Each recent memory that took form in his mind was accompanied by a crashing wave of guilt and regret, and soon his body shook and tears pricked at his wrenched-shut eyes. That's right... I became a vigilante, and I teamed up with such a horrible person, let him manipulate me, all because I was too afraid to go back and apologize. And then...

The last thing he remembered, just after the flash of light and shock of paralyzing cold, was the sound of a gunshot, something shattering, and Neil screaming.

"Oh, dear god," Ryan whispered. He raised his head, opening his eyes and lowering his hands from his newly tear-stained face, and sat back on his heels as though worshipping the paintings before him. "What have I become?"

*

The ropes were just slightly too tight around Neil's limbs to be comfortable; he couldn't resist squirming a little as Kevin laid out the open bible on the end table next to his proton pack and began reading from it.

"Okay, um, let's see... ex-or-ciz-amus te, omnis immunde spiritus..." He squinted at the yellowed, faded pages, biting his lip. "Omni satanica pot-es-tas, omnis incurs--incursio infernalis adversarii... uh..."

"You're doing great," Neil called from his position tied to the bed frame; Kevin gave him a weary smile and thumbs up.

As Kevin continued reciting the verse, occasionally stumbling over a particularly tricky Latin word, the room's temperature eventually dropped a few degrees. Neil shivered, but his heartbeat picked up in excitement. He could feel something stirring in his blood like ripples on a lake, and when the furniture in the room began to quiver, so too did his body in eager anticipation.

"...Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam draco sit mihi dux..." A chill wind swept through the room; Kevin gritted his teeth, one hand pressing down on the bible to hold its pages in place while he grabbed his proton pack with the other. "Vade retro Satana! Nun-quam-suade mihi vana!"

The furniture rumbled louder. Neil's eyes widened as an entire bookcase lifted off the ground. "Kevin, watch out!"

"Hang on, Neil, I'm almost done. Uh, where was I... sunt mala quae libas..."

"No, Kevin, the--"

"Just one more line, okay? Ipse ven--"

"KEVIN!"

That last terrified yell was what it took for Kevin to finally turn, just in time to see the six-foot block of polished oak fly directly into him. Neil shrieked and thrashed against his bindings with all his might, but even if he weren't tied up, there was nothing he could have done. The bookcase came crashing down, its contents spilling out onto the floor around it in a flurry of paper. And when the dust settled, Kevin was pinned beneath it, unmoving.

"N... no..." Neil whimpered. Dread tightened like a noose around his throat as the horrible thought seeped into his mind: This is because of me. Now I've gotten them both killed.

"Oh, yes, what a tragedy... just your luck, isn't it?"

Neil's blood ran cold. He raised his head to see the translucent, smoke-shrouded figure of a giant clover looming over him. Its four leaves, dark green tipped with crimson and speckled with barnacles, opened down the middle to reveal a row of needle-sharp fangs. For a second, "Where did you come from?" was on the tip of Neil's tongue. But it was just as well that he was too terrified to speak, because no sooner than the question appeared in his mind, he realized the obvious answer. Oh, right. This is the demon that cursed me.

"Don't worry, your friend is alive... for now," the demon jeered. "But that could change. It's so easy for accidents to happen, you know?"

As if to demonstrate, the demon's leaves fluttered and suddenly a fire sprang up dangerously close to the scattered pile of books on the floor. When Neil screamed in protest, the demon laughed, and part of the ceiling gave in, sending down a controlled shower of debris to put out the fire before anything flammable could catch.

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Neil exclaimed with a shake of his head; he'd be almost exasperated if he weren't so terrified. "You're really powerful and want to hurt people, geez, not exactly a challenging concept. So, what do I have to do?"

That question seemed to give the demon pause. "...Do?"

"You know, to appease you or whatever. If you're threatening me with Kevin's life, then there must be something you want from me, right?" An idea occurred to Neil just then, and his already hammering heart beat even harder, to the point where he hoped the demon couldn't hear it and tell how freaked out he was. "Hey, it must suck having to be a clover. What if a lawnmower or forest fire had gotten to you before I did? And if you like hurting people so much..." He paused, smirking as the demon leaned toward him with obvious interest. "Wouldn't it be easier just to possess my whole body instead of wasting time messing with my luck?"

"That's..." The demon hesitated, its leaves curling up in what looked like excitement. "Ah. Ah-ha-ha! You're a clever little mortal, aren't you?"

"But don't get it twisted," he put in, glaring defiantly up at the demon despite hardly being in a position to threaten anyone. "You have to promise not to hurt anyone else. Especially not Kevin."

"It's a deal!"

Before Neil could stop and reconsider whether this was really a good idea, the demon dove toward him, row of fangs wide open as though it were going to bite his head off. He flinched a split-second before something cold and stinging like nettles clamped around him.

When he opened his eyes again, the world was tinted dark green as if viewed through a dingy screen, his head felt hazy... and he couldn't move, at least not of his own volition. Even opening his eyes just then wasn't his decision. He heard himself cackle, felt his arms and legs flex far harder than he'd known he was physically capable of flexing, breaking the ropes that bound him to the bed frame and setting his body free to do whatever the demon wanted.

"Hah..." the demon muttered in his voice as it made him walk over to where Kevin lay, still trapped and unconscious. The demon knelt down and poked experimentally at Kevin's shoulder and forearm. "This one has more muscle. It might have been a better choice for possession, if it wasn't so damaged already..."

For one petrifying moment, the demon grabbed Kevin's head and stared intently at him, stretching Neil's face into a grin so wide it made his whole face ache, and Neil's mind raced with horrible thoughts of things the demon might make his own hands inflict upon his poor helpless friend. But the demon simply laughed and dropped Kevin, who let out a low groan as his head lolled to the side--an indication that at least he really was still alive. But all of a sudden Neil had trouble believing that small mercy was really worth it.

"Ah, well, this body will do," the demon decided. "Let's take it out on the town and see how long it lasts!"

*

This time when the vigilante materialized in Wendy's room, she did little more than roll her eyes and move to grab her baseball bat. However, rather than try to attack her or even growl out any threats, the vigilante took two shaky steps and then collapsed, catching himself against her dresser. Wendy's eyes widened as she took a closer look at his face. His mask was off now, revealing a pair of striking blue eyes glistening with obvious distress, cheeks flushed with exertion, and a streak of half-dried blood running from his bruised nose. And when he spoke, it wasn't in the gravelly tone she'd heard from him before, but in a quiet higher-pitched voice--almost a whimper.

"Please... tell me..."

Wendy hung back, caught between a sharp tug of sympathy in her heart and a very rational wariness based on their previous encounter. The vigilante tried to walk again, and again nearly fell; his face wrenched up and he let out a pained hiss. At that, sympathy won out over rationality. Wendy edged toward him with her baseball bat in hand, and when she was close enough, held it out to him.

"Hey, uh... here. It's not exactly medically sanctioned, but maybe you could use this like a cane?"

"Oh... good idea, thank you!" He broke into a grin, and Wendy shivered; somehow he was far scarier when his eyes were bright and cheerful. "Terribly sorry for how I treated you last time, by the way. I really wasn't myself."

"Uh-huh?" While the vigilante tested out the makeshift cane, Wendy sat down on her bed, arms crossed. "And who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Ryan... or at least I think I still am." His smile faltered, and he looked away, anxiously running a hand through his hair. It was starting to come unpinned, and his hat was askew; evidently he'd been through a lot in the few hours it had been since their first encounter. "It's been... strange, lately. I don't think I'm entirely human anymore, if I ever was. But I came back here because there's something I want to understand."

"You want to know why I ghosted your friend?" It was just a guess, but Ryan nodded; Wendy smiled privately to herself for having figured it out. "Alright, I can tell you..."

She uncrossed her arms and leaned back on her bed, thinking back to the disastrous date she'd gone on several months prior. It was a story she'd recited many times to friends, relatives, other first dates as sort of a half-joking warning ("So, as long as you don't blow it as much as that guy did, we should be good...") and the more she told it, the more warped and exaggerated it became within her memory. But when she really thought back on it now, it hadn't been so disastrous at all--pretty damn awkward, sure, but not even close to the worst date she'd been on.

"Kevin actually seemed really sweet," she recalled, smiling despite herself at the memory of his big dorky grin. "I would have gone on a second date with him. But then, first thing the next morning, I read in the news that some guy got arrested right outside the restaurant while we were on our date. And the criminal's name? Neil. Same name as the 'friend' Kevin had said was helping him out." She shrugged, lips twisting into a frown. "I just got kinda freaked out, you know? Like, 'oh geez, did I go on a date with a drug dealer or serial killer or something?' Of course it probably wasn't anything that serious, and pretending to be dead was probably an overreaction, but... well, what's done is done."

Wendy was so caught up in her own memories as she explained all this that she wasn't really observing Ryan's reactions. Once she concluded her story, she glanced over to find him sitting on the floor with his legs tucked up awkwardly beneath him, the baseball bat in his lap; he was staring at the floor, expression unreadable. He stayed like that for a long moment, not seeming to notice that Wendy had stopped talking, until she cleared her throat. Then he jumped to attention, eyes flashing like those of a woodland cryptid in headlights.

"Ah! Yes, of course... well, I still don't entirely understand, but I think I resent you less now." Ryan tilted his head and shot her another shiver-inducing grin. (Whether it was supposed to be threatening or not, she had no idea.) "And you're right; I almost forgot--we're all criminals too, Neil and probably even Kevin and especially myself! So how can I be a vigilante?" He answered his own rhetorical question with a shake of his head, manic grin softening into a melancholy smile. "It's ridiculous. I've been so foolish."

With that, his body began to ripple, losing a little of its solidity. But before he could break apart and dissolve through the floorboards like last time, a chirpy little beep-beep-beedle-beep noise rang out. Ryan's eyebrows shot up, and he glanced down at an accessory around his wrist... Wait, is that one of those communicator watches like the one Kevin had?

If it was, Ryan wasn't quick to answer it. He simply stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, at the beeping device in silence. Although she knew even less about Ryan than she knew about his apparently only slightly more normal friends, and she didn't normally care to get too involved in the personal affairs of strangers, he was still in the middle of Wendy's bedroom. And the longer that little jingle repeated, the more annoying it got. So she cleared her throat again and asked, in as polite a tone as she could manage given the circumstances,

"So, are you gonna answer that, or what?"

*

It was a stupid, pointless idea. Not an idea at all, really. Just the last scraps of... not even hope, that was pretty much deplenished at the moment, but effort. The effort not to let everything fall apart even further than it already had.

Kevin had woken with a throbbing pain throughout pretty much his whole body. Judging by the crushing weight pressing down on his torso, he was lucky to have woken up at all. The only parts of him not pinned down were his head and right arm, and even those hurt to move, though at least the spinning in his head put some degree of separation between himself and his broken body. Forget about trying to wriggle free when it hurt just to breathe.

So there he was, stuck, the shelf slowly crushing the air out of him, and Neil was gone. Where to, he didn't know. When he craned his neck he could see the empty bed frame, and the ropes broken and discarded at the foot of it. The bible he'd gotten from Ryan's house was facedown beside the tipped-over end table, next to a crushed and twisted lump of metal and plastic that he was horrified to recognize as his beloved proton pack. So wherever Neil was now, he must have still been cursed... or worse. And there was nothing Kevin could do about it.

Unless. Grimacing at the way his joints twinged, he raised his unpinned arm above his head. There on his wrist, perfectly intact despite everything he'd been through, was his communicator wristwatch. In all the hubbub of that day, he'd never gotten around to mentioning them to Neil, so his friend wouldn't be wearing his. But what if...?

It was stupid. It was pointless. There was no way in hell. But it was the only thing he could do. In a display so lacking in dignity that he was grateful nobody was around to see it, Kevin used his teeth and tongue for lack of a free hand to dial in the frequency and send off a signal. The watch's screen flashed in affirmation; he let his head flop against the floor with a weary sigh. Now all he could do was wait.

When he was at Ryan's house going through his things, and he found those communicator wristwatches, he'd only found two of them. And although that could have meant a dozen different things, there was just one wild, far-fetched possibility that any last semblance of hope now rested upon: that the third watch was missing because Ryan was alive, and he was still wearing his.

He didn't expect to get a response. By the time he did, he was struggling to stay awake--funny thing, trying to breathe with fifty pounds of wood pressed directly on your chest really takes it out of you. But he snapped to attention, or the closest he could get when his head was swimming and his body was beginning to go numb from lack of circulation, the moment he heard that voice crackling through the speaker.

"H-hello? Kevin?"

The relief that coursed through his veins was so overwhelming, especially on top of everything else, that he could only laugh--only for it to quickly turn into hacking as his ribs offered a sharp jab of protest. He raised his sleeve to wipe away a streak of blood that dribbled from his lips before speaking into the watch.

"Ryan. Where are you?" He regretted wasting time with that question the moment he asked it; he could tell from the way his organs felt like they were curling in on themselves as he spoke that he didn't have the energy for a full conversation. So before Ryan could stammer out a proper response, Kevin continued: "Neil is in trouble. You've gotta help him."

"What?" The shrill uptick of anxiety in Ryan's voice was palpable, and even just hearing that voice in and of itself stirred up a whole miasma of feelings that there was no time to properly react to. "What's going on? Are you okay? You sound--"

"I'm fine," Kevin lied through gritted teeth. "And... I don't know exactly where Neil is, but I know he's in trouble." A choking mix of emotions and his own blood swelled in his throat as his slowly blurring gaze wandered to the facedown bible. "I've tried to do some stuff today that I couldn't do without you. I-- we need you, Ryan. So, please... help."

