#i love our resident maniac

[ratatatastic]

"Funny enough I—like, if street hockey, ministicks, I always wanted to be a goalie too! Like, for some reason I always wanted to go in net. You know, probably because of [my Dad] and then, um, you know, once you get dinged a couple times and the shots get too hard you realise—then it's not so much fun after all so... Yeah, it was great he'd always—" "You probably wanted to be goalie 'cuz you're fucking crazy, man! Those guys are bananas! I actually went as a goalie in morning skate one time when I was suspended in the coast, and it was the scariest thing ever, bro. It's nothing like blocking a shot because you're literally just standing there, and these guys are shooting right at you. It's unbelievable!" "Yeah! You gotta get in the way of the stuff to save it! That's crazy! I know, and like obviously gear is like great and they don't really feel—but there is, like, that psychological thing going on where, like, you know, you wanna move out of the way 'cuz it's gonna hurt! I get—I mean, it must not hurt that much, like, 'cuz Bob's crazy, man! Bob loves taking—Well, I wouldn't say loves taking it off the head, but he doesn't hate it, like he—" "Feels good?" "You know, every once in a while—they hit him in the head and you go up and say sorry he's like, 'No, no! It's all good! I love it, I love it!!' and like, kind-of shoos you away so."

The Buzz Pod | 8.7.24 (x)

so speaking of banking pucks off bobbys head and how much he loves it flashback to that day in october of 23 where bobby was doing that for practise and managed to rope in matthew to the shenanigans to the utter confusion of everyone involved (x)(x)(x)(x)

[fallingdownhell]

Love your workkk!! ❤️❤️can i get an hc on fem reader taking off their coat revealing toned muscles and abs right before sparring and how childe alhaitham kazuha diluc kaveh will react? Mostly sfw but slight nsfw is okay

Thank you<3 And sure, hope this turned out like you imagined it. Characters Included: Childe; Alhaitham; Kazuha Content: female reader; pre relationship; they are basically simping over you(r form) Word count: 1,1k words

Hope you guys have fun with this one<3

Childe

as our resident fighting maniac, it's no wonder that Childe wants to test and experience the capabilities of any and all agents that get assigned under his command

working under a Harbinger is a great honor, and it helps that Tartaglia seems far more approachable and reasonable than all the others

though you have been warned about his preference for fighting, you still didn't expect him to just straight up demand a sparring fight with you on your first day of duty

you tried giving every excuse in the book, but he kept insisting and in the end, you neither had the energy nor the nerves to deny him any longer

Childe was beaming with excitement on the way to the training grounds, immediately ridding himself of his weapons and getting in the ring, waiting for you to join him

"Come on, it's just a little spar. Nothing too serious~" he continues to coax you with a smirk

you sigh, as you go to take of your coat and other clothing that would just hinder you during the fight, placing your choice of weapon right next to them

when you look up again, you notice Childe staring at you

more specifically, at the muscles that protrude from your upper arms

they weren't really noticable under your clothes before, but it was clear evidence that you did not slack on your training. And now it seemed like Childe was hypnotized by them

in fact, his eyes lit up as he took in your well trained form, no longer hidden under your choice of clothes

the smirk returns to his face and he looks you in the eyes, excited for the, without a doubt, very enjoyable spar that's about to take place

Alhaitham

Alhaitham and you have been well acquainted for a few years now

it's like a sort of friendship that has formed between you two due to circumstances aligning, and after all those years, the friendship has still survived

it's not like you guys were together every single day, it's more like the occaisonal hangout once every (other) week, catching up with each other again, before going back to your own lives again. Then rinse and repeat

you are both aware of each others occupation and hobbies. Like, you knew that Alhaitham was currently under a lot of stress due to temporarily being promoted to Acting Grande Sage, and he likes to read during his free time

as for him, he was aware of your hobby with self defense fighting styles, and that you were teaching some classes from time to time

however, it seems that it never occured to him that thanks to your hobby, you would logically also acquire a figure that would prove that visually

so, when for one of your meet ups, you asked him to meet you at your current training spot, he thought nothing too much of it, making his way there after he was done with all his other responsibilities

when he arrived, you were still invested in your training, and since he didn't want to interrupt you, he planned on sitting down and reading his book while waiting for you

that was his plan... until he snatched a glance at you

seeing you in your work out clothes, toned abs clearly visible now in the daylight, something in him froze up, not letting him take his eyes away from you anymore

he was mesmerized by your form, how your body looked and how well trained and fit you seemed to be. In this moment, he felt like a fool for never realizing what such intense training would do to ones body

and he had to admit... he definitely liked what he saw

after your training was done, he would act respectful and not comment about it, stating that he didn't mind waiting for you. But that doesn't mean that he's not still thinking about what he's seen today..

Kazuha

you haven't really known Kazuha for too long, but you've grown to really like the wandering samurai a lot

his calm, collected way of speaking, along with his kind personality was a breath of fresh air to you, one that you really desperately needed

you enjoyed the time you spend with him, sitting around or walking through Liyue Harbor, listening to the storys he tells you about his travels. You always listen very closely to everything, soaking his storys up

on the other hand, Kazuha really enjoys sharing his experiences with you. He adores the excited glint in your eyes and how you focus on each word that leaves his lips

the more you two got to know each other, the more time you spent together. You began wandering around Liyue, outside the city, exploring the nature and wildlife together

often times, Kazuha would pick you up early in the morning, spending the day hiking up mountains with you, finding a beautiful spot where you can rest and just look up to the sky together

and although this is all nice and everything, that doesn't mean it can't get dangerous along the way

this time, on your way back down from a mountain, you guys got attacked by a swarm of Hilichurls. They got you cornered and surrounded, but Kazuha and you were quick to pull your weapons and fight yourself a way out

though Kazuha's fighting style was much more elegant than yours in your personal opinion, that doesn't neglect the fact that you were very well adapted with your own weapon of choice

however, in the midst of the battle, one of the monsters got a grip of you. You had to sacrifice your favourite coat to it, in order to not get hit by it, but you took it down swiftly afterwards. However, the coat was ruinied

when everything was over and Kazuha went to check up on you, he noticed that your coat was gone, and admittedly, he couldn't help the way his eyes were wandering over your body

he had never seen you without a coat on, seeing as you were always meeting up outside and it was late fall already. And since you were mostly wearing clothes that were on the baggier side, he never would have thought that you had such a well trained body shape

his eyes kept wandering, completely oblivious to the fact that he was staring at you

when you cleared your throat, he snapped out of his trance, focusing back on you, though a blush from the embarrassement of getting caught was evident on his face

"I'm sorry for staring. I just wasn't expecting you to look this stunning under the layers you usually wear."

yeah.. he really has his way with words.

[elryuse]

Can u do a yandere fic vampire Red Velvet x Male Reader?

Details: YN is a hematologist and a certified nutritionist, he has rather a normal if not boring life, well, successful to be exact, but almost 24/7, his life is just work and work.

One day he thinks about life and tries to get out of his usual life, he doesn't like dating apps, but his friend insists him on trying one of those.

He then meets Park Sooyoung (Joy), he doesn't know why but he is captivated by her eyes and they match, they talk and go out, soon YN asks her out for a dinner date. After the dinner, Joy tells YN to take her home and, guess what, she then says sorry and traps him there.

There he'll meet her sisters, Joy apologizes 'cause her she and her sisters can't just go around and feast on people's blood or steal it from a hospital so they need a perfect (unlucky) candidate to fill their thirst.

The girls are not those who just know take but not give, having lived for a few centuries they have built up a big fortune so Irene gives him a deal, a hefty price a month, and YN is only allowed to go home under their supervision.

Why YN but not the others? During YN and Joy's time before that fateful night, Joy learns of YN's blood type and he has a mutation in his gene which makes his blood more rare and it can help them stay full for a long time, longer than usual compared to other people's or animal's blood.

Day by day, they (except Irene) fall in love with him more and start to hate and compete against each other more. Irene tells her sisters that he is just food, no more no less. Irene hates YN for turning her sisters into love craving maniacs, her words, her physical tortures, they hurt him a lot. Gradually, the girls start to resent Irene more. Irene then knows that she is losing her sisters, YN knows their history, what they've gone through together so while doesn't want to, he still helps her, at least for the sake of his love for the other girls.