With that final plea, something broke within him like a dam that he hadn't even realized was cracking. His arm flopped to the ground, wrist landing near his ear, where the communicator watch kept emitting Ryan's voice as it slowly rose in pitch until he was almost shouting. But even as his friend called frantically out to him, Kevin found it harder to make out the words. He groaned, letting his head loll to the side and his eyes fall shut. The last sensation he was aware of as darkness closed around him was that there was something wet on his face.

*

"Kevin, are you still there? Hello? Kevin!"

He wasn't responding. Why wouldn't he be responding, if the situation was so urgent? Maybe because he couldn't respond. Because he was--

"What are you going to do?" Wendy's voice cut into the swirl of panic Ryan was rapidly descending into. She hovered over his shoulder, peering down at the watch with wide, anxious eyes. The watch's screen had gone dark. No signal. Yes, indeed, what to do?

"What else? I have to save Neil."

If Kevin didn't know where Neil was, then there was no way that Ryan should have been able to instantly find him. But when he closed his eyes and let his vigilante instincts take over, he found that he didn't have to know where someone was. Whatever dark magic was infused in him now, letting him exist in this not-quite-human state even after what should by all accounts have been his death, it was hardwired for vengeance. And saving Neil meant exacting vigilante justice on whoever or whatever was harming him. With that in mind, the vigilante dissolved in a flurry of blood-tinted ice and reformed seconds later in the place it somehow knew it needed to be.

The first thing Ryan noticed when he appeared on the rooftop was the storm brewing overhead. He raised his eyebrows at that; earlier that day there hadn't been a cloud in the sky--and for that matter, when he looked around, it appeared that most of the sky was still perfectly clear, with the storm clouds being localized around this building. The second thing he noticed, upon peering over the edge of the roof, was that he wasn't on just any rooftop, but a skyscraper that towered above every other building in the vicinity. Lastly, he noticed a flagpole at the far corner of the rooftop, several feet away from him. And that was when his gaze fell upon Neil.

Neil was laughing as he swayed back and forth, clad in a brightly patterned jacket that wasn't his usual style at all, his arms and legs wrapped tight around the tall metal pole. Above him, the dark clouds lit up in a flash, followed almost instantly by a rumble of thunder. Although these particular stormclouds didn't come with rain, Ryan shivered. An incredulous exclamation was on the tip of his tongue (What on earth are you doing, stop it, you'll be killed!) when Neil locked eyes with Ryan, and he realized with a jolt of horror that this wasn't Neil at all--his body, yes, but someone or something else was controlling it. His mouth was stretched into a grin far wider than what a human face could normally achieve, and rather than their usual brown, his eyes glowed a sickly shade of green.

"Why, if it isn't my dear friend Ryan!" Neil--or whatever was piloting him--called, raising one arm off the pole in an exaggerated wave. "Oh boy, the guy I got this body from is sure surprised to see you alive! And as much as I'd love to send you plummeting off the edge of this building, I did promise not to hurt anyone else, so..." He waved his hand in a circle, unnaturally glowing eyes crinkling with amusement. "How about instead I pull you in a little closer so you can get a nice good look when your friend's body fries?"

With that, a sudden gust of wind blew into Ryan from behind, sending him stumbling forward. When he attempted to regain his footing, his broken spine betrayed him once again and he flopped to the ground with an undignified oof just a few feet away from the base of the flagpole. Grimacing, he pushed himself up and crawled the remaining short distance to grab Neil's ankle. As he did so, he noticed there was a bloodstained hole in his friend's shoe, and that his pant leg was slightly damp and already bore a few singe marks. Between that and whatever had happened to Kevin... he shuddered at the thought of what his friends had gone through in his absence.

"Nice try, vigilante," the thing in Neil's body jeered. "But I've gotta say, you don't pose much of a threat since I broke your spine."

He stomped his other foot down on Ryan's hand; Ryan yelped and instinctively released his grip. And at the very instant he let go, in such perfectly unlucky timing that only a supernatural entity could orchestrate, the stormclouds above them opened up with a searing, crackling, blindingly bright lighting strike.

Neil tilted his head back and laughed at the top of his lungs as countless volts of electricity tore through him. That horrendous laughter drowned out Ryan's screams of protest, not that there was anything he could do anyway in his current state, when he couldn't so much as get to his feet. All he could do was lay there and gape in horror as Neil's body shuddered and his flesh began to sizzle and burn.

Though it felt like an eternity of torture, the lightning strike couldn't have lasted for more than a few seconds. When it ended, Neil dropped like a ragdoll into Ryan's arms. Ryan, too stricken to even check for a pulse, simply stared blankly into his friend's glazed-over eyes. Then Neil blinked, and his eyes were glowing green again, and he laughed, the sound rougher now that it was being produced by a charred set of lungs.

"Ah-ha-ha-ha! I wasn't expecting this body to survive that! Can you believe Neil is still kicking in here?" He tapped a finger against his head, then sat up with a playful kick of his legs. "...Or is he? It would be just like a demon to lie, wouldn't it?" He grabbed Ryan's chin with his burnt and blackened fingernails and forcefully tilted his head up so their gazes met. "You can't tell, can you, vigilante? So, how hard are you willing to throw your broken body around to try and save someone who might already be toast? Maybe you should just give up and go on with your day, hmm?"

While the demon taunted him, Ryan's mind raced to concoct a plan. Some miraculous last-minute solution that would fix everything... Neil would be able to think of one. Perhaps he already had. But that wouldn't do them any good when Neil was trapped and helpless within his own mind. If this really was a demon, and a powerful one at that, the only thing that might work was an impromptu exorcism.

"Crux sacra sit mihi lux! Nunquam draco sit mihi dux! Vade retro Satana!" Reciting the passage from memory as rapidly as he could without tripping over his tongue, Ryan grabbed Neil by the wrists and held him tight while he hissed and tried to jerk away. "Nunquamsuade mihi vana! Sunt mala quae libas. Ipse venena bibas!"

An ungodly noise somewhere between a shriek and a roar erupted from Neil as he tossed his head back and convulsed. It was far too visually similar for comfort to his electrocution less than a minute prior, and Ryan wondered if the demon was doing it that way on purpose in an attempt to scare him into stopping. If so, it wouldn't work. Even if this process was as painful for Neil as it was for the demon possessing him, it had to be done.

Sure enough, as the final line of the chant echoed across the rooftop, Neil shuddered and slumped to the ground next to Ryan. When their gazes met this time, the demonic glow was gone, but Neil was breathing fast and shallow and his eyes were wide with lingering terror.

"Ryan," he whispered. "You're... alive."

"I think so," he replied with a tentative smile. "It's all a little confusing. But we're going to be okay now, Neil."

However, no sooner had those words left his mouth than Neil stiffened up again, eyes momentarily flashing green. "No," he gasped, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head as if to dispel the demon's grasp. "Not yet. Still gotta... get rid of it..." He grabbed Ryan's hands and held them desperately tight, like a scared child clinging to their parent or older sibling. His eyes flashed once more, and this time when the glow faded, his face bore a strained smile. "I've got an idea. Ryan, don't freak out."

And with that, before Ryan could process what was happening and reach out to stop him, Neil sprung to his feet and took a running leap off the edge of the building.

*

For a while now, Neil had been having unusually vivid dreams. They weren't always nightmares, but they often were. Dreams about different worlds, different realities, different lives. Ones where him and Kevin and Ryan weren't all friends. Or worse, ones where they still were, but that wasn't enough to save them. One of those recent dreams, which began as an exciting fantasy only to devolve into a nightmare, was about some kind of flying vehicle. Ever since having that dream, Neil had made two vows to himself. Firstly, that as soon as he gathered the funds to afford it, he'd go back to school and complete his aeronautical engineering degree. Secondly, to always carry a parachute, just in case.

But the demon possessing him had no way of knowing that, now did it? And it wouldn't want to still be trapped inside a host body that was splattered all over the pavement. That was what Neil was banking on, at least. Otherwise he might really be in trouble.

As he fell, a stinging sensation rippled through his body. He shuddered, yet there was a smile on his face--no longer a grin stretched unnaturally wide, but an expression of his own volition--and his heart pounded not with terror but with exhilaration and boundless relief. Sure enough, the demon leapt forth from him and departed in a swirl of green smoke. And with it gone, he wasted no time in engaging the parachute--just in time to slow his acceleration enough that the fall wouldn't kill him.

Admittedly, he didn't exactly come down gracefully. He landed in a tangle of limbs and fabric that he had to shrug off the borrowed jacket, parachute and all, in order to escape, and the landing was just rough enough to deliver a painful reminder of the electrical burns covering the better part of his body. Still, Neil couldn't stop grinning as he gingerly picked himself up and dusted himself off. He was alive and no longer possessed; that was a win in his book.

When he craned his neck to look up at the roof, he thought he saw Ryan still sitting there. Neil grimaced as he recalled what the demon had said about breaking Ryan's back; hopefully that injury was undone with the demon being vanquished, but since Neil's injuries were still there, maybe that wasn't so. Either way, he couldn't just leave his friend up there alone.

As quickly as he could run with a bullet wound in his foot, he entered the building and took the closest elevator to the rooftop. But by the time the elevator chimed and its doors slid open, the rooftop was abandoned, with no sign of Ryan save for an abandoned hat, cape, and gloves, and a slowly fading dark red stain.

*

If Kevin hadn't already been surprised to wake up alive the first time, he sure as hell was now. The only reason he knew he was alive at all was the deep, persistent ache that wracked practically his entire body. That, and the warmth of the hand laid atop his own.

Forcing his eyes open with a pained groan, he turned his head to see the man sitting at his bedside. Ryan squeezed his hand and flashed him a sad smile when their eyes met. His vigilante costume was gone, traded for a simple dress shirt and tie, and his hair fell unpinned around his visibly tired face; the chair he sat in, upon closer inspection, was an old-fashioned wheelchair.

With some effort, Kevin pushed himself into a sitting position. Looking around, he found that he was laying on the couch in the living room with his chest bandaged. How Ryan had managed to pull him out from beneath the bookcase, he had no idea, but he sure wasn't going to complain about it.

"Ryan, you... you're hurt?" It was a stupid question--why else would he be in a wheelchair? "Did the demon...?"

"It's gone now," Ryan responded. "But..." His gaze lowered, and he dropped his hands into his lap to fidget with the blanket draped over his legs. "It was a costly victory, I'm afraid. In order to defeat the demon, Neil--"

His tearful speech was interrupted by the distant bang of the front door being thrown open.

"Geez, you could've told me you were going straight home!" Neil's indignant voice rang out down the hall. "I wandered all over town looking for you."

Ryan's head snapped up, and he and Kevin turned in unison to see their friend running toward them with a slightly crooked gait. With a cry of joyous disbelief, Ryan opened his arms, and Neil tackled him in an embrace that nearly sent him toppling over; Kevin had to lean forward to grab the back of Ryan's chair to keep him upright as he and Neil clung to each other.

"Neil, you're alive! I-I thought..."

"It's okay, Ryan," said Neil. Then, pulling back and glancing at Kevin with a melancholy smile: "I think we're all going to be okay."

*

"So, what do you think?"

As the ending credits rolled on their latest webisode, Neil and Kevin turned to face Ryan with matching expectant grins.

"Well..." Ryan drummed his fingers against the keys of the laptop and tried to think of something positive to say. "The costumes you used were a lot more fashionable than usual--wait, hold on. Weren't those my clothes?"

They were in Kevin's truck parked outside the studio's headquarters, with Neil in the passenger seat and Ryan in the back. It had taken a little over a week for them to recover to the point where they could comfortably climb inside a vehicle, let alone Kevin being able to actually drive, and the studio had already sent them several notes warning them that their pay would be docked for submitting their webisode behind schedule.

"Ah, yeah, sorry about that," Kevin muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"To be fair, if he hadn't broken into your house and stolen a bunch of stuff from you, he couldn't have called you on your communicator watch," Neil interjected cheerfully. "Or tried to do an exorcism... but I guess that didn't really work out for him anyway."

"Hey, c'mon, it wasn't stealing!" Kevin gave Neil a gentle shove, prompting him to briefly wince but laugh anyway. "If we'd known you were still alive, we wouldn't have taken your stuff, Ryan, honest."

"Ah, I'll have to remember that for next time," Ryan quipped. He closed the laptop and handed it back to Neil, who tucked it away inside an oversized shoulder bag. "Well, that may not have been the best webisode we've made, but I can tell you two did your best."

"Yeah, it'll be way better once we get back to making them as a trio," Neil said.

It was still amazing to Ryan that his friends were so quick to accept him back after all he'd done. If anything, it made him feel worse about his prolonged absence, because he knew now that he could have come back at any point and they would have been glad to have him. It was easy to fall into regret when thinking of all that had gone wrong, and all that could easily have gone even worse. But the fact was, they were together again now--altered by what they'd gone through, and not entirely for the better, but still themselves.

And despite it all, the preceding events and the possibility that another horrible thing could happen to them in the future, he found himself agreeing with Neil's hopeful statement.

"Indeed..." Ryan reached out and took Neil and Kevin's hands in his own. They smiled back at him with the same residual traces of relief in their eyes that Ryan had felt every so often over the past week--relief that they were still there to smile at each other. "Gentlemen, I look forward to working with you again."

¤--END--¤

[asmodeusbby]

I’m so happy that you liked my fic enough to want to read more! Since I wasn’t planning on writing a part 2, I’m not sure where I’m going with this story but I have some interesting ideas so I’ve left this chapter on a cliffhanger. I know you asked for closure but it will have to wait. Anyway, thank you so much!

Bad boy — Asmodeus x GN!MC

Read part 1 here

NSFW 18+. Do not read/interact if you’re a minor.