After that, Irene spends nights thinking about her actions, she wants to redeem herself but not knowing that she will join the circle and compete against them to get YN.

The Cost Of Immortality

Red Velvet X Male Hermatologist Reader

The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the endless rows of blood bags. My world, for the most part, resided within these pale confines. Dr. Y/N, hematologist extraordinaire, by day. Sleep-deprived researcher, by night. The monotony was a steady thrum in the background of my life, a rhythm I barely noticed anymore.

Until her. Park Sooyoung, or Joy as she insisted, was a splash of vibrant crimson against the beige canvas of my existence. Her laughter was like wind chimes in a gentle breeze, a stark contrast to the sterile silence of my lab. We swiped right on a whim, two lonely souls seeking a spark in the digital abyss. Our dates were stolen moments of whispered secrets and stolen glances, a world existing outside the confines of my workaholic routine.

One evening, after an intimate dinner bathed in flickering candlelight, her smile faltered for a fleeting moment. "Take me home," she pleaded, a tremor in her voice that sent a shiver down my spine. But 'home' wasn't the cozy apartment I envisioned. It was a sprawling mansion that loomed out of the darkness, an unsettling air clinging to its ancient bricks.

Inside, bathed in an eerie moonlight, stood two other women, the same captivating crimson eyes staring back at me, framed by raven hair in shades of red. Introductions were swift, clinical even. Wendy, the eldest, with an aura of quiet authority. Seulgi, the playful one, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. And lastly, Irene, the epitome of stoicism, her gaze as sharp as the glint of silver moonlight on a blade.

The facade they'd meticulously crafted crumbled in that instant. They weren't human. A cocktail of fear and morbid fascination bubbled in my gut as Irene, her voice devoid of warmth, revealed their true nature. Vampires.

Relief, a fleeting emotion, washed over me only to be replaced by a cold dread that coiled around my heart. Irene then explained the reason for the charade - my blood. A rare type, a euphoric feast for their kind. The offer they presented was a gilded cage - a hefty sum deposited into my account every month in exchange for my…companionship. Leaving was an option, but only with armed guards as my constant companions.

Trapped, I became their prisoner, their provider. Nights were spent in opulent rooms, my blood sustaining them. Days were a monotonous blur of tests conducted by Wendy, their resident physician, and guarded outings with Seulgi, whose playful demeanor couldn't quite mask the possessiveness simmering beneath the surface.

But it was Joy, with her intoxicating gaze that seemed to see straight into my soul, who held the key to my heart. As weeks bled into months, a twisted dynamic began to take hold. Wendy craved my intellectual sparring sessions, dissecting medical journals with a fervor that both scared and intrigued me. Seulgi sought out my laughter, our days filled with playful banter that often teetered on the edge of something more. Joy… Joy craved something deeper, a yearning that mirrored the burgeoning affection I felt for her.

Irene, ever the pragmatist, remained aloof. I was a source, a necessity, but never an equal. Their affections, fueled by my unique blood, twisted into a possessive love that bordered on obsession. One night, sleep evading me, I found myself wandering the cavernous halls, drawn by a sliver of light filtering from beneath a closed door. Straining my ears, I caught the tail end of Irene's scathing words, calling my presence a curse.

A flicker of hurt ignited in my chest, a silent plea that resonated with the others. A shift, subtle yet undeniable, began to take place. Wendy's once objective demeanor morphed into veiled defiance. Seulgi's playful banter took on a tinge of possessiveness, her playful swats laced with a silent threat. They began to resent Irene's cold control, their love for me blossoming into a silent rebellion.

I, aware of their history, a dark secret Irene guarded with an iron fist, found myself playing a dangerous game. I helped Irene, not out of fear, but for the sake of the fragile connection I had with the others. This unexpected kindness sparked a flicker of something in Irene's eyes - a flicker I dared to hope was redemption.

But redemption rarely comes easy, especially for creatures of the night. One evening, while Seulgi and I were returning from a guarded outing, a tense silence hung heavy in the air. Suddenly, the car swerved, tires screeching in protest as we veered off the deserted road. The world lurched, and then… darkness.

As weeks bled into months, the opulent mansion I was confined to became a gilded cage. The initial thrill of being around captivating vampires dulled, replaced by a gnawing sense of longing for freedom. Yet, a strange sense of camaraderie started to blossom between me and my captors.

Joy, with her fiery spirit and infectious laughter, was the first to chip away at the walls I'd built around my heart. Our late-night conversations, fueled by stolen glances and whispered secrets, transformed into a silent understanding that transcended the boundaries of our situation.

Wendy, the stoic doctor, surprised me with her curiosity about the human world. Our discussions, initially clinical and scientific, evolved into philosophical debates that stretched into the wee hours. There was a spark of intellectual intimacy that ignited a warmth within me.

Seulgi, the playful prankster, brought a lightness to my captivity. Her days were filled with teasing jabs and playful challenges, a subtle shift from her initial possessiveness. There was a sense of innocent affection in her touch, a camaraderie that soothed the ache for human connection.

Even Irene, the enigmatic leader, began to show a flicker of something akin to…gratitude? Her cold demeanor softened a fraction during our bloodletting sessions. The way her eyes lingered on me for a beat too long, the hesitant brush of her fingers against mine while administering the numbing agent – these subtle signs hinted at a transformation within her.

However, Irene's possessiveness manifested differently. Unlike the open affection of her sisters, hers was a veiled control. She dictated the terms of my captivity, monitored my interactions with the others, and treated me more like a valuable possession than a person. This dissonance between her actions and the subtle shift in her eyes created a confusing dynamic.

One evening, after a particularly draining bloodletting session, I found myself alone with Irene in the dimly lit library. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken emotions. Finally, I gathered my courage. "Why, Irene?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Why do you keep me here like this, a prisoner in your own home?"

Irene's gaze snapped to mine, crimson eyes blazing with a flicker of something I couldn't decipher. "You are…different," she finally said, her voice laced with an emotion I couldn't place. "Your blood…"

"It sustains you," I finished for her, a bitter taste in my mouth. "Makes you stronger, keeps you from succumbing to the sire bond completely."

She looked away, a muscle clenching in her jaw. "That's not all," she muttered, her voice barely audible. But before she could elaborate, the library door creaked open, revealing Joy, her face flushed with anger.

"There you are!" she exclaimed, her eyes flashing between me and Irene. "We need to talk." The air crackled with unspoken tension, and I realized with a jolt that the night was far from over. The delicate balance between affection, possessiveness, and a shared captivity was about to be tested.

Joy's anger crackled in the air, a stark contrast to the usual warmth in her eyes. "What did you do to him?" she demanded, her gaze fixed on Irene. Seulgi, her playful demeanor replaced by a cold fury, stepped forward, her voice trembling with barely contained rage.

"Don't play dumb, Irene," Seulgi spat. "We know. The bruises, the flinches… you've been hurting him!" Wendy, her stoic facade crumbling, placed a calming hand on Seulgi's shoulder, but her eyes held a newfound suspicion directed at Irene.

The accusations hung heavy in the air, shattering the fragile peace that had settled within the mansion. Irene, cornered and defensive, finally spoke. "It's not what it seems," she said, her voice strained. "I…" She faltered, the carefully constructed mask of control slipping.

"You what?" Joy pressed, her voice laced with hurt and betrayal. For the first time, I saw a flicker of fear in Irene's crimson eyes, a vulnerability that sent a jolt through me.

Taking a deep breath, Irene confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I was afraid," she admitted. A collective gasp filled the room. Fear? From the ever-stoic, ever-in-control Irene?

"Afraid of what?" Wendy asked, her voice gentle but firm. Shame tinged Irene's cheeks as she met their gazes. "Afraid of losing you," she said, her voice cracking. "All of you."

Confusion clouded their faces. How could their fear of losing them translate to the way she treated me? Sensing their bewilderment, Irene continued, her voice thick with emotion. "You've never needed me before," she explained. "The hunt, the sire bond… I was always the one who protected you from it all."

Her words hung heavy, revealing a truth I hadn't considered. Irene, the eldest, had always shouldered the burden of leadership, of protecting her sisters. "But now," Irene continued, her voice trembling, "he does it all. He gives you what you need. Makes you stronger. And suddenly… I'm not needed anymore."

A heavy silence descended upon the room. The revelation painted Irene's actions in a new light. Her possessiveness, her cruelty, stemmed not from malice, but from a deep-seated fear of abandonment. For the first time, I saw Irene not as a captor, but as a woman grappling with her own insecurities.

Seulgi, the first to break the silence, stepped forward, her anger replaced by a newfound understanding. "We need you, Irene," she said, her voice soft. "Just… differently." The other sisters murmured their agreement, their gazes softening towards their eldest sister.

Tears welled up in Irene's eyes, a storm of emotions battling within her. "But what about him?" Joy asked, gesturing towards me. "He doesn't deserve the way you've treated him."

Shame flushed across Irene's face. She looked at me, her gaze filled with a mixture of regret and something… hopeful? "I can change," she whispered. The night that followed was a turning point. We talked, all five of us, sharing our fears, our desires, and our newfound understanding.

Irene apologized for the pain she'd inflicted, her voice raw with remorse. I, in turn, confessed the strange mix of fear and affection I felt for them all. As the night wore on, a fragile truce formed, a new chapter beginning within the walls of the mansion. The future remained uncertain, but a flicker of hope, a tentative promise of a future built on trust and something more, flickered between us.

The aftermath of the confrontation was a whirlwind of activity. Wendy cleaned my wounds with practiced efficiency, her gaze carrying a silent apology. Joy hovered nearby, her touch hesitant but comforting. Seulgi, ever the pragmatic one, made plans to reinforce the mansion's security.

And then there was Irene. Shame seemed to cling to her like a shroud. Her apologies, though heartfelt, felt hollow in the face of my visible injuries. They were a stark reminder of her cruelty, the bite marks and scars a map of her failings.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted in the hallway. Guards bustled about, their voices raised in urgency. Apparently, there was a malfunction in the security system. They needed someone to manually reboot it – a job usually reserved for Irene.

With a resigned sigh, Irene turned to me. "I need someone to watch you," she explained, her voice strained. "It shouldn't take long." The others exchanged hesitant glances, but in the end, I volunteered. The tension in the room was thick, but the prospect of some alone time with Irene, however awkward, was strangely appealing.

We were escorted to a small, book-lined room that served as Irene's private study. As the heavy door shut behind us with a resounding thud, the air crackled with unspoken emotions. Irene approached the control panel, her back turned to me, her fingers flying across the keypad.

The silence stretched, broken only by the rhythmic beeps of the security system. Finally, unable to bear the tension any longer, I spoke. "It's okay, Irene," I said softly. She froze, her body taut. Slowly, she turned around, her crimson eyes filled with a mixture of shame and disbelief.

"You… you forgive me?" she stammered, her voice barely a whisper. I reached out, my hand hovering over the intricate web of scars marring her arm. Scars older, darker than mine. "We all make mistakes, Irene," I said, my voice gentle. "The important thing is we learn from them."

A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a glistening path down her pale cheek. The sight of it, of her vulnerability, broke something within me. In that moment, I saw not the stoic leader, but a woman burdened by fear and insecurity. A woman who, despite her actions, had always been fiercely protective of her sisters.

Taking a step closer, I cupped her face in my hand, wiping away the stray tear with my thumb. Her eyes, wide with surprise, met mine. Slowly, hesitantly, I leaned in, bridging the gap between us.

The kiss was a revelation. It was raw, desperate, fueled by a desperate need for connection, for forgiveness. Irene clung to me like a lifeline, her initial hesitation melting away into a torrent of passion. It was a kiss that spoke of unspoken apologies, of a newfound understanding, and of a hope for something more, something real.

When we finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, a fragile peace settled between us. Irene, her gaze searching mine, whispered, "I don't deserve you, Y/n." "Maybe not," I replied, cupping her cheek once again. "But maybe, together, we can learn to deserve each other."

The future remained uncertain. But as we held each other close in the dimly lit study, a flicker of warmth ignited within me. It was the glimmer of a new beginning, one built on trust, forgiveness, and a love that bloomed in the most unexpected of places.

The following weeks were a whirlwind of stolen moments and whispered promises. My relationship with each sister blossomed in its own unique way. Joy's fiery spirit ignited passionate encounters, fueled by stolen kisses under the moonlight. Wendy, with her intellectual curiosity, discovered a new kind of intimacy in late-night discussions that morphed into explorations of touch. Seulgi's playful demeanor evolved into a playful possessiveness, her playful nips replaced by gentle love bites.

Surprisingly, it was Irene who turned out to be the most possessive. The initial shame of her actions morphed into a fierce determination to prove herself worthy of my affection. She'd watch, a flicker of jealousy in her crimson eyes, whenever I spent time with the others. But when it was her turn, her touch was the most hesitant, the most tender. It was as if she was constantly afraid of breaking something precious.

One evening, as the six of us sat nestled together by the fireplace, a comfortable silence settling between us, Irene surprised us all. "He's ours," she declared, her voice laced with a possessiveness that sent a thrill down my spine. The others, instead of protesting, simply chuckled, a knowing look in their eyes.

"Ours?" I echoed, feigning confusion. Wendy, a playful glint in her eyes, clarified. "Yes, ours, Y/n. Our lover, our provider, our… family." A warmth bloomed in my chest at the word 'family.' It was a concept I hadn't dared to dream of, not with these extraordinary creatures of the night.

The following months were a blur of shared experiences and deepening affection. We explored the hidden corners of the city under the cloak of darkness, their laughter echoing through deserted streets. We spent lazy afternoons curled up with dusty tomes in Irene's study, their thirst for knowledge rivaled only by their thirst for me.

The nights were a symphony of touch and whispered desires. We explored each other's bodies with a newfound reverence, the boundaries between human and vampire blurring with each passing night. The sire bond, once a source of fear, became a bridge, a way to experience each other's emotions with an intensity that defied explanation.

Our unorthodox relationship wasn't without its challenges. There were moments of jealousy, of possessiveness, but we learned to navigate them together. We were, after all, a coven, bound not just by blood, but by an unconventional love that defied definition.

One starlit night, as we lay tangled together in the sprawling master bedroom, Irene spoke, her voice barely a whisper. "Thank you," she said, her crimson eyes reflecting the moonlight. I smiled, pulling her closer. "For what?"

"For showing us that love can exist even in the darkest corners," she replied. And in that moment, under the watchful gaze of the moon, I knew that our love story, born from captivity and fear, had blossomed into something beautiful, something extraordinary. We were a family, bound by blood, by love, and by a shared eternity.

The End

[simphornies]

Hello, I would like to make a request about Husk x male reader, where the Male reader is a sinner who managed to become an Overlord by creating a company selling weapons. The Male reader arrives at the hotel at Alastor's request and, during this visit, he meets the hotel's residents, becoming enchanted by Husk. Once he finishes the visit, he decides to come to the hotel from time to time to relax after a stressful day, bonding with everyone, especially Husk.

Una noche, están tomando una copa en el bar y los sentimientos afloran, desencadenando una noche de pasión (+18). Por la mañana, ambos se alegran de la presencia del otro. Saltaremos en el tiempo al capítulo donde Husk se enfrenta a Alastor y este lo amenaza.

El lector Masculino ve esto y decide comprar el alma de Husk para poder ser libre, pero decide quedarse trabajando en el hotel, ya que le agrada la gente de aquí. Decides quedarte a vivir en el Hotel ayudando.

Husk: Bottom/Uke

Male reader: Top/Seme

A/N: I don't understand/speak spanish so I hope the translation got it right! Apologies if I got some things wrong 🥲 I also could not write Husk as a bottom...I'm sorry it just didn't go that way for me. He gives off such top energy-- If you need me to make a second part where the reader tops, I'd be glad to!

Word count: 2.5k (2,538)

Hell's Blessing [ Husk x M!Overlord!Reader ] NSFW!