Trigger warnings: Dubcon, toxic relationship, rough sex, blood, humiliation kink, mentions of cheating.

Please, do not read this work if you’re sensitive to dark themes.

Asmodeus moaned softly, a pleased smile forming on his lips as you thrust into him.

It was hard to believe he had finally agreed to an exclusive relationship with you. And yet there he was, his body trembling under your control, sweet promises leaving his lips with every thrust.

"I have only one condition, dear. You must satisfy my needs at all times. Do you think you can keep up with me?" He had said. "You have my absolute consent to use our pact to prevent me from seeing other people, that way you'll know I'm not cheating!"

He was now completely bound to you. You leaned down and peppered his face with kisses, making his smile widen. It almost made you forget the way he bared his fangs when he laughed at you; the malicious sparkle in his eyes when he played his mind games. Now he was kissing your skin like he worshipped you and his touch was so gentle you would have believed you were making love to an angel. 

“Nobody else fucks me like you do... You're the only one I need.” He crooned, looking deep into your eyes before capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. 

His hands searched for yours and held them, linking his fingers with yours.

“You love me, right? Say that you adore me, please.” He breathed, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “I love you above all things."

"I adore you.” You whispered, burying your face in his hair, breathing in his scent. 

You pleasured him over and over that night, in every way possible, a reward for having given you the best gift you could have imagined. When you collapsed on his bed in the end, body too worn out and skin sore from the friction, Asmodeus wrapped his arms around you and pressed sleepy kisses on your neck.

✧

You checked your D.D.D for the hundredth time that morning as you endured an exceedingly boring lesson. You were lucky Asmo always sat next to you in the back of the classroom. He usually made classes more entertaining, since he was unable to shut up for more than five minutes. That day, however, Asmo seemed quieter than usual. You kicked his foot a little.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"My human is hungry for some attention?" He smiled lazily.

You felt Asmo's fingers touching your hand, then wrapping around your wrist before guiding your hand between his legs.

"Asmo, not here!" You whispered.

He pouted for a moment, then winked at you, his tongue darting between his teeth.

"Come on, this class is insufferable. Entertain Asmo a little, pretty please?"

He pressed your hand against the crotch of his pants, making you palm his erection. You couldn't help but squeeze him, his cock hardening even more at the pressure.

"Good, just like that."

You rubbed him down there as he returned his attention to the lesson. He looked completely unfazed, head resting in his hand, disinterest written all over his features as his eyes followed the teacher. 

"Why don't you get your hand inside my pants?" He said without looking at you.

"People will see us."

"Don't worry, darling. No one is noticing. Just do as I say. Don't you want to please me?" He undid the knot in his belt to give you access to the front of his pants.

You slid your hand inside and touched his warm skin clumsily.

"I can't move my hand, your pants are too tight."

"Try to touch the tip a little, that'll be enough." He mumbled, his gaze glued to the blackboard.

The moment your fingers moved to the head of his cock, you felt him twitch, his hot load spurting out against your palm. Your first impulse was to try to gather all of it in your hand so as to not stain his uniform, but you could feel it spilling down your hand. 

"For fuck's sake, Asmo." You muttered.

"Will you help me clean myself up?" He asked, cheeks slightly flushed. "Let's get out of here."

Both of you ran out of the class, knowing well that your audacity would earn you a harsh punishment from Lucifer if he found out that you were skipping classes again. Asmodeus led you to a restroom, a mischievous smirk on his face.

"Get down on your knees." He ordered once you were inside the stall. "And lick your hand clean, I want to see how you do it."

"Why don't you lick my hand instead, pet?" You teased as you pressed two fingers against his lips. He sucked on them obediently, then pulled them out of his mouth and ran his tongue across your hand, his eyes never leaving your own.

"Since now we're exclusive, you have to give me some control too." He cooed, his brow slightly furrowed. "I love being your plaything, but… Can you please get down on your knees and lick my cock clean like the dirty kitten that you are?"

You snorted in disbelief but did as he commanded, arousal beginning to swell between your legs as he pulled his glistening cock out. 

"You caused this mess in the first place, so it's only right that you fix it." Asmodeus rubbed the tip against your lips. You placed a hand on his hip, the other grabbing his cock as you ran your tongue from the tip down to his sack, then up again to wrap your lips around the head. Asmodeus' fingers gripped your hair firmly before thrusting into you.

"Make me cum in your mouth, okay? Breathe through your nose. Just like that, you're doing so well."

He fucked your face so hard tears were stinging your eyes. Slick sounds and soft moans filled the cubicle but you were too lost in your desire for him to care about getting caught. 

"When we were in class all I could think about was ripping your clothes off and ravaging you right in front of everyone. Imagine the teacher's reaction if I rammed my cock into you right there as you screamed and writhed in pleasure." He chuckled. "Doesn't it turn you on when I'm a bad boy?"

You slid a hand between your legs to touch yourself a little as you tried to focus on breathing through your nose, Asmodeus' cock hitting the back of your throat relentlessly.

"Oh, you get off on that? I guess you're a slut like me."

After making him cum several times with your mouth and hands, Asmodeus fucked you until your legs gave out. His cock was so wet with cum it slid into you easily. He fucked you three or four times in the stall, you couldn't remember exactly how many. His thrusts were rough and needy and he seemed to only seek his own pleasure as he penetrated your abused hole without mercy. And yet, you only wanted more and more, the thought of being a cum dump for him to use however he pleased awakening something primal in you.

"Good human. Who would have thought it'd be so easy to tame you?" He whispered when he was done, his cock still buried inside you. "You take my love so well, dear. I'll make it up to you every single day from now on."

✧

Asmo showed up in your room wearing nothing but a set of lace underwear, his erection barely restrained under silk panties.

"Asmo, just let me do this task, I'll be with you in a second."

Asmodeus whined and threw himself onto your bed.

"Please, I really need to cum again. It hurts." He said, his hand toying lazily with his barely clothed erection. "Look, I'm already so wet." He pulled it out completely and gave it a tug, spreading precum along its length. 

"Just touch yourself while I finish this."

"Why are you like this?!" Asmodeus moaned as he lifted his camisole to play with his nipples, his other hand stroking his cock slowly. "You're so cruel. Didn't you say you'd satisfy me? There are a lot of beautiful people out there who would kill to get a taste of this."

That night you fucked him until he bled. And he wanted more.

✧

"MC, I've finally bought that game you told me about." Levi said, his eyes glowing with excitement. "If you come to my room later, we can try it together."

You felt Asmodeus' leg rubbing against your calf under the table insistently, his fingers creeping along your thigh.

"What do you say, darling?" He rested his cheek on his fist as he eyed you fondly, a soft smirk on his lips. "Will you play with him?"

"I'm sorry, Levi. I have a lot of things to do today. Maybe some other time."

✧

"My big brother wants you to fuck him." Asmodeus spoke against your sex, his warm breath tickling your swollen flesh. He pulled back a little to continue speaking. "I see it in his pitiful eyes. He wants you to stretch his virgin asshole until he can't take it anymore, the poor thing."

"Why are you telling me this right now?" You groaned.

"Because I've seen the way you look at him." Asmodeus swirled his tongue then sucked, making you moan. "I'm giving you permission to satisfy his dirty little fantasies."

You grabbed his hair and forced him to look at you, his face scrunching up with discomfort.

"I see what you're trying to do. You're giving me carte blanche, hoping I'll do the same. My answer is no."

"Nonsense, dear. I just want you to be happy, that's all."

He made you cum several times that night.

✧

"Please, master! Fuck me harder!" He screamed, mascara tears rolling down his face. "Hit me again, please!"

You gripped the back of his neck and pushed his head down into the mattress, then slapped his reddened ass one more time as you pounded harder into him.

"You never let me leave marks before." You groaned. "Why do you want me to beat you up now?"

Asmodeus trembled under your weight, a loud moan leaving his swollen lips as he spilled his release onto the sheets.

"I-I just want to please you…" He breathed, his hand traveling down to touch himself. "Keep fucking me, I'm still so hard."

You were exhausted and secretly angry at him and you kept fucking his asshole as hard as you could until a small pool of cum had formed on the sheets. You had always known that he didn't experience refractory periods and that his sin required him to cum frequently, yet you had never imagined to what extent. Asmodeus was smiling smugly at you, face dampened by tears and red from the slaps. It was as if he wanted to say "You should have known better! I am lust after all. Relentless and insatiable."

✧

"Asmodeus..." You moaned as he fucked you hard in the stall, your back against the door, his hands under your knees. He kept you in that position effortlessly while his cock entered you again and again.

"You love the risk of getting caught when I fuck your little hole in this disgusting stall, don't you?" You looked down to see how his cock disappeared into you, slick with cum and blood. He moved so fast, pounding against you with desperation. He grunted as you clawed at his scalp, pulling his face closer to yours. He kissed you sending you over the edge, your whole body trembling with your own release. He sighed softly.

"All this time acting like you're so dominant… but I've always known you're just a human pet begging for a demon like me to tame you." He licked the corner of your lips, then chuckled against your cheek. "Is this position uncomfortable? Don't worry, I'm going to cum again soon. You'll have to walk around all morning soaked with my delicious juices and we'll come back here right after every class so that I can refill this filthy hole of yours with my cum. Isn't it exciting?"

✧

"MC… hurt me!" He pleaded. "Spit on me!"

You slapped him again and he moaned. His neck was bruised, lips stained with his own blood. He clung onto the sheets as you tortured him with a huge dildo he had insisted on trying.

"Master, it's too big!" He cried out, tears streaming down his face. "Fuck! I'm going to die if you keep stretching my ass like that!" 

"Just say your damn safe word if you want me to stop and cut the act." You said as you buried the toy deeper into his asshole.

"You're no fun." He bit on one of his fingers playfully. "Oh, I'm so full! Keep fucking my ass like I'm the nastiest slut in the Devildom."

"Next time I'll put this thing into your disgusting asshole without lube." You threatened. "We'll see how you handle that."

"Ugh, master is so evil." He whined as he pinched one of his nipples between two fingers. "Keep saying those things to me."

"Of course you like being humiliated. It's because you know you're a worthless slut whose only purpose in life is fucking and being fucked. You brainless airhead."

Asmodeus bared his little fangs, the yellow gleam in his eyes telling you things were about to get dangerous.

✧

“Ahh, darling. Why aren't you moving anymore?" He whined as he entered you, still in his demon form, his blood-stained glitter nails digging into your skin. "I might as well be fucking a corpse. Roll your hips a little at least."

You weren't sure where the blood had come from, but there was some on his mouth and chin.

"Stop complaining, you know I'm exhausted." 

You felt your eyes close on their own, drowsiness invading your senses in spite of Asmo's thrusts.

"What?! You're going to fall asleep?! I thought you said you could keep up with me.”

"Let's call it a day." You muttered pressing your hands against his chest as if to push him away.

"Oh, I guess I've been too rough on you, haven't I?" Asmodeus pulled out of you and sat back, an unreadable expression on his face.

You watched him touch himself through heavy lashes. His yellow eyes looked so malicious as he glared at you, tongue licking your blood off his fingers while he pleasured himself with his other hand. It was at moments like these when you realised you were playing with fire. And you were bound to get burned at some point.

When you woke up the next day, your neck hurt. You felt the bite marks with your fingers, dry blood on your skin. 

"This was never about you loving me, was it? You just want to prove a point."

Asmodeus didn't say anything, but you could hear slick noises behind you as well as weak moans.

"You may think you have the upper hand but I won't cave in." You said before rolling over to face him. As expected, he was still touching himself, but something wasn't right. There was cum on the sheets, and on his legs and stomach.

"Asmodeus, what the fuck?"

He looked at you as if he couldn't see you.

"I'm not feeling well. I need my beauty sleep."

"Then stop beating your meat and get some sleep, you sick fuck."

Asmodeus chuckled weakly, but kept stroking himself silently. He looked pale, your blood strikingly dark on his complexion. 

"Are you feeling ill?" You asked.

He nodded slightly.

"My sin requires me to taint as many souls as I can with my lust. I haven't done that in days, since I'm bound to you and can't go to the human world to have my way with my worshipers."

You stared at him vacantly without saying a word.

"Honestly, I thought you'd get tired and give up this nonsense before I got to this point, but turns out you're a sex freak too." He giggled softly. "You'll take anything I throw at you as long as I don't leave your side, you fucking psycho." 

"Just tell me what I'm supposed to do to make you feel better and I'll do it."

"A threesome with two virgins would be ideal." He bared his fangs when he smiled mockingly. "I'll let you watch."

You kept silent again, looking away from him. 

"Suck me off, please, it'll make me feel better. I'm too weak to make myself cum again. Then go find me a pure soul I can corrupt." He paused dramatically. "Unless you want me to die, that is. I'm willing to die for you if that's what you want."

"You have some fucking nerve telling me you'll die unless you cheat on me." You snapped. "I'm not falling for this one, it's ridiculous."

"You can use our pact to know whether I'm lying or not. But that would mean you don't trust me with my word." Asmodeus looked away briefly, brow furrowed in frustration, then gave you a long, cold glare. "You really think I'd lie about something like this? Why are we in a relationship if you don't even trust my word?"

"Just shut up. I'll suck you off if that's what you want, but cut the bullshit already. You're mine and I'm not letting you fuck someone else."

You felt your body shake in angry impotence as you dug your nails into his hips with all your might before taking him into your mouth. Asmodeus hissed a little but didn't complain. You sucked him off roughly and he trembled and panted pitifully the whole time, his hands too weak to hold onto you. When he twitched inside your mouth, spilling his release, he passed out.