MINORS DNI

You walk into your office, absolutely exhausted from your day dealing with the sinners under your control. You knew what the costs of becoming an overlord was but at the end it was all worth it. Power and safety. You decided to get ready to head out and visit the Hazbin Hotel, per Alastor’s request. You put on the best suit and tie you owned, making sure your hair was slicked back, not a hair out of place.

Upon arriving, Alasto greets you at the door with his signature smile. “Y/N! Glad you could make it here. Quite a pleasure. Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel.” You walk in and he gestures to the lobby, “Come meet our lovely staff. This is Charlie Morningstar, founder of the hotel, princess of hell and heir to the throne.”

Charlie runs over to you, eagerly shaking your hand, “Hi! Welcome! Nice to finally meet you!” She smiles, “This is my girlfriend, Vaggie!” She gestures to the one eyed angel next to her who waves in response.

Another resident walks up to you, leaning an arm on your shoulder with a seductive grin. “Hey there. I’m Angel Dust.” He winks, “You look like a fun night~” He purred into your ear. You quickly stepped away and dusted off your shoulder before you walked over to the bar to meet the others.

“Hello! I am Sir Pentious! Builder extraordinaire!” He saluted you, “It’s an honor to meet you! I adore your weapons.” A smaller figure runs from behind him, climbing up your suit to smile closely to your face, giggling maniacally.

“I’m Nifty! I clean.” She laughs as she stares into your eyes. You laugh awkwardly and put her down on the ground to which she immediately scurries away. You glance at the bar and as soon as you lay eyes on the bartender, you feel your heart pound faster.

“I’m Husk. Bartender. Want a drink?” He hands you a glass filled with whiskey which you take as you sit down.

“Pleasure to meet you all. Please, please, continue on with regular matters. I’m just here to visit and check the place out.” You say. Alastor phases next to you, grinning with what you assume to be delight.

“So! How do you like the place? Charming isn’t it?” He asks you, eagerly awaiting your response. You take a sip of your drink and nod.

“Charming indeed. A good endeavor, I’m sure.” You glance up and observe Husk cleaning a glass before turning your attention back to Alastor, “I believe this is a good establishment for me to invest protection weapons in if need be.”

“Wonderful! I’ll leave you here to settle in! Drink, Y/N!” He gets up and phases away into his shadow.

Husk rolled his eyes, “How do you know the boss?” He asks, leaning against the bartop.

“We’ve done business before,” You nervously fiddle with your glass, “He’s yet to do me wrong so I decided to entertain his invite. The atmosphere here is definitely better than the atmosphere in my side of the city.” You gaze into his eyes, seemingly entranced.

He scoffed, “Yeah? Well that makes one of us. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t have to be.” He grumbles. You didn’t pry on his statement, not wanting to push too far considering you just met. Instead you just continued to make small talk, drinking the night away.

After your first visit, you frequented the hotel and always hung around Husk at the bar. You spent time with everyone equally but something about Husk just triggered something in you. You formed a deep bond with him, often ranting about the customers you’ve had to deal with everyday. He always made you your drinks the way you like it, listening to you intently. He went from being closed off to looking forward to your next visit.

After an extra stressful day, you stumbled into the hotel, eager for a drink. Husk had already prepared you your usual before you even sat down. “Rough day, huh?” He chuckled, “You’re late today. I thought you weren’t even coming. Everyone else either went to bed early or fucked off somewhere.”

You groaned, “The customers today were extra annoying,” You hissed, downing your glass immediately. “I need a couple of bottles tonight.” You rubbed your temples and sighed, “I want to just lay down and drink the night away. I don’t want to think about those little shits.”

“Well lucky for you, your closest friend here is a bartender.” He slid a bottle to you, “Didn’t think tonight was a drink-to-forget kind of night. Tell me all about it.”

You ranted about your day from the Karens of Hell to the weirdest orders to the most impatient of customers that insisted they get their order as soon as they paid you. Husk sat down next to you, listening intently. What you didn’t notice during your rants was how he looked at you with admiration.

As the night progressed you both had drank too much a bit too much and shared absolutely anything and everything. “You know…” You begin, “...I’m glad I accepted Alastor’s offer to visit. I’m glad to have met everyone here but especially you.” You confessed, playing with your drink swirling it around in your cup.

“Yeah. I’m glad I met you too.” He chuckled, “I think I’ve gotten used to you, Y/N. I like being around you.” You blushed at his statement, thankful that it wasn’t obvious thanks to the alcohol.

“I like you too.” You spoke a little too fast. You forgot to add in a couple of words but before you could correct yourself Husk spoke up.

“What?” He blinked at you, taken aback at your words.

You feel your face warm up a bit more, “What! I meant…I meant I like being around you too! Haha…” You laugh awkwardly. It was quiet for a moment and you felt your heart begin to sink, scared that he didn’t return your feelings.

Husk grabs your hand and pulls you close to him, kissing you with passion. You held onto him as he lifted you up onto his lap. The two of you only pulled away for air and as you were gasping, he lifted up your chin so he could look into your eyes.

“I thought you’d never say that.” He smiled, kissing you again as soon as you caught your breath. The two of you ended up in his room, kissing with such hunger. Soon enough, both of your clothes were on the floor and the door was locked. He got on top of you and kissed your neck, making his way down to your chest to leave a trail of hickies. You humped up against him, begging for friction to which he chuckles.

He reaches down and strokes your cock, slowly to tease you. You whined at the speed, jerking your hips for more attention. He held your hips down and unwrapped his hands from you. “Somebody’s eager.” His deep voice sent shivers down your spine. You look down and see his own hardon, twitching and leaking with pre-cum.

You get up to give him attention, hungrily taking him into your mouth and earning a deep moan in response. He placed a hand over your head, petting you for your good work. You bobbed your head up and down while your hands reached down to give yourself pleasure.

He pulled you off, a pop sounding from your mouth. You were a drooling mess, looking at him with lust filled eyes. You lay down with your ass up, eager to take him in. “H-Husk please…” You begged. He enters you with no hesitation, your spit lubing him up enough to make the entry effortless. You shivered with delight and moaned as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. His hand went up and down on your dick causing you to moan louder in pleasure.

You felt him twitch inside of you, his rhythm fading away into fast paced thrusts. He moans in your ear and you swear that the sound of him almost sent you into climax. He grabbed your hips tighter, “Fu-Fuck…Y/N…” He moaned, “I’m going to-”

You were drooling in pleasure underneath him, feeling your own climax inching closer and closer. It wasn’t long until the knot in your stomach snapped and you released all over the sheets underneath you. Husk felt your walls tighten around him, sending him to the edge. You feel him fill you up to the brim. He leaned over your body, purring in pleasure. After a while, he slowly pulls out of you, the cum dripping out. He chuckled at the sight of you, a powerful overlord, being a drooling mess on his sheets. He grabbed a wipe to clean you off before cuddling up to you. You sigh happily, nuzzling your head into his neck as you listen to his low purrs.

“You’re…amazing. You know that? In every sense.” You speak softly. You feel him hold you even closer. “I’ve been enchanted by you since I first laid eyes on you. I believe I’ve fallen head over heels for you, Husk.”

“I love you too, Y/N. You melt my cold little heart.”

The two of you drifted off to sleep in each others’ arms, happy and content.

The following day you woke up before him. Your mind was still foggy from waking up but memories from the night before came flooding in as soon as your eyes focused and you saw a sleeping Husk in front of you. Your face flushed a bright red and went even brighter upon realizing you’re both naked. In bed. Together. Husk woke up soon after you and gave you a smirk upon seeing your flustered self.

“H-Husk! Good morning!” You laughed nervously. You turn your head as to not face him but he gently guides your face back to look at him.

“Good morning, babe.” If you could short circuit like the other overlord, Vox, could you would most definitely be short circuiting right now.

“Sorry I-” Your voice cracked, “I’m just…”

“What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, pointing to himself. You couldn’t help but laugh at his pun.

“I’m just nervous. That’s all. I just…You know…Last night we.” You stutter out. Before you could continue, Husk kissed you, shutting you up. You closed your eyes and leaned into him happily.

He breaks away from you before getting up, “C’mon. Let’s go take a shower together.” He winked.

After you two dried off and got dressed, you headed off to the lobby so Husk can start his day. You wave everyone goodbye and give Husk a kiss before leaving. You run out, escaping the questioning they certainly gave him, not wanting to meet the same fate, laughing.

.

It’s been a couple months since you and Husk spent a night together. You two had officially been a public couple, even letting your relationship be known to your people. If you weren’t already frequenting the hotel back then, you were certainly turning into a regular now, even coming in during work hours whenever you make a delivery close by. Today was one of those days, you were a couple of minutes away and decided to stop by and say hi to everybody. To your surprise, the lobby was empty of people. Charlie and Vaggie were out, Angel Dust was at work, Sir Pentious was nowhere to be seen and Nifty was most likely chasing bugs on a different floor.

“Hello?” You call out to no response. You head towards the bar to only find that empty as well. You wandered the halls until your ears caught two voices from around the corner. Before you could run over there you hear Alastor yell. You stopped and peeked around the corner.

“How many times do I have to remind you to never mention such things to me?” He growled. On the floor in front of Alastor was Husk, shaking in fear with chains around his neck. You hold yourself back from gasping. “Do not forget. You’re on my leash. And you’re getting quite pesky to deal with…” Alastor wraps the chains around his hand, pulling Husk closer and closer to his demon form.

Before anything could happen you jump out of the corner, “Alastor!” You yelled, your own demon form coming out. His neck snaps 180 degrees to look at you, his body unmoving. “What are you doing?”

His eyes squint towards you, his smile getting wider. “My! Who do we have here?” He speaks, voice laced with his radio filter. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here today, Y/N?” 

“Let’s make a deal, Alastor.” You state, “I want his soul. I will pay you for his soul. Fund this hotel, make it better and promise you my company’s undying loyalty and protection. In return, I want his soul.” Your voice distorted at the last word, staring him down with confidence and pride.

Alastor glances down at Husk, still terrified out of his mind before looking back to you. He phases out of his demon form, turning back to normal and you do the same. “Hmm…” He considered, “Well he is getting a bit difficult to deal with. And I would hate to find a different bartender if I were to get rid of him so…fine.” He extends his hand out to you, glowing green. You shake it and the green chains around Husk’s neck disappear from Alastor’s hand. The chains turn a yellowish white as it gets passed to you. The opacity turned more translucent.

You dismissed it and grinned at Alastor. “Pleased to be doing business with you, old friend.”

“Quite a pleasure indeed! Now! I have a radio show to broadcast. Enjoy~” He hummed before disappearing into the shadows.

You run over to Husk shaking on the floor, “Husk…I am so sorry I wasn’t here sooner. I’ll give you back your soul, I just…I didn’t know.” He gave you a quiet hug, a hug that lasted a while.

He pried himself off of you and gave you the most heartfelt smile you’ve ever seen him give, “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you.” He gave you a kiss filled with passion. You felt him melt against you with his wings wrapping around you both. “Keep my soul, Y/N. But…I can’t leave the hotel. I’ve gotten used to life around here and I don’t think I can move in with you…I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, “Nonsense! I would never ask for such a thing. I’ll give you back your soul-”

“No. Keep it.” You blinked at him, confused and shocked, “Take it as my dedication to you, Y/N. I love you.”

Your shock expression melted into a heartfelt one. “Thank you…Husk. Don’t worry about moving anywhere…” You hugged him, head resting on his chest, “I’ll move here. I can run my business away from my building. I want to be with you and the people here at the hotel. I’ve grown accustomed to it.”

He held you, purring as he did so. “Thank you, Y/N. You’re a blessing in this Hell."

[covetyou]

y2k

moodboard and fic inspo by @psychedelic-ink main masterlist

rating: Teen (this is an 18+ blog) warnings: fluff, Joel and Sarah being domestic and cute af, swearing, Sarah being a little shit. No outbreak. word count: 876 summary: a morning in the Miller Household with our fave resident Girl Dad and his Daughter (who is a little shit affectionately).

A/N: @psychedelic-ink is having a cute lil joel miller birthday bash and i requested a silly y2k moodboard in honour of the occasion. This spawned from my brain before I could stop it. Happy Birthday, JM!

if my boss asks, i've been working super hard for the last hour and not writing this.

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Joel sat at the kitchen counter, nursing his morning coffee. It was a clear day, the heat of summer dwindling now that October was approaching. He relished these quiet moments in the mornings, just him and his world inside that house, safe and sound.

Even after 15 years though, the silence never lasted long. He was glad for it - he dreaded to think how quickly the days of silence would come and how much he would long for the noise.

As expected, footsteps thundered down the stairs.

One day that kid's goin' to bring this fuckin' house down.

"Hey Dad," Sarah says breathlessly as she sidles up to Joel. She's hiding something behind her back, and Joel well knows that look on her face by know. She's been up to something.

"Mornin' kid," he smiles. Whatever she's up to he doesn't care, seeing the best thing he ever did every morning always put a smile on his face. "What you got there?"

"I got something to show you," she bites her lip. "I made it."

Joel's heart wants to burst out of his chest. As a kid, he was always being gifted little drawings and creations - pictures of them in their house, a deranged looking cat with too many legs (a sign from Sarah that she really wanted a pet kitty - he wishes he could've said yes to her, but his allergies would never let it happen), a paper mache lump of something she'd made and painted. He kept it, but he still didn't know what it was. My babies first abstract art he'd joked at the time. It had been years since she'd made anything for him, she was more into playing with friends and sports than arts and crafts with her old man these days.

"Alright then, let's see it," he turns to face his daughter as she pulls her laptop from behind her back. It was a birthday gift this summer, and she was rarely off the damn thing - she said it made homework easier than having to use the family desktop computer, but he still didn't quite believe she didn't just use to to talk to her friends until the early hours of the morning. Still, he could never say no or be mad at her for much of anything for too long.

"And you ain't takin' that to school."

Sarah rolls her eyes. "I'm not. Look."

She points to the screen.

"I was up all night making it for you - Happy Birthday, Dad!"

It's... well. It's something else. Pictures of him (he recognized one as a picture she had taken 5 years ago) and the two of them together, all interspersed with a collection of other images he wasn't familiar with but somehow seemed to match. Joel's stomach dropped with it - if this is what his baby girl was into, maybe she'd changed more as a teen than he thought. Still, she'd made it for him. It was special.

"I... it's..." Joel was getting genuinely choked up. He didn't care what it was. He just loved that she made it for him.

"Don't you love it?" she prods his arm, grinning like a maniac.

"I do." And he did.

"The color pallette is so cute right, and this picture is my favorite." She points to a picture in the middle from a 4th of July last year - Her and Joel had gone to a neighbors house to celebrate. There'd been a bonfire. "I put filters on everything to make it more pink. It really gels it all together, don't you think?"

It was one of his favorites too. Even with... all the pink.

"It is uh, real pink, yeah," Joel says, scratching his neck. "It your new favorite color or somethin'? We need to paint your room again?"

Sarah's face drops. "I - I thought it was your favorite color, Dad." She looks devastated.

Joel is dumbstruck. What does he say. He flounders, stuttering, trying to find the words.

Suddenly, Sarah's face breaks into a shit eating grin big enough to rival Tommy's.

"I'm just fucking with you dad."

Joel's eyes snap to hers, a warning, and amusement, flashing across his face.

She holds her hands up in surrender. "Messing! I'm just messing with you."

"Well, I love it anyway. Even if you are just messin' with me," he kisses her temple and pushes her toward the door. "C'mon, lets get goin' or you're goin' to be late, and so am I."

Sarah rolls her eyes, gathers her school bag and heads for the door with Joel in tow. They both head for his truck, starting their day the same way they always do - together.

Joel stops before he reaches his truck, placing a large hand on the hood and looking over to his daughter. His - how did he get so lucky.

"Hey kid... can you send me that picture when you get home from school?"

Sarah smiles. It was a silly joke, but she's glad he loves it too. "Sure thing, Dad."