You waved a hand in front of his face, half expecting him to be pretending. When he didn't react, you started to panic. You yelled at him and tried to shake him awake, but nothing worked. So you took a sheet and tried to clean his body up a little, then covered him with a clean one and got dressed hurriedly before running out of the room to go look for Lucifer. Since he was the eldest and acted like a father figure for everyone in the House, you assumed he'd know what to do. Thankfully, you found him in his study. He gave you a displeased glare the second you showed up. 

"What is it?" He looked you up and down with arrogance, clearly wondering what your current state of dishevelment was due to.

You explained the situation to him, trying your best to spare him the sexual details as much as you could. Lucifer shook his head in disapproval but agreed to follow you to Asmo's room. He seemed more curious than worried.

As soon as he entered the room, Lucifer scrunched up his nose in disgust.

"Did my dear brother finally fuck himself to death?" He said nonchalantly as he walked up to the bed. "What an annoyance you are." He whispered to him as he forced one of Asmo's eyes open, his other hand searching for his pulse.

"Is he…?" The words got caught up in your throat.

"He's alive." Lucifer assured. "But his vital energy is probably low. Just let him rest. And make sure you break that exclusivity nonsense you've forced him into."

You nodded hesitantly.

"Did you know this could happen to him?" You dared to ask.

Lucifer shook his head slightly, a gloved hand resting on his chest.

"Despite his being so open about his flings, he's rather reserved when it comes to the implications of his sin. I had my suspicions that his vital energy depended on the corruption of the souls. But I wasn't certain. I'd suggest doing as he says. He should be fine after tainting as many virgin souls as he needs." Lucifer paused for a moment. "Although bringing him a pure soul should prove more effective."

"What do you mean by a pure soul?"

Lucifer eyed you for a moment as if you were a dim-witted child, then said:

"An angel."

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ 

Yes, Simeon may appear in chapter 3 👀 Let me know if you guys want me to continue.

Masterlist

[nikibogwater]

Bogwater’s Guide to Writing Platonic Relationships

Have a seat, dears, pour yourself a mug of cocoa, and let’s talk about writing for a bit. Specifically, writing emotionally intense, compelling relationships that are completely devoid of any romantic tension.

“Niki, those don’t exist! The only relationships that are truly intense and compelling are the romantic ones! Everybody knows that!”

*gently bonks you on the head with my magic scepter* NO. This is a common misconception that is perpetuated by media and especially fandom culture. And it stems from this bizarre idea that emotional intimacy must always equate with romantic intimacy. I have no idea where this idea got its start, but if you ask literally anybody who has experienced real, genuine friendship in their life, they will tell you it’s absolute nonsense. Just because you’re not doing the kissy-kiss with someone, that doesn’t mean you’re not emotionally intimate with them.

“But I don’t want any emotional intimacy without the kissy-kiss! It’s boring!” 

Yeah, so, there’s a reason platonic relationships in modern media often feel less interesting than romantic ones, and it’s precisely because of what I said above. Media producers and many fic authors are skittish about showing platonic love with the same level of depth and emotional intensity as romantic, so it often ends up being somewhat watered down and simplified, to the point that it becomes a less interesting relationship. The only thing this does is perpetuate the idea that any and all emotional intimacy immediately implies romantic attraction (it does not) while also devaluing the very real importance of genuine friendship/familial bonds. 

“Okay, but what if I just like romance better?”

That’s your personal preference, and that’s okay! Everybody has their favorite genres and tropes that resonate with them more than others. My personal favorite is Family, Found or otherwise (with a healthy dose of Hurt/Comfort on the side), but I can totally understand if romance speaks to you more. HOWEVER. This does not excuse writers and other content producers from low-key asserting that romantic relationships are objectively “better” than platonic ones. Hard fact of life: Nobody needs to experience romance, and even those who do experience it do so in different ways. But everybody does need to have emotional connections with other people through the bonds of friendship and family. Believe it or not, romantic love is not a universal experience. Platonic though? Everybody knows that one, and everybody needs it to be happy. To devalue it as a whole is to impose a toxic mindset that forces people to experience relationships in a very narrow and restrictive way.

Okay--*steps off my soap box and kicks it to the side*--now that we’ve established that friendship is important and should be given the same value that society gives to romance, let’s talk about a few ways to write intense and compelling platonic relationships!

Emotional Intimacy:

I’ve talked about this a lot already, but just in case some of you are confused, emotional intimacy is just when two people have a very deep familiarity and understanding of each other. They understand how the other’s mind works, and feel comfortable opening up to each other about their own stuff. Obviously, this is very important for any relationship, platonic or romantic, but writers will often limit such familiarity between characters to the romantic relationships. The first step to writing an interesting friendship is to not do that. Show that your platonic soulmates understand each other and are vulnerable with each other. Here are some easy ways to do that:

Character A knows all of Character B’s personal preferences--likes and dislikes, including small things like food, flowers, music, etc. 

A can finish B’s sentences for them. 

A is willing to talk about their feelings when B asks if they’re okay.

A and B trust each other and know the other always has their back

A and B will occasionally reference events in their shared history and even have inside jokes

A will seek B out for comfort when they are upset.

A and B almost never miscommunicate--they know what the other means when they say something, and will immediately notice if the other is acting strange.

A and B can communicate with each other silently, via subtle looks, eye movements, or gestures.

Selflessness:

To quote a grossly over-marketed Disney franchise, “Love is putting someone else’s needs before yours.” This is the simplest and also most accurate definition of love I’ve come across, and it is universal to all kinds of relationships. So in order to make your platonic relationship compelling, you need to show that the characters are willing to make sacrifices for each other--even big ones. Make sure this is a mutual exchange between both characters, because otherwise you risk making the relationship look a bit toxic. Here are a few of my favorite examples of selflessness between friends/family:

Character A willingly puts themselves in harm’s way in order to protect Character B.

A is always ready to drop what they’re doing and come to B’s assistance. 

A and B regularly do small favors for each other without being asked. 

A is always mindful of B’s needs and makes sure they’re taken care of.

A and B always do their best not to hurt each other, either physically or emotionally. 

A is openly very worried whenever B is in danger and stops at nothing to help them.

Affection:

This is the part where most writers balk when writing platonic relationships. “They can’t touch each other!!! That’s sexy and weird!!!” No, it’s not. This idea that any and all signs of affection are exclusive to romantic relationships is toxic, and we need to wipe it from existence. Obviously there are different levels of physical intimacy, and some absolutely are exclusive to romantic relationships. Here’s a list of No-Gos if you want to keep a relationship completely platonic:

Kissing on the lips/mouth/neck.

Gazing deeply and silently into each other’s eyes for long periods of time for no other reason than to simply Gaze.

Doing the Do or otherwise touching each other in an explicitly sexual way (I feel like this one should be pretty obvious. Also wth guys, that stuff is grooooosssssssss 🤢)

Honestly those are the only ones that I can think of that are always exclusively romantic. Everything else requires pre-established context in order to be taken as such. So here’s a list of affectionate gestures that are totally safe for established platonic relationships!

Little forehead/cheek kisses.

Hugs--yes, even prolonged ones. Sometimes friends/family just want to hold each other for a while, and not in a sexy way. 

Holding hands.

Leaning on each other.

Playing with each other’s hair or gently petting it in order to offer comfort.

Sleeping next to each other when circumstances require it (and neither of them makes any fuss over it)

Saying “I love you.” STOP MAKING THIS AN EXCLUSIVELY ROMANTIC THING, PLEASE, FOR THE SAKE OF ALL THAT IS PURE IN THIS WORLD!

Touching foreheads (my personal favorite of the lot!)

Maintaining prolonged eye-contact during moments of sincerity and communication, especially if Character A is trying to tell B something important.

Sweet little smiles, or other such soft looks of fondness

And many other gestures that I don’t have time to go over in this list.

Tip the First: When writing platonic affection, be sure to bear in mind your characters’ personalities and physical differences. For example, if Character A is significantly bigger and heavier than Character B, they probably wouldn’t be tackle-hugging B, because that would risk seriously injuring B. Different personalities also have different levels of comfort when it comes to physical affection. If you’re writing fanfic, it helps to revisit the source material and observe how the two characters interact with each other. And remember: just because two characters aren’t physically affectionate with each other, it does NOT mean they don’t have a deep and meaningful friendship. Also bear in mind that many people have different dynamics with different friends simply due to the way their personalities fit together. Not all of my friendships look the same, and it’s not because of insincerity on my part--I just have different interactions with different people.

Tip the Second: If you want the gestures of affection to really pack a punch, use them sparingly. Save your long, warm embraces for when the two characters finally reunite after a long separation. Have Character A take B’s hand only when they can sense that B is frightened and in need of reassurance. A “First Platonic Hug” scene can be just as sweet and feelsy as a “First Kiss” scene if you do it right! Also, don’t be afraid to talk at length about how a gesture of affection makes a character feel. Describe the warm fuzzies that bubble up in their chest when their friend/family member gives them a hug, wax poetic about how grateful they are to have said friend/family member in their life. Taking time to explore and dwell on a certain feeling should never be strictly reserved for the ones associated with romance. 

And when in doubt:

Observe the professionals. Here are some fantastic platonic relationships from various pieces of media that I take tons of inspiration from:

Frodo and Sam from Lord of the Rings (especially in the books)

Jim and Toby from Dreamworks’ Tales of Arcadia series

Din and Cara from Star Wars: The Mandalorian

Lilo and Nani from Disney’s Lilo and Stitch

So in conclusion:

Listen, I get it. Romance is exciting and cute and sexy and very important in its own right, and society likes to beat us over the head with it these days. But I cannot impress on you enough just how vital platonic relationships are to living a good and fulfilling life. I am who I am today because of the family and friends who have helped me grow. Please don’t disregard it, whether in your writing or in your own life. Cherish friendship. Acknowledge the depth of your platonic feelings for someone. And writers, please don’t be afraid to express those feelings in your work. If we let friendship and family die, I can assure you, any potential for healthy romantic relationships will quickly follow suit. 

[curious-menace]

Have I really ever requested one thing of you (the pegging telltale Riddler h/c)? Time to change that; let's see how the Eddies would respond to being told by their partner that they're a "bad boy" and "need to be punishment" (sexually, of course) - Pegging Anon.

I really enjoy these kinds of asks. honestly just give me a blank check for mayhem, unleash me upon the riddlers like a plague of locusts 

nsfw below the cut

Arkham! Riddler

please be careful with this riddler. He has problems reading peoples tone and if he thinks youre angry at him you're liable to send him into a panic.

he really doesn't like dirty talk. dont call him a slut or a whore or anything like that. Not only is it demeaning and humiliating( 2 things this riddler doesnt deal well with) its just a terrible way to get him to do what you want.

again, the idea of punishment in a sexy setting is a turn off for him. He’s afraid of being strangled or choked and he doesn't find being hit sexy.

to put it simply, this riddler reacts better to the carrot than the stick. if you want a good reaction out of him, praise and affection work better. call him a good boy, give him pets and rewards. 

IF you were to coax him into it, safeword, soft restraints and reassuring from you that everything will be ok, he’ll still probably cry. he might enjoy himself but the emotional stress will still leave him in an utter state.

i know some people use BDSM to cope with trauma but maybe dont try this on him. pitch the idea and let him mull it over. dont bring it up more than once or twice and let him decide

he always needs a lot of aftercare. he needs to be constantly reassured, not just after sex, that you love him , that he’s done well. lots of kisses and soft words and let him rest from the heavy stuff for a little while. 

Blacklight riddler

another riddler you need to tread carefully with. he’s a kinky shit but like...a soft kinky shit who bruises easily.

He wont need coaxing. its either a hell yes or a hell no and you shouldn't push that. He likes sex games but he’s got trauma, sometimes something that was fine yesterday is triggering today so please be gentle and respectful with him.

He doesnt mind being called a bad boy, just not too often. mix it up and don't patronise him all the time . you can tell him off without treating him like a kid. 

he likes edging and orgasm denial as a punishment. just dont ruin his orgasm or he wont let you do it again. 

please don't ever hit him during sex. a playful thump on the arm when he’s telling a bad joke is one thing but if you touch him roughly during the act, even if he knows its coming, he finds it triggering. 

He’s pretty exclusively a sub but don't think that means he’s into punishment all the time. mostly he just likes his dominant to take care of him.

BTAS Riddler

i feel like it would throw him for a loop. he’d be confused as all hell, even if you said it in a sexy voice he might not get the message.

 he’d probably scoff at the idea. the notion that he’s anything other than perfect is laughable. he’s certainly not some sort of bad boy. you should sit on his lap and get him on the same page as you. watch his mouth go dry and his eyes go wide as you explain all the things you're going to do to him for being bad. he’ll do his best to stay composed but we both know its you who’d be wearing the pants by the end of the conversation. 

he’d want to be tied up. he’ll be gibbering and rambling the entire time, desperately trying to stay in control of the situation.  He’ll try to do things for you but a gentle reminder that you’re in control and if he doesn't anything he’ll be punished more will have him biting his tongue. 

I think humiliation works best on this one. im imagining something with rope or his suits since he’s so fond of them. maybe try and make him cum while still clothed? maybe some shibari under his suit jacket? i’ll let you decide. 

he doesnt have a safeword bc he thinks its strictly a bdsm thing and refuses to admit he’s into that. he prefers to use the traffic light system. although you probably had to teach him that. before hand he was using some nonsense riddler made system involving humming different songs. ode to joy for fun/keep going and  vivaldi winter for slow down.  you will have to gently explain what a batshit insane idea that was. 

Original Riddler

I imagine he’d be into it, moreso initially than the others. He doesnt have so much emotional baggage and he’s game to try anything once. 