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[atombombkaytee]

My Echo, My Shadow and Me (Part 2)

Summary: Hancock and I retire to The Third Rail after a long day to find that it’s particularly busy. Still, we manage to find a quiet spot to indulge in heavy flirting, booze and chems. However, I notice a shadowy figure across the room - somehow, neither Hancock or I recognise the stranger (another ghoul). Hancock is keen to introduce himself but the sheer amount of intoxicants we’ve consumed could have the potential to lead to a very interesting evening.

Pairings: Hancock x Female OC/Reader, Cooper Howard (The Ghoul) x Female OC/Reader

Warnings: (In future parts - all of the following) Heavy alcohol/drug use, public groping, smut, MMF threesome, anal.

(Part 1 here)

Part 2

After a few hours, I'm struggling to focus and my speech is slurred. However, the entire night has been spent laughing maniacally at the ghoul that I've been cuddled up with. Hancock can handle his liquor much better than me, but he's also been alternating between huffing on Jet and popping Mentats. His favorite combination - chasing the upper and then riding the downer - it led to hilarious conversations.

“Holy SHIT! Do you remember that fucking molerat - that thing went absolutely flying!" He laughs uproariously, nearly toppling the rusty metal table in front of us, clutching his knees for support. Tears of laughter fill my eyes as I try to stifle my giggles. My makeup is likely ruined but the alcohol is dulling my concerns.

“We have sure had some crazy times together…” The fiery sting of whiskey rushes down my throat.

I swing in place before slumping against his shoulder and looking up in admiration at the handsome ghoul sitting beside me. He inclines his head to meet my gaze.

“And, my love, this is just the start. You know being here with you is the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me… right?” He swoons, maintaining his stare. Even beyond the alcohol, I can easily uncover the arousal beyond his eyes. If he could, he would probably just have me - right here and now.

I slide my hand clumsily across his thigh, towards his groin and, with it, I catch a swollen erection beneath the fabric of his slacks. Chewing at my lip, I avert my eyes down to admire it. The visible bulging lump is enough to send a flood of liquid trickling into my panties.

With unwavering determination, I maintain the rubbing motion, stimulating his cock beneath the layers of his clothing. Placing my lips against his neck, I tenderly bite down on the elastic flesh nestled there.

“I want you…” I whisper as I move up his neck to connect with his lips. He clashes messily against me, using his tongue to greedily explore my mouth. Our intoxication leads to sloppy, wet kisses. Gripping a fistful of my hair, he pulls me away and holds me in place just inches from his face. The palpable presence of his breath, generating a sensation of warmth against my lips, coincides with the slow, deliberate advance of his other hand towards my thighs, where it delicately brushes against the damp fabric of my underwear. His fingers linger there for a brief moment of stillness, before eventually retracting back.

“Not yet…” Releasing my hair, he jerks me back into position, then promptly seizes his half-full glass once more. Even though he's not making eye contact, I can detect the smile playing on his thin lips, understanding that he’s driving me wild.

“You think you can be a little more patient, dollface? It’s not even midnight yet!”

I pout and tightly cross my legs. Trying to ignore the swollen heat of my cunt between them.

While Hancock throws back another shot - my eyes roam the bar. The noise has diminished noticeably as a large portion of the previous attendees have either retired to their rooms at the Hotel Rexford or are congregated around various tables, showing signs of weariness from their festivities. 

I recognize a lot of them - regular faces around Goodneighbor. Some of them are residents, some traders, some mercenaries looking for work, or lost souls that just couldn’t stay away from The Memory Den. But there are also some unfamiliar faces.

Across the room, a group of unkempt women who appear to be raiders are seated around one of the small metal tables. Since they are not causing any disturbances, they are being treated with the same level of acceptance as everyone else (at least for the time being). Two tables over from me and Hancock, an unknown elderly ghoul couple catches my eye. I can't help but smile fondly as I observe the man lovingly place his jacket around his partner's shoulders, shielding her from the chilly breeze.

I quickly shift my focus from table to table, until my attention finally lands on a man by himself, near the back room. Despite the distance between us, and the fact that his eyes are completely obscured underneath a cowboy hat, I can tell that he's a ghoul. The flickering candlelight on the table casts dancing shadows across his face, highlighting the dark, mottled skin and the void in place of his nose. He absentmindedly manipulates an object in his hands. When the spotlights shift to him, a glimmer from the item catches my eye. Is it a knife?

I gently prod Hancock, who is lounging on the sofa with his tricorn hat covering his face, having just indulged in more jet.

“Hey, who’s that over there?”

Offended that I’ve interrupted his high, he adjusts his hat to shoot me a perplexed look before following the direction of my gaze to the stranger in the corner. After a moment of absent observation, he furrows his brow and shakes his head to refocus after using so many chems.

“No idea. Can’t say I’ve seen him around before…”

Hancock's expression contorts into a subtle frown, emanating a hint of concern at the realization that there's a person in Goodneighbor whom he has yet to meet. Unperturbed, he picks up the bigger of the two whiskey bottles left on the table, gently swirling its contents to gauge how much remains.

“Let’s go and introduce ourselves!”

Before I can react, he drunkenly seizes my wrist and yanks me to my feet. All at once, the whiskey rushes to my head. I stumble behind my excited companion, struggling to walk in a straight line.

Hancock staggers towards the shadowy man with no hesitation. He recognizes the potential danger but takes a silent comfort in the fact that every able-bodied person in the bar would come to his aid in an instant, should something go wrong. Then again, he is perfectly capable of fighting his own battles, even when completely inebriated  - he doesn't require anyone's help. I have observed this firsthand on multiple occasions.

Hancock pulls out a chair opposite the stranger, its metal feet chiming against the concrete floor. The sound captures the man’s attention. He watches us inquisitively from under his hat while reaching into his pocket to retrieve a small, rusted tin of cigarettes. Despite both of them remaining completely silent, Hancock is already pouring whiskey into the man's glass. I tentatively take a seat on the chair between them. The stranger places a cigarette between his gnarled lips and speaks through it.

“Can I help you?” He ignites the cigarette, nonchalantly discarding the used match to the ground. Reminiscent of Hancock, his voice is coarse from radiation, except it’s complemented by a smooth southern drawl. It's strangely appealing. And I'm seriously drunk. Before I can stop myself, words begin to tumble out of my mouth.

“Are you like… a real cowboy!?”

Both his and Hancock's movements cease abruptly, and although only a moment passes, it stretches out into what seems like an eternity. The dread of my careless remark hits me as I comprehend the implications of saying something so silly to a complete (and possibly dangerous) stranger.

Their eyes meet briefly before turning back to me. The stranger lifts his head, unveiling a clearer look at his face. His complexion is much darker than Hancock's, with a rubbery texture that appears less ridged. His eyes are also different from Hancock's, with the whites still visible and large black-brown pupils surrounded by red forking blood vessels. His serious demeanor shifts slightly as a smile snakes across his lips and he twists his head to examine me with curiosity.

“Well, fuck me! Ain’t you just an adorable little smoothskin?”

He inhales deeply on his cigarette, and nods in a gesture of approval towards Hancock, leaning forward purposefully to reach for his newly acquired glass of whiskey.

“I guess you could say I am a cowboy - something like that.”

It is quite apparent from the way he is speaking that he is also somewhat drunk. He sways slightly in his spot as he gulps down his drink, forcefully placing the empty glass on the metallic surface and then proceeding with his cigarette. Hancock unveils his own tin and pops a Mentat into his mouth, extending the same to the stranger. The ghoul eyes him with a touch of suspicion momentarily, before snatching one and avidly consuming it.

“Hell - would you look at this for hospitality!” He chortles. Hancock smirks at him, his eyes droopy with alcohol.

“That’s just what you get when you come to Goodneighbor, my friend! Of the people, for the people!” I discreetly reach out beneath the table to grip Hancock's knee, half-wondering if he’s still hard. Instead, mindful of the presence of another man, I let it rest there, protectively.

“Yeah, I dunno about all that horseshit. But - free booze and drugs will get me on your side, ain’t no doubt about that.”