I dont know if he’d find the idea of punishment sexy but he’ll try it for you. he’d probably just prefer you to frame it as impact play or degradation or whatever “just because” you wanna try it. something about it being a meant as a punishment just seems weird to him 

he does like being called names but in a cute playful way. he’s not liable to take offence at anything you say, inside or outside the bedroom but digs at his appearance do sting a little. even if youre “in character” so to speak when you say them. just reassure him after that you dont really think those things.

He’s one of the tallest riddlers and also has zero shame so you’ll need to be inventive when thinking of punishments. tying him up could actually hurt him with his circulation, he runs around in glittery spandex all day anyway so good luck trying to humiliate him. 

Because he is so tall and strong, its hard to hurt him. you could try spanking him, ask him to count out the spanks and listen as his voice gets higher and more unsteady with each one. 

actually in that note and given his penchant for dress up maybe you could try sub/dom roleplay? pretend you're a doctor/nurse or something and you're punishing him for his bad diet? if the punishment thing doesn't work out at least you’ll both get a giggle out of it. 

Telltale Riddler

Oh he is absolutely going to fight you on this one “i think YOU'RE the one who needs punishing , love.” . if you want to punish him you’ll have to fight for that right

he’s never really subbed before he met you. He’s happy to show you how to punish a sub but he really needs practice letting someone else hold the reins.

he pretends he doesn't like dirty talk. if you get him riled up and start whispering filthy things in his ear he’s going to melt a little. 

I cant think of a specific he’d like or something he’d find egregiously offensive, so i think you've got a blank cheque for mayhem here. do what you like and he’ll tell you then and there if he’s into it or not.  

but no blinders or restraints though. he’s claustrophobic after being in that icebox. He IS an escapartist mind you. even if you put him in something he’ll have wiggled out of it before you can blink . he MIGHT tolerate something just there for aesthetics or because the fabric feels nice, like maybe his tie or your hair bow tied loosely around his arms.

in the same vein, he’s sensitive so maybe you could lightly torture him with some sensory stuff. ice cubes or wax play?

Zero year Riddler

i Cannot stress to you enough what a horny fuck this one is. at the mere MENTION of sexy punishment he’s like “oh yes punish me ive been bad “ wiggling his ass in the air like a target. will call you Daddy regardless of your gender because we all know he has  issues. 

He’s 100 percent going to lean into it, goad you and taunt you to punish him more, get angrier or hit him harder. he gets off on the pain, yes but he also just really enjoys being an insufferable shit. 

“EDWARD THIS IS PUNISHMENT YOU ARENT SUPPOSED TO ENJOY IT” - you, probably. 

i dont think the traditional sexy punishment things will work on this one. youre going to have to get creative. like tell him you are in charge of his wardrobe and death traps for the week. 

something that MIGHT work would be forcing him to wear a toy or even just some lingerie under his suit. He’s going to be embarrassed as all hell because this riddler is a big buff cheeto puff who takes his appearance seriously. BUT he cant deny the thrill of maybe the lace poking out over his waist band when he bends or the outline of a bralette being seen under his shirt, isnt a little arousing.

please dont be surprised when he turns around a week later and pulls this exact same shit on you. 

there you go nonnie !  this one was quite a lot of fun! i have a rule of trying not to write more than 6 points for each but it was hard to compress down this time around. so much variety in personality and temperament in the one character there's a lot to write about 

got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

[lambourngb]

Nailing that Dynamic- Recs - Day 1

Day 1 for Creator’s Week, and I gotta say, this is my favorite fan event, mainly because it was the first one I participated last year. This little rec set is devoted to dynamics, divided into friendship, found family, and finally romantic (and yes, that’s Malex with me.)

We’ve had two seasons of this show, and while I can’t really relate to aliens or even the immigrant story, I do relate strongly to the stories behind friendship. I can say my appetite for fic with a good friendship dynamic will always be there.

Will You Be My Friend- Circle Yes or No (recs)

Finding You by @myrmidryad  (122,000) - If by chance the canon from high school bums you out, this is the story to read. Gin writing malex is always a ‘no-brainer I’m gonna read it story’ for me, but what really set this epic apart was how beautifully Gin writes the friendship dynamics between Michael & Liz, and Michael & Max. It’s a canon-divergent story with no-murder of Rosa or the shed scene, where in order to avoid enlistment, Alex disappears from Roswell and joins the Max & Liz road trip with Michael in tow. They just need to fill that gap between high school and the opening of the dorms at UNM so they can start a life together. And fill it they do with this road trip. There were moments where I sobbed with how badly Michael needed this in canon and didn’t get it. It also made me like Max, so, yeah. Great writing and characterizations here.

Hit the Road by @bestillmyslashyheart - (7,100) - One of the brightest spots for me in season two was Rosa Ortecho, and one of the most frustrating parts of season two was the fact we didn’t get any interaction between her and Alex. *screams* At least I had a few crumbs of Rosa & Maria (not nearly enough!) but still. Where there’s a glaring gap in canon, thank god there’s fanfic. Marlo treats us to a delightful story written post season 1, but had some surprisingly psychic lines about Malex, number one how they don’t think they are good for one another. I really enjoyed what this story says about leaving-  and honestly, the town of Roswell has so much pain tied to these characters, they should all take long road trips away from it.

a few drinks and some conversation by @christchex / @michaels-blackhat (5,600 ) - this one is set post-season 2, with all the complications of Michael deciding now wasn’t the right time for him and Alex, while also working on giving Maria the right space after their breakup.  I think it’s pretty clear that Michael needs a friend he’s not related to and someone he hasn’t slept with - to provide him so low-stakes genuine company outside of the alien bullshit and love triangle dynamics. Christi does this beautifully through the eyes of an OC and the number of times I’ve read this story is like 10, and also, it’s inspired my current story about Michael going on dates.

and headin’ out singing our song by @stars-and-sunshine (4,100) post season 2, Alex and Michael head off on a road trip (okay, this is a trope I apparently like since I’ve recced three stories now, hahaha) after Alex’s car breaks down. There’s a careful space in this story, of two men building a friendship again. The roadtrip details are beautiful, but what stayed with me is a scene in the museum. That summer of 2008 had some ghosts to address.

If I Follow You Home, Will You Keep Me? found-family dynamics

When You’re Gone by @bestillmyslashyheart (8,200) - Before I tell you why I love this story, I want everyone to follow the next link and read this story about email and messages and grief in the digital age [trigger for cancer death] chat history by Rebecca  Armendariz. (She also wrote a follow up called Timelines published by the Hairpin that talks about the memory function on facebook.) So back to the story, this is Rosa, opening her email 10 years after her death and reading the messages people sent her, thinking they were speaking into the void. Liz, Maria, Alex, Mimi and Arturo, all of them sending her notes, sometimes time passes without an email, then an event triggers that memory of Rosa not being there- and yeah, I found this whole thing to be so moving.

Never Ever Getting Rid of Me by @spaceskam - (4,400) this probably could have gone in the friendship side, but I feel like when you work in a high stakes place like a hospital, friends is a term that ends up being too light, and with the level of competition and stress it grows a bond like family... anyway, this is an AU where Michael and Kyle end up at the same hospital as competing interns but some elements of canon are still there.

still fixing all the cracks by @emma-arthur -  (3,400) this is a pre-canon story, set when Alex is 14. He’s still a soft child, being tortured by his dad, and soaking up the attention from Liz, Rosa and Arturo when he breaks a glass and spirals. Heavy discussion of child abuse and homophobic abuse, but a really good exploration of the canon-neglected Liz & Alex friendship, plus with that paternal Arturo Ortecho in the mix...

Ophiuchus by @planetsam - (11,600) the other bright side of season 2 was the reveal of Walt Sanders as being not only Michael’s boss, but someone who knew his mother, knew what he was, and silently looked out for him...now of course I wish he had been more overt in doing this, but fanfic once again has fixed this canon-oversight. This is an incredible look through Walt’s eyes as he gets in over his head adopting an alien child, especially one who already had issues from previous foster placements. I could read a million words in this verse.

The Michael Sanders AU by @prouvaireafterdark (17,000 ) And speaking of great AUs where Michael is raised by Walt, I would be really amiss in not mentioning this one. It’s got hot high school Malex moments, emotional/hurt comfort for both Michael’s past foster placements but also the shit Alex is living with at home. I have to say “Honey if You Stay” is my favorite, just because of how badly I wanted to hug teen Alex...

and finally, no found family rec list could be complete without mentioning the epic series To Raise a Child (117,000 in progress) by @haloud and @maeglinthebold - season 2 put some hits on my headspace and emotional reserves, not to mention 2020 nonsense, so I’m dreadfully behind in commenting on this story. It’s just a huge emotional bandaid for me right now- it takes the idea of “what if the adults in Roswell actually looked out for their children (and other peoples children) and protected them from shit” and what would that change. Michael was found at 7 and then runs away to Roswell at 10, so yeah, humans have already done their best to convince him the world sucks and only finding his siblings matters... Jim Valenti steps in, knowing what he is, and finds him a place in Roswell with Arturo Ortecho. Anyway, everyone gets a turn- Jim, Mimi, the kids, etc in the story, it’s well rounded and fleshed out. Obviously being a malex person my favorite parts are the kid-friendship/this-is-just-a-crush moments in second story, where if you hadn’t lost your heart to Michael Ortecho by then, well, you’re a goner after that story. 

I Could Build Your Heart A Home (malex recs)

time will lie down and be still by @islndgurl777 (29,600) the Practical Magic AU - which I loved but I have never seen the movie it’s based on lol... anyway, this story almost belonged up with my found family dynamic recs, because the story opens with Isobel and Michael being 7 and 8 years old alien siblings and left with Mimi Deluca to raise with her daughter Maria, because with their father recently dead, their mother would soon follow as a species level soulmate bond. Michael vows never to fall in love. Then there’s a beautiful friendship between Maria, Liz, Isobel and Michael as they grow up together that I just wanted to roll around in forever... However this is a Malex rec, so once Alex enters the story in high school and things go down similarly with Jesse, Michael is heartbroken, his soulmate (he thinks) is gone, vanished into the Air Force, and he spends the next 10 years helping Maria, going to school with Liz, and keeping in touch with Isobel. Until 2018 when Isobel finds out her perfect man was like them, an alien, and bad, and they are forced to cover up his murder. Then Alex comes to town. But the soulmate storyline is the winner here and I just re-read it again.

here everyone knows (you’re the way to my heart) by @adamsparirsh (19,700) So this story tackles a dynamic that think will be the death-knell to the Alex/Forrest relationship- the weight of the alien secret and Alex’s responsibility gland and what that looks like to someone who wants to be in a relationship with him. The exclusion. But outside of that- there’s this part of Alex that isn’t willing to let anyone in that isn’t already there, and that’s Michael. I’m fucking weak for stories where these two assholes can’t connect with anyone but each other, and this one hits it. There’s also so many lovely friendship dynamics between everyone showing up for Alex- like Rosa, Isobel, Max, Maria. Obviously this is a Malex-is-endgame story, even though it starts Alex/Forrest.

it’s a long road back to you by @magsthemagical  (17,000) This was an interesting, now AU take on what if Maria/Michael dated at the same time as Alex/Forrest, and honestly, I thought basted on the season two spoilers that was where we were heading. I was gobsmacked by 2x13. Anyway, here’s a story that discusses the tension that would happen if there had been simultaneous dating going on…the parts where Michael sees Alex being open with someone other than him were very raw and true to how I would think he would feel. For 10 years he wanted that and didn’t get it, and so of course the problem was probably him?? Anyway, I enjoyed this a lot, and again felt robbed that we are heading into a new triangle for season 3. 

untouched by @prouvaireafterdark (5,200) - okay, you know when you have an alien soulmate idea in your head and you want it to appear on the page, and then it does and it’s everything you wanted? That’s what happened to me when ‘Untouched’ appeared. Obviously it’s AU, but my reptile brain just loves the idea that Michael and Alex can’t get off with anyone else, and then that frustration builds into a sexy explosion... there’s also some communcation happening with these clowns. But seriously for 5,000 words, A LOT HAPPENS here and I loved every word.

Would you come home by @caitlesshea (1000) How great would have it been if season 2 had ended with Michael and Alex found a baby in a stasis pod instead of Beardy Jones? Like seriously, this short little fic healed so many of my wounds from season 2 that I couldn’t help but include it here. I would take 50,000 more words in this sadly AU take. 

Hoarding you by @foramomentonly (1200) okay, so the rain smell, like 2x04 was low key my favorite episode of RNM ever, especially with Alex throwing that flirty line “It’s smells like rain, that’s what you smell like under the grease and bourbon’ and this author takes that line, and fucking murders me with the idea that Alex can’t move on because of that smell. And Michael is now his, and finds out about it. This is my head canon, okay? No one can talk me out of it.

If you like any of these recs, please leave a comment on the story- a ‘this was awesome’ is enough to propell an author into the stratosphere with happiness, so don’t worry about coming up with a unique, never before shared insight- sometimes a keyboard smash and emogi makes all the difference!

[irwen-s]

Hi I love your regressed Joohyun stuff. I was wondering if you could write how Joohyun is when the little is in a good mood with the other four girls at home. I imagine she has fun and plays with yerseuljoy but always takes time to get cuddles or to make sure her Wannie is nearby. Thanks! I love your writing!

i am here to join the train of baby joohyun writing that has been happening lately 

when in a good mood, joohyun regressed comes off as a peaceful, docile little thing. but after spending so much time with her, her unnies and seungwan have come to understand that there’s more to joohyun than just muted calmness.

joohyun almost always wants to be held, or to at least maintain skin contact with one of the others, and so most of her play time is spent in one of the members’ laps. other times she’s on the ground, sitting between someone’s legs, because she can always be sure she isn’t alone when there’s someone pressed against her back or playing with her hair. she’s naturally a clingy little, one in desperate need of physical affection to remind her she’s being cared for.

the others don’t mind this at all, of course. joohyun doesn’t fuss around much if there’s nothing bothering her, so she’s quiet and tranquil when at ease. she can easily be kept occupied with one of her stuffed toys or even a few fabrics of clothing that are fresh out of the laundry; seated in one of the member’s laps and instinctively suckling her paci, she’ll nose into whatever soft item is in her arms, looking completely enamoured by whatever interesting smell it has. it’s kind of endearing to watch. 

she also doesn’t require that much attention. joohyun is perfectly content with just resting in one of their arms as she listens to them talk, feeling the vibrations of their voice against her back as the arms wrapped around her waist absentmindedly pat her stomach. sometimes she’ll look up and follow whoever’s speaking with her eyes, as if she’s trying to participate in the conversation, though the rest of the members aren’t sure how much of it all she’s actually able to understand. 

at the same time as joohyun appears fine with just listening and being near the others, though, her unnies and seungwan still pour their attention on her all the same. and it’s clear that even if joohyun never asks for it, it makes her incredibly happy whenever they do.

 sometimes when joohyun has just woken up from a nap, she’s picked up in sooyoung’s arms and carried out into the living room where a few of her toys have been laid out. they’ll sit on the floor together with a few toy building blocks and begin to build random things together. joohyun has no real idea what she’s trying to build sometimes, but she loves how the pieces fit together in so many different ways, and sooyoung is always there to help guide her along when she’s lost on what to do next. it’s a relaxing activity that they can both enjoy in peaceful silence, with occasional happy gurgles from joohyun and sooyoung’s answering chuckles. 

other times sooyoung might set up some jenga blocks. joohyun at first didn’t exactly understand how to play the game, but then sooyoung pulled out one of the middle blocks until it was stuck halfway out of the rest of the tower. she nudges joohyun forward then, and when joohyun tentatively pulls the block out, she squeaks excitedly behind her paci to see that despite an obvious gap in the tower, it remains standing.

it’s absolute magic to her. she makes sooyoung do it again and again, picking out blocks for joohyun to pull the rest of the way out, as many as they can until the jenga tower inevitably collapses. joohyun is practically bouncing in her lap by the end of it, beyond pleased and begging sooyoung with little whines to play again. and with a laugh, sooyoung begins to set the tower up again.

once in a while, the rest of the members will join them in playing. the middle blocks are exclusively reserved for joohyun, which means she basically almost always ends up winning. she always bursts into giggles whenever the tower collapses as a result of one of the other members, clapping excitedly and gurgling nonsensically as they groan in defeat. but there are grins all around, seeing how happy joohyun looks, surrounded by the rest of her members, together as a family.

when yerim and seulgi sit down with her to doodle, seulgi’s hands helping guide joohyun’s more clumsy ones as she draws on scratch paper, her cheeks flush from both concentration and excitement as she focuses intently on her artwork. 

yerim likes to tease her about her doodles sometimes, and although joohyun doesn’t really understand what she’s saying, she watches as seulgi says something in protest before giving yerim a light smack on the arm. it leads to yerim elbowing her back, and joohyun just sits there giggling and clapping her hands between them as her unnies get into a funny play squabble. 

(yerim is always the one who saves all of joohyun’s doodles though, and occasionally she hangs a few of them up around the dorm.) 

when joohyun is with yerim, there is almost always something to do, because yerim just includes joohyun in whatever activity she’s in the midst of. if yerim happens to be in the middle of a book at the time, she’ll pick joohyun up and seat her in her lap, then begins to read out loud instead.

at some point she caught on to the fact that joohyun loves listening to the others talk mainly because of the soothing sounds their voices create when joohyun is pressed against them. it always helps her relax, and she grows drowsy just from feeling the vibrations through their chest. it doesn’t seem to matter what they’re saying either. even if joohyun can’t understand, she just enjoys hearing them talk. yerim ends up being the one she goes to whenever she seeks this kind of comfort.

other times, yerim has joohyun in her lap as she settles down in front of her keyboard and sound mixer. it’s a bit too complex for joohyun when she’s little, of course, so yerim usually lets joohyun play around with just the keyboard, since all she has to do is press different buttons and listen as they produce different sounds.

although joohyun isn’t able to actually create any real melody, she seems incredibly pleased every time she presses down on every key and listens as a new sound is emitted. yerim plays along with her, sometimes taps out a little melody and then watches amusedly as joohyun clumsily tries to repeat it with her own fingers, huffing quietly in concentration. 

sometimes it’s seulgi that scoops her up and carries her off, joohyun giggling as seulgi plops them both on her bed, joohyun flopped down on top of her. seulgi usually just likes to listen to music or nap, but joohyun seems to be completely fine with spending time with her despite not really doing anything. she’ll suckle her paci as she squeaks and gurgles, nuzzling her nose into seulgi as seulgi props her up on her chest, coddling her back, equally affectionate. 

eventually they’ll settle in, joohyun resting quietly on top of her and listening to the steady beat of her heart as seulgi scrolls through her phone looking for good music to play on her speakers, humming absentmindedly. 

if one of the other members happen to walk in a while later, they’ll end up seeing seulgi and joohyun dozing away peacefully, seulgi snoring softly, her arms wrapped protectively around joohyun as she snuffles in her sleep.

and with seungwan, joohyun is just content with knowing she’s there, always right around the corner. 

at the end of it all, joohyun usually begins to whimper softly, looking around as if in search for something. that’s usually when her unnies know she wants to spend time with seungwan. seungwan is most often somewhere nearby as a result, always ready to scoop her into her arms whenever joohyun whines for her. once tucked against seungwan’s chest, joohyun breathes a sigh of relief, relaxing in her arms as she nuzzles into the side of seungwan’s neck, taking in her scent. 

it’s clear to everyone in the dorm that seungwan is joohyun’s primary caretaker, the one she always needs to be near. so whenever joohyun ends up regressing, seungwan always makes sure to be home in order to take care of her. 

the two of them spend time together in pretty ordinary ways. when joohyun is little, that’s usually when seungwan chooses to haul out the pile of fresh, dry laundry into the living room. she carries joohyun out and plops them both down on the couch, and joohyun begins to gurgle excitedly behind her paci as she reaches toward the pile of clothes, nuzzling into it happily as she breathes in the scent of newly washed fabric. while seungwan begins to iron and fold all their clothes, humming softly the whole while, joohyun takes a strong interest in sniffing each article of clothing that passes through seungwan’s hands. 

she also watches curiously as seungwan carefully folds shirts and pants, smoothing out wrinkles and tucking in sleeves. seungwan bursts out laughing whenever she sees joohyun trying to copy her, hands firmly patting out the corners of something seungwan herself might have missed.

seungwan also bakes more often, knowing joohyun always wants to watch her whenever she’s doing so. the kitchen is usually avoided since it’s a bit too dangerous for joohyun when she’s regressed, but seungwan will set up her supplies at the dining table and sit down with joohyun in her lap. 

joohyun gets a little mischievous then. seungwan might be singing softly while measuring out some flour, only to squawk in surprise at having some smeared across her nose. when she looks down, she sees joohyun giggling with her paci nearly falling out of her mouth, her palm stained a telling white. 

seungwan, of course, smudges her cheek back. then she has to stop joohyun from trying to knock the rest of the flour over in an attempt to pour it all over seungwan. the dining room is always filled with laughter on those days, and if the other members come in to see the place is an utter mess, at this point they aren’t really that surprised.

as a result, seungwan’s attempts at baking are admittedly not always that productive whenever joohyun is regressed. but neither of them seem to care.

joohyun’s favourite way to end the day is spending time together with all of her members. it usually consists of watching a movie together in the living room, everyone seated around the television, joohyun usually wrapped up in her blanket and tucked warmly in seungwan’s arms.

yerim converses with seungwan about what film is appropriate for joohyun to watch while seulgi and sooyoung banter over which side of the couch they’ll each take, only for seulgi to let out a yelp as she’s dragged into sooyoung’s lap anyways. joohyun squeaks in surprise as she’s jostled by their movements, but then yerim tickles her chin and plants a little kiss on her nose, easily diverting her attention away. seungwan watches on with exasperated fondness, running her fingers through joohyun’s hair. 

the lights will be dimmed, so that they’re all huddled close together and watching the movie. at some point during the film, feeling safe and coddled in seungwan’s hold, surrounded by her unnies, joohyun will grow sleepy and eventually nod off, soothed by the easy rhythm of seungwan’s heartbeat by her ear. 

it’s a peaceful ending to another day spent with the people closest to her. and joohyun feels so incredibly loved.

[anemonereadssometimes]

Top 15 characters from books I’ve read in 2020

Yes I know it’s only been six months. I’ve read 27 books, which is way more than last year, love me some having graduated college and actually have free time. This list was Not Easy, the order changes by the day, and this year was a lot of rereads but I saw this idea and I thought it looked fun so here I am. Without further ado:

1. Kaladin (The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson)

I love my too honorable, depressed, protective boy. He tries so hard all the time, and he attaches and loves everyone. He tries to give everything and more of himself to save and it might not be healthy but I relate so hard lmao. I just love him so much. He’s grumpy as hell and takes too much responsibility but goddamit he cares.

2. Jesper Fahey (Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo)

I just.... I love Jesper. His charisma shines through the pages. Jesper is the type of person I want to be, full of life, and sharing that with other people.

3. Inej Ghafa (Six of Crows)

Strongest person ever, I want to be her or I want to marry her, I’m not sure which. Every word she says is thought through, and she is deliberate, and reflective, and physically, emotionally, and mentally strong.

4. Fire (Fire by Kristin Cashore)

My favorite character from a book I’ve loved for ten years. I reread this book probably once a year, and my love for Fire only grows. She’s immensely reflective, strong, and soft at the same time. She gets to be both. I also love the strong woman who is kind and compassionate and loves children, because loving and treating children well and being strong/ having power are not mutually exclusive. She’s just wonderful, and I never get sick of watching her grow confident in herself and grow outside of her shadows, becoming something reforged. Also she’s beautiful.

5. Wylan Van Eck (Six of Crows)

Hhhhhhh okay I am wylan. I know this. I know that’s why I like him. He’s the parts of me I like lmao. He’s smart, confident when in the right situation, and just honestly the sweetest. When it comes to it, he’s brave, but he feels like everyone around him is leagues above him. Also he loves Jesper which like, yeah dude I feel that.

6. Sophie Hatter (Howl’s Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones)

Sophie is mean as hell and I appreciate that honestly. She’s no nonsense and clever and wonderful. Hella strong character, I love every conversation she has with people. She also has the tendency to fall into repetitive thought patterns which is a mood.

7. Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch (Carry On by Rainbow Rowell)

Ah Baz. Loved this boy for years. We’ve run across another book I reread a lot. Baz is dramatic as hell, has a mean streak, but fiercely protects those in his circle. I am not him, and I sure as hell wouldn’t agree with him on everything, but I respect him as a mage and as a person. Also he makes me cry.

8. Sylphrena (The Stormlight Archive)

God I love Syl. I can’t believe she’s this low on the list tbh but she’s the cheerful counterpart to Kaladin. She’s an honorspren, so not a person exactly, but more of an idea, which is hella cool I wish I was an idea. She’s badass and she cares so much about Kaladin, and about doing what’s right by people. She’s kind and I got to watch her grow her consciousness and intelligence. One minute she is having a philosophical discussion with Kal and the next she’s pretending to be a rock, or sticking people’s shoelaces together. That’s a duality I can relate to and respect.

9. M-bot (Skyward & Starsight by Brandon Sanderson)

M-bot is not a person either, he’s an AI and I love him. M-bot made me cry my eyes out, actually I think every character on this list so far has made me cry except Sophie, and that’s because Howl’s Moving Castle is kind of a light book and I love that. Anyway M-bot is a sarcastic little thing and I love him. His lines are the funniest, but he also cares a lot, and is also runs a spaceship so like that’s awesome.

10. Spensa (Skyward & Starsight)

Spensa is probably my favorite character that I spend the whole book yelling at. Jk, not the whole book, but she does frustrate me. She’s so impulsive, but man she tries so hard and feels so much and I’m a sucker for characters that care. She’s a good egg, go read Skyward.

11. Eric R Bittle (Check, Please by Ngozi Ukazu)

Another character that’s made me cry! This one multiple times! I grew up alongside Bitty in a way, going through college at the same time he did, and weirdly coming out around the time he did as well. Feels like he’s been there with me, and I got to watch him mature and beat his own demons. I’m so proud of him and I squeal every time I see him. He’s such a stinking sweetheart.

12. Simon Snow (Carry On)

Ah yes, another idiot whom I love. But he cares so much!!! He loves with his whole self, he doesn’t do anything by halves. He throws himself headlong into everything, and he may be reckless and stupid sometimes but I love him.

13. Howl (Howl’s Moving Castle)

I listened to the audiobook version of this book, and I honestly think that cemented my love of Howl. The Howl voice the voice actor does is marvelous, and many of his lines had me cackling in public. He’s brash and grumpy and selfish but I love him anyway. Helps that he’s funny as hell.

14. Nina (Six of Crows)

Ninaaaaaaaaaa another character to get mad at, since she has a tendency to do stupid things, but she always does them for the right reasons. She’s badass, and she gives love to her friends freely. She also doesn’t know how to shut up and I love that. Also have a mentioned she’s badass? And beautiful???