His teeth are yellow and his lips are dry. Nevertheless, he’s handsome - just like Hancock. Not all ghouls are handsome… some are more decayed than others or, simply, lack the accompanying charisma. Luck of the draw, I suppose.

Observing Hancock lean back in his chair, I am somewhat surprised that the flimsy support can withstand his unsteady weight.

“I’m Hancock - I’m the mayor ‘round here.” His hand tightens on my shoulder as he gestures toward me with a tilt of his head. “And this… this is my girl.” 

A surge of blood rushes to my cheeks. His girl. The dampness that still clings to my panties acts as a stark reminder, reigniting my keen awareness of the heat building once more between my thighs.

The stranger curls up one corner of his mouth, exposing his gritted teeth. It seems more like a snarl than a smile. After making brief eye contact with me, he rummages for another cigarette. He extends one to Hancock, but not to me.

His lack of introduction prompts Hancock to glimpse over at me momentarily with a flash of worry splayed across his features. Regardless, he accepts a cigarette from the man and lights it, illuminating the grooved skin on his face.

“You staying at the Rexford?” In an attempt to fill the heavy silence, I ask innocently the first thing that comes to mind. The ghoul pours himself another glass of whiskey.

“You mean that shithole hotel round the corner? Nah… I’ve got a little camp set up just down the way… Prefer it that way.”

“I feel ya. Sometimes - better to just keep to yourself to yourself - sure fire way to stay outta any trouble.”

Hancock attempts to express solidarity with the man in an effort to establish some connection. In contrast, the ghoul consistently casts glances in each of our directions with an air of indifference, yet appears quite pleased to continue to help himself to our collection of chems and alcohol.

Other than his beige cowboy hat, he sports a long black duster coat that is frayed and tattered at the hem. Beneath it, he has on several grimy layers of clothing and armor. A quick look down by his side reveals a leather belt with numerous large rounds and a shoulder bag - presumably holstering weapons (and who knows what else).

"Well, you don't mind if we drink with you for a while, do ya?" Hancock asks eagerly, extending yet another Mentat to our new friend. The ghoul doesn't respond - just nods inattentively.

(Part 3)

(Part 4)

[livealittleoc-cb]

Small Update!

⚔️: Gym rat time.~ Hair in a bun? Check. Gym bag and water bottle? Check. Sexy mirror pick before actually stepping in? Triple Check. *laughs* I’m actually excited to be getting back into the gym, I got an injury during a rugby game and I’ve been put on bed rest and physical therapy….till now! I got the okay that I can do small workouts so plan for today is small work out and a small walk outside to enjoy the warm weather before meeting with N.~ If anyone is interested you can join me.~

🌊: Today it has been decided to do a cosplay photoshoot the week before our con. Going along with some friends and we all decided to go as Jujutsu Kaisen characters so here’s your Gojo.~ There’s a nice spot with cherry blossom trees so we’re taking pictures there. Getting into the actual costume wasn’t hard the wig and my implant don’t get along though-. I made it work though. I’m excited for the upcoming cons, I’m a spokesperson for one and encourage everyone to come.

🐍: I forgot how nice my legs look in these fishnets.~ *laughs* I’ve been fussing with my hair all day, wondering if I should cut it, redye it or just leave it be. *sighs* the decisions.~ other than messing with my hair I’m getting ready to go out later tonight, clubbing with some…friends we can call them.~ Hence the fishnets, I was thinking a nice leather skirt and leather jacket to match.~ Catching some free time before the circus officially opens up and I have to be working every other week. You should come and join me sweetheart.~

🩵🩵: @monsterhigh-cb [🐟🤍💍 && ⚡💙 && 👻💜 && 🐺💕 && 🎤💖 && 👑💛] @evicted-oc [☕️🤎 && 🐼🖤 && 🔦💛 && 🧊🩵 && 💄🖤 && 🏴‍☠️🤍] @theinvitation-bot [🐭🩶💒] @welcome-to-maniac [🐇🖤 💍 && 🌻❤️ && 🌕❤️‍🔥 && 🐿️❣️ && 🐉🩶] @fantasyaespa [🐈 💚💍 && ☀️🩵💍] @/k-venturetime [🍓❣️] @multi-joong [🌧️🧡💍 && 🎨💚 && 🎤❤️] @kardpackcb [🌙💝 && 🐺❤️‍🔥] @obsession-cb [🍰🖤💍 && 🍪🖤] @byulhoundx [💃❤️‍🔥], @lunaaofthemoon [🌖💜]

possible new residents: @faywithlove @badbf-cb @folklore-cb @domxbot @welcometosector1 @reve-rv @multi-esme @the-hellhounds @oppositesattraxt @domrachaa @coffeexdreamcb @silcntxnight @moonlightchn @blogger-yura @thesugaredalchemists @doom-bc @redlight-cb @inferno-cb @darkloversxcb @shin-haneul @crimson-l @clubwnderland @reapermingi @dragonrider-cb @aotckimkai @mafia-parkseonghwa @wxlfchris @incubus-johnny @ursweetest-love @azrael-oc @songsoftheocean-oc @dream-cb @mythicsx [DM + / -]

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (5/?)

Word Count: 2,526 Words

Rating: Mature (SMUT)

Chapter 5

"I want your love, and I want your revenge

You and me could write a bad romance

I want your love and all your lover's revenge

You and me could write a bad romance"

- Lady Gaga

_________________________________________________

“Better to come here now then.” 

Lucifer was right. Alastor had already put things off longer than was prudent for them and it might be best that tonight was not a night that they spent at the hotel. 

Maybe this was a mistake... He thought.

Not that Lucifer hadn’t proven that he was fully capable of handling Alastor; but would he be prepared for Alastor at his absolute worst?

Alastor had not been entirely honest with Lucifer; refraining from offering up the fact that he had chosen avoidance - had forcibly made himself celibate - for the past 7 years. This, of course, was creating a large problem to him now. He had hoped to pay the consequence of denying his body a natural need it required under...different circumstances; perhaps at some time when the stakes weren't set quite so high with very few options to consider.  

He had withheld this information knowing that Lucifer would inevitably want to know the reason why; and Alastor – quite simply – had no interest in discussing it.

Alastor was feeling uncomfortable. 

Two days had passed since his visit to Lucifer’s and he was very nearly fully into his rut now. He had stubbornly pushed off contacting the angel for as long as was possible but it was getting harder and harder to maintain his composure. 

During the daytime, he threw himself into tasks throughout the hotel; performing maintenance and small renovations where he could; helping Charlie in formulating a strong argument for redemption by researching terminology and definitions that would best accommodate her proposals; exchanging preliminary ideas with Vaggie on possible preparations for fortifying the hotel should the need require it; helping the other residents with small and meaningless chores or errands. He no longer slept and he spent the nights drinking and making efforts in dulling the edge to his urges.

Despite the distraction and despite him trying to deal with the arousals himself...he wasn't accomplishing much in assuaging his symptoms. Alastor's body was betraying him and he did not care for it. He felt overheated; a cold sweat constantly at his back. He had to take measures in concealing spontaneous erections and felt like every nerve on his body was a live wire just ready to ignite. His antlers were even weighing heavier on his head and he knew he couldn't ignore the implications of this much longer. 

When he got to Lucifer's, he felt a frazzled mess. Lucifer took one look at him and knew - despite all of the arrogant antics, despite all of the careful planning - Alastor was not handling his rut well. He was too...maniac and too on-edge. His ears too straight and twitchy, his eyes and smile too wide... 

"Have you eaten?" Lucifer asked him, inviting him inside. "You look like you could maybe use some food..." and maybe some sleep... 

"No, I have not...I -" He was trying to remember when he last ate...not today. "I suppose I should." 

"Shrimp and grits sound okay?" Lucifer asked him, walking toward the kitchen. 

Alastor paused; tilting his head. 

"I asked Charlie, alright." Lucifer told him. "I explained to her that you and I had important matters to discuss regarding information from Carmilla's extermination meetings she conducts with the Overlords tonight and I asked her what you might like to eat. She said you liked Cajun, so Cajun I made." 

Alastor just stared at him; giving him a hard look.

“Won’t your daughter be wondering at the strangeness of our…nightly meeting?” He asked.