15. Calcifer (Howl’s Moving Castle)

Fuckin’ hilarious. 10/10 jokes, the voice actor’s voice was also very good for calcifer. He loves to pretend he doesn’t car but he does. Also in the second and third books he’s hella badass which is cool.

Honorable mentions in no order:

Kimmalyn (Skyward)-sweetest bby, I love her

Shallan (The Stormlight Archive)- haven’t liked her every step of the way but she’s such and interesting character holy crap

Dalinar (The Stormlight Archive)- army general, has killed lots of ppl :/ but he’s so invested in change and doing good, and he pushes himself so hard. Love the way Brandon Sanderson writes everyone morally gray. Good stuff.

Penny (Carry On)- brash as hell, damn smart, will kick your ass, does not have time for you, kinda unlikeable, wait I’m describing book hermoine wait could it be that I loved hermoine in my formative years and now I love the carry on version of her? Mmm not surprising.

[ruthlessnessisyourdesire-archive]

Anonymous said: 

What are some blogs that you consider part of your rp family?

> Aww anon this is a really cool question. Well I have a particular group of people that are pretty much my always follow. I know people do those follower forever but I haven’t done any before. I get overwhelmed as it is with the amount of people who follow me but some blogs that I will never not be following are: 

@coffee-and-guns​ @theyearningtofly​ Uh hello. Have you seen the babes Lotus and Asuka? Feli has some dolls right here and I stan them to death. They don’t get the interaction or attention they deserve and I will fight until they do. Lotus is 60′s pre-tumblr babe. I’m talking OTP from the onset. He literally will destroy the city of Detroit for her. He will go to hell and back for her. It’s amazing how much this ship has taken over my life but our crazy amount of verses and aus is very telling. We have a ton of plot. Lotixty reigns supreme. And Asuka is my Connor’s waifu as well as Callum’s wife. Best babe.  @diivinerose​ Daniela is not just one beautiful muse. She is so diverse in her three verses that she is pretty much a multi. Curly is my chaos doll but also a shy bean with such great ideas. Our aus are another wild treasure trove. Each verse has something favorite in it. Each rendition I love and DD60 considers Main D his true love. Mad D is the other half of the toxicity known as Corla with my boy Corvus. The ship of Main D and Connor was a surprise in the beginning. I didn’t expect it but I’m glad it happened. Cause I just love her clinical coolness against this supposed cool machine who has more emotion than he should now as a deviant. Best Babe.  @stayhuman-genevieve​ @leaderawakened​ @pathdiverted​ Gen is amazing. Markus is tops. 52 is a babe. OK but also Amanda, Louis, Anarchy the list goes on. All of these muses are amazing and it’s just such a privilege to write with such a wonderfully developed original in Genevieve. She is 60′s weak spot. The ruthless one gave up Cyberlife for Gen. That takes some doing. But they have a ton of shit they went through including a terrorist takeover by that aforementioned Anarchy. We have such great plot ideas and I can’t get enough of them. Main Connor and Markus for my gal too. Main Markus all around. I love him damn it. Genevieve is also my Connor’s waifu. DD60 on the other hand.... just don’t let him alone with Corrupted Gen. OTP status right here. Best Babe. 

@dcwnxism​ @soulxism​​ @lethalxarsenal​ @wintcrcoded​ @resentfuldrcgon​ OK but here the list goes on as well. All of these muses canon and original are just amazing. Iron is the queen of angst. Hands down the best at making me cry. One of these days I’m gonna get her back for all the pain. lol Not only is Nines (now known as Cassius) my canon RK900 but my 60′s exclusive 900 bro. That took some doing let me say. Aiden is 60′s soulmate. Sixden is a ship I never expected but it snuck up on me. I love him. I love Lexi so much. She needs more attention. The one Gavin my Connor will put up with.... as an enemy of course. Oh and WuXian? Caleb loves him already. They will shine bright. Best Babe. 

@creatorofclay​

Did somebody ask for the only Kamski of my life? Well look no further than Kam/Ash/Clay right here not only making me appreciate Elijah but turning me to liking him as a character. I didn’t think much of him when I played the game. But let me tell you waifu right here writes him with such humanity (even when he’s being an ass) that gives such a new perspective. 60 is still on that creator nonsense but it’s in the demon au where he gets to shine with his affection or rather verbal brawls effectively with Elijah. My exclusive Kamski. Don’t @ me. Best Babe. 

@rk800isalive​ @imabittercoffee​

Waifu spotted! My platonic soulmate right here. Eme is someone who gave me a wonderful springboard for Sixty to get his hate on with Connor. That hate took a turn I never expected early on. These two wound up getting over their altercation at the tower. They wound up becoming siblings. The only Connor that 60 considers a brother in his main verse. Let me say the work up for this was some good old work. We wrote so many things with them and still do. I adore their human au. Let’s not forget Sierra. I love this bitch. She’s such a contrast to Caleb but man I’m digging it. Also she is the unofficial goth wife of Corvus but you’ll never hear it from him. Or...will you? thinksmirk Best Babe.

@et-liliium​ @musesdivine​

My baby Cherry has wonderful original dolls and I still miss them. BUT I’m super excited to see Lily on her own blog and my babe slowly getting back into the fandom. Sixty is looking to corrupt that sweet flower but it’s Connor that is absolutely in awe of her. He is in love. Let’s not forget Lily being the good to Corvus’ bad. We got some good shit planned for them. She’s the android Suzanne pretty much ;) Seriously check out these wonderful female muses. They are amazing and deserve all the love in the world. Best Babe.

@robobiitch​

Let me throw some love on Moe right here. Yall wanna see full on enemies with Sixty? Look no further but man we have some good ass plot with assassin au with a little dose of angst. Lust already hates/loves his brother-in-law in the other demon verse. The shenanigans are bound for some good shit. A wonderful Connor and that’s the bottom line cause ruthless sixty said so. Literally such a fun and cool person. I love plotting and just hanging. Best Babe. 

@anderson-residence​

Have you seen these muses? I love every single one and Alley always has something in my inbox that either makes me laugh or worry. lol Sending YK to Corvus is probably not the best idea but I love it. I love chatting about aus, plots and everything in between. Each muse is one I enjoy seeing and I really want to interact more with all of them. Sixty just wants to push Hank’s buttons and probably wants to kill Connor but.... lol Best Babe.

@rxseguided​ @repliicantceo​

A literal bab right here. Jesse, Eli and Elliot are all originals that bring so much more to the plate. If you haven’t seen Jesse in action what are you doing? The evil bitch’s daughter herself? Well then sign me up. Cupcake is a doll and her muses are chef kiss. Got it? Good. Lust loves his angel mom but DD is also in love. ;) Elliot is legit one of Corvus’ official cronies. That’s an honor in the worst way possible. Gotta love that human sk verse with Corvesse. Best Babe.

@triptocained​ @syntheticisolation​

Let me tell you all a story about a fed drenched in heavy rain..... No this isn’t a pun. I swear but Norman is literally a highlight and I’m looking forward to that enemies shit with Sixty. Bringing Jayden into the DBH universe is the best damn thing to happen. Danny brings him to life perfectly. I haven’t seen anybody else do this much justice. Norman is yours alone and deserves all the attention. Also let’s not forget Richard. Look I love this knife happy bastard. 60 still wants to show off Monica but he can wait as long as it takes. Always a pleasure to see on my dash. I’m in love. Best Babe. 

@fearlessandchaotic​

Original babes need more love and Hana his no different. Ely has such development and constant shenanigans I love to see on my dash. It’s always wonderful to see but also Sixty is over the moon for Hana. He hates to admit it but the best thing was coming back to his fiery fox. These two have such chemistry with their ruthless selves they’d sit around and poke fun at people instead of working on a case. Seriously go give the female muses their due love damn it.  Best Babe. 

@vexeddetective​

Vex is a precious babe that I adore the hell out of. Sixvin is here fam. Sixty likes to push Gavin’s buttons. We all know how that shit goes down. I will legit protec this babe. Not Gavin tho. He can fight his own battles and most likely end up wrestling with Sixty. That might end up messy good. Also Lucifer.... whenever he pops up my gal Jade is just: well he’s tall and scary. She probably secretly has a soft spot for him. We’ll have to find out. Please go follow for these two muses. You know you want to bishes. Best Babe. 

@swat-cptn-allen​ @det-gavin-reed​

My canon Allen right here. There is no one else who puts this much love into this muse. Webby is a literal precious bean. Sixty loves and hates Joseph. DD is definitely sof for him. Let that sof boy show his dom ;) I love the way Allen is given more development and his own unique persona from the little we see in game. I never imagined liking this character that much but Webby certainly has made me a fan of him. Please go give my canon Allen some love! Best Babe. 

@ambitiouslyruthless​ @fragmented-personage​

Goov is a babe. I have followed them for a while now and Vius was always a unique bab to see on my dash. Sixty still wants to pounce on him. Results may vary into ruthless territory BUT let him love on this original muse. He deserves more attention and love. Let him be that bastard to Gavin. Such a unique portrayal of Gavin that is totally one of my faves to see. I’m excited for the werewolf/vamp thread. Also can’t wait to see what happens with them in their main verses. Best Babe. 

@thirum-stained​

Always a delight on my dash and one of the earliest people to give my blog here a chance. Luna is a doll who has so many amazing muses and not just in the DBH fandom. Vanessa is Sixty’s waifu. She snuck up on him by surprise. He never imagined to fall in love but he sure did here. I adore all of the muses you tackle. I want to interact more with all of them. They’re forever follows on my dash for a reason. Best Babe. 

@theveryfirst​

This is my one and only Chloe. My literal canon babe. No one else compares and Heather is an all around sweetheart with amazing ideas. The plotting is always something I look forward to as well as just being able to chat. One of the earliest to follow me and still going strong on that forever follow list. Sixty adores Chloe. He feels for her more than he’d ever realize. Until he does. Corvus is still waiting to gets his hands on this angelic android. Best Babe.

> There are so many of you who follow that are so talented. It’s near impossible to give love to you all but there are some new babes who just followed that I’m looking forward to writing with. <3

[davidobitch]

Josslyn | Scott Sire

masterlist

(i’ve been listening to this song literally nonstop lately so naturally i had to write based off of it. it took a lot to not write this about todd for obvious reasons. anyways. here’s this for ya) (also i don’t ever proof read so if at points it seems like a 2yr old is writing…that’s why. oops)

also this hasn’t been showing up anywhere so i’m sorry if you’ve seen this already :(

Scott and (y/n)’s relationship was…interesting. For the past year or so they’ve been on and off. Never officially dating, just exclusively seeing each other. They always had talks about one day maybe officially labeling it but neither of them made any effort into doing so.

The two of you were currently in bed watching a movie when Scott’s phone rang. You took a quick glance at the called ID before he answered it. Of course it was David meaning Scotty was being invited to the bars and you knew he was gonna take the opportunity to go out.

You tried listening to what David was saying but couldn’t make anything out. Scott’s answers were vague, like he wanted to hide the conversation. Hoping her didn’t see, you rolled your eyes and moved away from him, eventually getting out of bed and going into the kitchen.

Scott stayed on the phone for another couple of minutes before he emerged out of the room, completely dressed in going out clothes.

“I’m gonna go out with the guys tonight. Are you okay with that?” Scott fidgeted with his fingers, barely making eye contact with you.

Nodding you head, you muttered “yeah” before grabbing your water and heading back to your room.

“Are you sure? You seem upset about it?” Scott says as he follows you, “Did you have other plans for us or something?”

Letting out a deep breath, you flopped down on the bed, “Nope. Nothing planned except spending time with you for once.” You finally looked at Scott, seeing a hint of guilt in his eyes, “Seriously, it’s fine. Just call me when you get home.”

You turned your attention back to the TV, trying to find a new movie to watch but your view was quickly blocked by Scott’s body. You watched as he squatted next to the bed his face only inches from yours, “Will you still come over even if it’s 2am?” Scott says, barely audible.

You couldn’t help but smile at how cute he look in this moment. His hair was a mess, his scruff growing in, and his head rested on his hands.

“Even if it’s 2am,” you replied, softly pecking his lips, “Can you go now so I can watch my stuff,” you joked, causing him to stumble back from your push.

The two of you said your goodbyes and you were officially alone for who knows how long it’ll be tonight. You tried passing the time by binging tv shows, movies, even cleaning but the night seemed to drag on. After a couple hours of nonsense, you checked your friend’s stories to see if anything fun was happening. All it consisted of was the guys doing shots and dancing on each other and at one point there was a video of Zane being..well, being drunk Zane.

With another hour going by since, you checked again and Todd posted a video of them in David’s car, probably on their way to his house. Checking Scott’s location, your assumptions were correct. You contemplated calling him, but you figured he’d call you when he wanted. Passing the rest of the time, you decided to actually fall asleep and hope you’d wake up to his call.

You woke up suddenly to your phone ringing in your ear. “Hello?” you said, voice soft and groggy.

A smile played on your lips when you heard his voice, “Come over?” Scott said, almost in a whisper.

“Of course,” you said as you rolled out of bed to change into better clothes. You ended the call and made your way to his house. When you got there, he met you out front, as always, and escorted you to his room.

The second you stepped into his bedroom, something felt off. His bed, that he made every morning, was now a mess, like it had been slept in but Scott was still in his clothes from tonight. You glanced around the room, trying to find any sort of evidence that helped with your gut feeling, but fortunately for you there was nothing.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked, as he watched you just stand in the doorway. You let out a shaky laugh and made your way to your side of the bed.

“Yeah, sorry. I thought I forgot something,” you lied, not wanting to start anything.

Just as you were about to put your purse on the ground, your eyes landed on something on his bedside table. A wrapper of some sort. And then it hit you. A condom wrapper. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. You didn’t want to believe he was cheating, but you knew it wasn’t from you.

“Who’s the girl?” You asked, your voice low and soft. You kept your eyes on the wrapper, still trying to wrap your head around what could have happened.

Scott followed your gaze, seeing his mistake sitting at the corner of the table. “(Y/n)…” He started to say but he couldn’t come up with an excuse quick enough.

“Her name, Scott. What’s her name?” You pryed, hoping he at least had the decency to know some sort of information.

Scott let out a deep breath before finally giving you your answer, “Josslyn.”

You finally brought your attention to him, “I know we never made it official but I thought we made it clear how we felt, where the line was drawn, Scotty.”

His eyes flooded with guilt and sorrow, his once happy face nowhere near that. “Listen, I can explain if you just let me,” Scott says, making his way towards you. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed you take steps away from him.

“I thought you wanted to be us. Officially. I thought you wanted to stop this whole on/off relationship. But now we’re off and we’ll never be on again,” You kept your cool, not wanting to show him the weaker side of you. “I’m not gonna make a big fuss over this shit but I hope that it was worth fucking Josslyn.”

You walked towards the door, ready to leave but Scott had other plans. “(Y/n), please. I don’t want to fight. I don’t want to end like this.” His eyes were reddening as he fought back his emotions.

Shrugging your shoulders, you took a couple steps back again trying to keep your distance, “I’m not fighting, I just never want to talk again.” You sighed, focusing on your feet.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want to be like one of those assholes,” Scott pleaded, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Your head shot up as a llaugh erupted from your throat, “Are you fucking kidding me, Scott? You say that but here we are. But you know, I guess I can’t be mad ‘cause I was never yours in the first place.” You couldn’t help but keep laughing over the situation, “I can’t believe I was so stupid to think this time was actually going to be different. Everyone said I shouldn’t go through this again and I should’ve listened to them.”

Letting your emotions get the best of you, you finally broke. The tears flowed freely down your cheeks, not caring about anything anymore.

“I’m sorry, baby, I-”

“You don’t have to lie to me like the truth is some sort of chore to you,” You cut him off mid-sentence, “You’re not sorry. You knew what you were getting into and what would happen when I found out. If you were sorry you wouldn’t have even thought about it. So you know what Scott, I’m done.” You pushed your way past him, not giving him a chance to get his apology out.”I really hope she was worth ruining this, all for a quick fuck huh.”

Scotty followed you out as you quickly left, “Please don’t leave like this, (y/n).”

With your hand on the front door handle, you turn around to face the man you once had so much love for. “Please don’t call me, ever again.” And without any hesitation you turned your back on someone who was supposed to be your world.

[starshinegoblin]

The Lyrics Trapped in My Mind

Writer’s Note: This is my second attempt at writing MingXicheng and I wrote it for #XichenWeek2020, This is a soulmate au where if one gets a song stuck in their head it’s because their soulmate is singing it. ♥

—-

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes as he set down his brush. The sound of his older brother’s loud annoying flirty voice coming through the closed door of his bedroom to his boyfriend over the phone made him cringe. There was no way he was going to be able to work and listen to that nonsense. He walked across the room to his desk grabbing his airpods connecting them to his cellphone.

As he walked back to his easel he went through his playlists wondering what he wanted to play. It didn’t take him along after he glanced at the painting to give him inspiration. He went to the one song that’d been stuck in his head since Wen Ning had sent him the link to Advance Bravely. The mind plaguing song was Everything Will Say GoodBye by Jason Zhang Jie. He tapped on it and put it on repeat before stuffing the phone in his back pocket. Jiang Cheng felt a renewed sense of inspiration as he started singing the lyrics while he continued to paint. 

“Everything will say goodbye, sometimes calm like the water…” Jiang Cheng sang not caring about being heard, that is until he heard a sharp loud knock on his door. He took one of the pods out, “Yes?”

The door opened to reveal his brother. “So, Lan Zhan, A-Sang and I were wondering if you wanted to join us for dinner and  some drinks?” Wei Wuxian asked, eyes fluttering in a plea for him to say yes . However, Jiang Cheng really wasn’t in the mood to deal with an intoxicated Wei Wuxian or Nie Huaisang (who’s a clinger and a crier at the drop of a hat) in public. Nope, Lan Wangji could deal with that gremlin on his own and though he felt awful for Mo Xuanyu, the man was dating the little beastie, Nie Huaisang.

“Nope.” Jiang Cheng reaffirmed.

“Please? It’s at House Koi. I know you like it there.”

“You’re allowed to go back? I vaguely remember that you got drunk and punched the owner. Who specifically told you that you weren’t welcome on the premises. And that was putting it lightly.”

“It was the one time and I stand by what I did.” Wei Wuxian replied, firmly. The memory of seeing Jin Guangshan leering at his little brother had made his skin crawl. He never told why he’d been banned but didn’t regret it. Jiang Cheng smiled hearing the protectiveness in Wei Wuxian’s tone. “Besides, it’s under the new management of the peacock and Yao-ge.”

“I still say no.” Jiang Cheng replied, turning back to paint. His mind trying to focus on the music still playing in his one ear. 

“Oh come on, didi!” Wei Wuxian begged, leaning against the doorway of Jiang Cheng’s bedroom of their shared apartment. “It will be good for you!”

“What part of no are you not understanding?” Jiang Cheng sighed, serving his older brother a glare that was dull as a baby spoon. Despite his expression the both of them knew that he was right. Jiang Cheng needed to get out and see everyone. It’d been so long since they’d seen him. The whole breakup with Wen Zhuliu had gone to utter shit leaving Jiang Cheng in shambles. But that was nine months ago and while he was making great strides with painting again, going on his morning runs, and picking up Jin Ling from day care for their sister and the peacock, Jiang Cheng mostly stayed in their apartment. 

Wei Wuxian wasn’t going to let him isolate himself anymore. If his little brother was going to be free of that loser then he needed to get out. He didn’t want to truly make him angry because it would ruin his, Lan Wangji’s, and Nie Huaisang’s plan. He schooled his face into his best pout and pleaded again leaning on something that only he knew as his brother. 

“Besides I heard from A- Sang that Xichen-ge and Mingjue-ge will be there too. Xichen-ge got back last night from Tokyo.” Wei Wuxian stated, grinning from ear to ear when Jiang Cheng actually paused mid stroke the paint dripping a bit onto the canvas. Jiang Cheng’s normally pale neck tingeing red. 

Jiang Cheng’s heart started to race at the mention of their names. He had the biggest crush on both of them since he was in high school and that spark of attraction to both of them never faded. Damn his brother for knowing his weak spot and using it was a weapon to manipulate him. 

“Fine.” Jiang Cheng grumbled, even though he was actually starting to feel excited. His mind accepted the idea that it would be nice to get out with the added bonus of seeing Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen.

“YES!” Wei Wuxian yelped, suddenly across the room,  wrapping him up in a tight hug, “You won’t regret it, didi! ” 

“Hopefully.” Jiang Cheng sighed, as Wei Wuxian bounced towards the door probably to go call his boyfriend and brag about his victory. Jiang Cheng shook his head, putting his pod back in before trying to save his painting. He’d have just enough time to finish and get ready for dinner.

“I knew that we shouldn’t have watched that series.” Nie Mingjue complained as he stepped into the living room of his shared apartment with his boyfriend. The theme song of the show continued  playing in his mind as he spoke. Lan Xichen chuckled from where he sat on the couch relaxing with a cup of fresh tea in his hands. His hair down and wearing his glasses for once. He looked warm and cozy in Nie Mingjue’s forest green henley over his t-shirt and jeans. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t get it out of my head too. Can you imagine listening to Director Wu going on and on with that song on repeat.” Lan Xichen chuckled, as Nie Minjgue lifted his legs up by Lan Xichen’s calves so that he could sit down on the couch with him.

“It’s alright.” Nie Mingjue smiled warmly at his adorable boyfriend and soulmate as he put the man’s feet in his lap. His hands moved to gently massage his feet. 

“Since we agreed to meet A-Sang and the other’s for dinner later. Perhaps it will finally go away.” Lan Xichen laughed, making Nie Mingjue laugh. 

“Or at least distract us for a little bit.” Nie Minjgue replied hoping that it did work. The song was good but he needed a different song to think about when working on his logistics reports. 

“A-Xian said that they would be here in a moment. They just pulled in.” Nie Huaisang informed them, looking up from his phone. A smile on his face as he looked at his older brother and Lan Xichen. Since finding out that Nie Minjgue was his soulmate in high school, Lan Xichen knows that something is up. That type of smile always meant that Nie Huaisang has a plan cooked up. Lan Xichen only hoped that it wasn’t tonight. Nie Mingjue was in a good mood. 

“It’s alright, A-Yao, hasn’t come back yet.” Lan Xichen replied. Meng Yao had left the table to take care of something in the kitchen. That’d been about fifteen minutes ago.

“If he’s any longer Xichen-ge, I’ll go back and save him.” Mo Xuanyu stated as he took a sip of the sparkling pink chardonnay that Meng Yao had brought him. Nie Mingjue gave a nod. Meng Yao had been working tirelessly with his older brother to get the exclusive restaurant back to its former glory. Their careless father had left it bankrupt when he forcibly retired. 

The restaurant is a two story tea house that had been remodeled after years of neglect. The first floor contained the bar, kitchen, restrooms, and a dance floor with a koi pond beneath it. Where they are on the second floor, is where the private booths and rooms are. Tonight they were occupying the second largest room, The Room of Fragrance. Meng Yao and Jin Zixuan had gone with the minimalist but elegant accents to decorate the room. Lan Xichen’s favorite thing about the room is the chandelier hanging above their low table. It’s design being branches from a plum blossom tree dangling down from the ceiling and the blooms giving light to the room. 

“There they are.” Nie Huaisang said happily waving his hand at them like he’s not seen them in years, stirring Lan Xichen’s attention, as the shoji door slid open to reveal: Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, Meng Yao, and Jiang Cheng.  He felt Nie Mingjue suddenly reach over resting his hand on his upper thigh, and he knew that he wasn’t the only who’s breath had gotten stuck in their throat. Jiang Cheng looked good no, damn good. 

His black hair that’d been kept short during his previous relationship was now long enough that he was able to braid it off to one side showing off his stunning sapphire eyes and that long neck. As he took off his pea coat, it revealed he’d chosen a black turtleneck with some very well fitted jeans. He looked healthier than he’d been in the past few months that Lan Xichen had seen through Wei Wuxian’s social media accounts and occasionally Wangji’s instagram when Jiang Cheng was with them. 

“We are sooo glad you decided to join us tonight, A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang declared way too cheerfully, making Jiang Cheng flush as he turned around. Which of course made Lan Xichen’s heart skip a beat and by the squeezing of Nie Mingjue’s hand he knows the other is feeling the same as him. 

“I just bet you are.” Jiang Cheng bites out teasingly as he rounds the table to sit in between Nie Huaisang and Wei Wuxian.

“Oh we are.” Nie Huaisang teases, bumping Jiang Cheng’s shoulder as the latter sits down directly across from Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue. Which of course makes it click in his mind why Nie Huaisang had been insistent that they sit where they are now earlier when they first arrived. His gaze flickering from Jiang Cheng to see the wide cheshire grin spreading across his boyfriend’s little brother’s face. 

“That little…” Lan Xichen hears Nie Mingjue grumble but fade out as Jiang Cheng gives them both a soft smile making Lan Xichen’s brain check out for a few seconds till Wei Wuxian loudly exclaims that he is starving. Then they are all passing around the tablet to order their food.

They are halfway into their dinner when Nie Huaisang says, “You know what I heard today from one of my patients? I heard that when a song gets stuck in your head. That it is because you can hear your soulmate singing it.” 

“Then didi's soulmate has blessed with him non stop singing Everyday Will Say Goodbye, because he’s been singing it for two weeks now.” Wei Wuxian teased Jiang Cheng, making the latter flush and nudge him sharply with his elbow, not seeing how both Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue had stilled across from him. 

“Then Lan Wangji has been blessed with your horrible belting of No Feelings.” Jiang Cheng teased back. 

“Hey, Lan Zhan loves my singing.” Wei Wuxian sticks out his lower lip in a pout,  dramatically turning to look at his boyfriend and soulmate with puppy eyes. Lan Wangji’s small smile and soft nod only makes Wei Wuxian preen turning back around with a smirk and sticking his tongue childishly out at his brother.

“Spoiled.” Jiang Cheng says rolling his eyes despite the smile on his own face. He reaches out for his glass when he notices that Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen are staring at him with a look that makes him still, hand hovering in the air. He blinks looking down at his glass. His cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red that had nothing to do with the wine he was drinking. 

“You’ve been singing Everyday Will Say Goodbye?” Lan Xichen asked, a smile spreading across his face as Jiang Cheng nodded. 

“It’s this opening song to a show that A-Ning sent me.” Jiang Cheng explained.

“Good song.” Nie Mingjue replied, sharing a knowing look with Lan Xichen. It made more sense now. While the two of them love each other deeply. It had always felt like there was a missing piece. Their other half hadn’t been with them but now he’d been found. 

“Yes it is.” Lan Xichen agreed, gaze shifting back to Jiang Cheng. 

----

Refs: 

Idea for prompt from this post by  3rdgymbros

No Feelings by Wang Yibo - https://youtu.be/7dG4yShmxIM

Everyday Will Say Goodbye by Jason Zhang Jie -  https://youtu.be/QI6WHyiFLdc

House Koi is based loosely off the japanese restaurant Gonpachi that was used in Kill Bill: Vol. 1 (2003)