“Hardly.” Lucifer told him turning and continuing down the corridor. “She knows that you’re nocturnal and that I’m an insomniac. Honestly; she’s just thrilled that we don’t have any foreseeable plans in murdering each other.”  

“I’d rather you didn’t go out of your way to make special accommodations for me.”

"I have an interest in knowing people, Alastor. I'm sure you've seen that trait in Charlie, as well. Don't be so surprised and don’t be so skeptical." 

Flicking one ear; Alastor followed him to the kitchen.

"Also, you might hate the dinner. Who knows. I never said I was a good cook." 

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

Following their meal, Lucifer noted that Alastor still seemed...out of sorts. They had engaged in quiet conversation that was pleasant enough but the man just seemed too...nervous and distant. Whatever expectations Lucifer had with tonight; this wasn't it.

Maybe this isn't the best solution... 

With the food gone and dishes put away; there was nothing left for it... 

"I don't know about you, but I could use a shower." Lucifer said; standing up to stretch. "Care to join me?" 

"A shower sounds....nice, actually." 

The bathroom was unlike anything Alastor had seen; dead or alive. It was incredibly spacious and immaculately kept... 

The shower was a large walk-in with multiple waterflow heads. Lucifer unabashedly stripped himself naked; setting his clothes aside. Walking across the tiles; he flipped on the knobs of two of the heads before stepping underneath the streaming water of one. 

Alastor paused; watching him. He expected Lucifer to start in on some form of leud comments...make an attempt at some or dirty talk; or hungrily – curiously even - watch him as he undressed; but the angel was paying him absolutely no mind. 

Sighing; Alastor slipped out of his suit jacket. 

Fully naked, he stepped into the shower with Lucifer; going to the second shower head that was beside him. Alastor stood underneath the jet; feeling the heated water soothe the static nervous energy he had stored in his body. He waited for Lucifer to turn toward him; to approach; to look at him and begin touching him but...he never did. Lucifer stood under his own steaming jet of water, eyes closed and head tilted as he showered; almost seemingly having forgotten that Alastor was even there. Alastor tweaked an ear, then closing his eyes he turned his face into the spray of water; feeling it thrum against his antlers, cascading across his lowered ears and through his hair. 

Lucifer watched Alastor from the corner of his eye. He had noted a hint of some sort of cologne when Alastor stepped into the shower with him but now...now that Alastor was under the water the smell was pungent. It was a heavy but earthy odor; something akin to the smell of pine trees and rain or the soft tones of a woodfire smoke. Lucifer breathed the scent in deeply; his pupils gently dilated, his heart rate jumped, and his mouth began to water...all at once he was suddenly very much aroused and he immediately realized that he was smelling and breathing in the concentrated pheromones of Alastor's musk. Lucifer couldn't help but stare at him now, feeling a powerful urge now to approach the red deer demon; to feel and to touch...to give and to take.

He saw the water washing across Alastor’s upturned face; ringlets, splashes and streams of it curling and twisting all down across his body. He briefly noted that Alastor was covered in scars; a sharp flickering of red and then he saw that Alastor also possessed a rather soft-and-delicate-looking deer tail. Lucifer wondered at the amount of secrets Alastor must be willing to sacrifice to see these deals he had made done…

Lucifer’s erection was openly jutting upwards but…he held back. Watching Alastor closely; he somehow knew that he wasn't ready to be touched yet. 

What hell it must be…he thought…to be someone who cared so little for physical intimacy - to have it forced upon them by their own biological need. Lucifer couldn't fathom it but he saw the discomfort; the detachment that Alastor was experiencing from it. It reminded Lucifer of one of his episodes that he had sometimes when he-

Wait. 

Hold on. 

Lucifer shook his head; blinking water from his eyes as he concentrated, looking much more closely at Alastor now.

Was Alastor...experiencing some episode of post-traumatic distress?

Lucifer focused; assessing all of the signs and he saw it, realizing…

“I’d rather not discuss it…”

Suddenly; all of it made sense.

Lucifer had wondered how Alastor – a sinner Cervidae demon that had been in Hell for as long as he had – had not yet come to terms with the matter of his occurring and re-occurring mating cycles. 

Something had to have happened…

Fuck…

Lucifer rubbed his face; of course, this had to be even more complicated.

He thought briefly again about what both Lilith and Alastor had said…about how Alastor had actually killed demons before when he –

Then, Lucifer remembered what he himself had told Alastor:

“…it wasn’t for the intentions that they had thought…”

Alastor was still standing under the shower head next to his; eyes closed, face tilted up, smile fixed to his face. His body was rigid; tension never leaving his body.

Lucifer sighed.

“Hey, Al…”

Alastor’s eyes opened; he turned his head, ears lifting, looking at Lucifer now – somehow expressionless despite the ever-present grin. 

“Come here; I-I’d like you to touch me.”

Alastor’s ears straightened; processing for a moment…

Then, reaching out – Alastor turned the knob to his shower head; turning off the spray of water. He went to Lucifer; stepping into the falling water and looking down at the angel. Reaching out again; he found the knob – turning it. Heat flared across Lucifer’s skin; turning his pale skin a rosy pink.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Lucifer hissed.

Alastor huffed; a small smirk touching his face. Turning, he put his back to the streaming jet of hot water; facing Lucifer. Steam began to rapidly fill the shower; heat radiating around them.

Alastor waited; still anticipating Lucifer to reach out – touch him; grab him; grip him; smother him…

Lucifer lifted his hands; palms open and held to the side.

“Per our agreement…” He said, softly.

Alastor’s eyes widened; understanding.

“I won’t touch you.” Lucifer told him. “Not until you want me to.”

Alastor’s breathing changed; the base to his antlers were becoming more full, more points erupting and curling upward.

“Don’t hold back.” Lucifer told him.

Layers of tension left Alastor as he moved himself closer to Lucifer; his upper body leaning down and over the angel.

He took Lucifer’s face between clawed hands; tilting his head and pressing his mouth to his. Alastor kissed him and Lucifer kept his hands raised and away. Alastor pressed himself closer; completely blocking the spray of water coming from the shower head and Lucifer was grateful for the added heat that was filling the room in a foggy humid blanket.

Still kissing him; Alastor’s hands left the angel’s face and began exploring his body. Clawed fingers traced stimulating patterns all along Lucifer’s wet neck, chest, shoulders and stomach. Lucifer shuddered; groaning softly into Alastor’s mouth. Unlike Alastor; Lucifer craved to touch and craved being touched…now finding himself coming out of a rather lengthy dry spell – maybe not years worth, but still – his body was terribly touch deprived and every contact Alastor made with him was bracing to him. Keeping his hands away – he clenched his fists at the urge to reach out and touch Alastor.

Alastor pulled his head back; breaking the kiss. His fingers curled around Lucifer’s chin; his eyes wide and dilating.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.” He breathed.

Unclenching his fists; Lucifer did as he was instructed. Alastor waited for him to rest his hands on either side; pausing as if assessing himself - deciding whether he would find the contact acceptable.

Nodding; he leant back in – pressing his lips back again to Lucifer’s – his own clawed hands finding and gripping the smaller man’s waist; palms resting on each hip.

Lucifer let his hands rest – still - at Alastor’s shoulders; neither moving them to touch and explore Alastor like he ached to do nor to grip and pull him closer. Alastor gave a soft growl and Lucifer took it as an approving sound as the demon coaxed their mouths open; sliding his tongue between parted lips – he twisted and flicked it with and against Lucifer’s forked one.

More and more of the unease was leaving Alastor’s body…making room for a new kind of tension. Lucifer felt Alastor grip his hips tighter; his developing erection pressing into the King’s belly. Disengaging himself from Lucifer’s mouth; Alastor pressed his forehead to Lucifer’s; his breathing heavy.

“You may touch me now.” Alastor told him.

Slowly; Lucifer leaned in – touching his lips to Alastor’s collar bone and sliding his hands down across Alastor’s arms and his chest. Alastor groaned; sinking into the touch and Lucifer knew that he would no longer have to take such pangs to be so cautious. He nipped and licked at Alastor’s skin; his tongue tracing across the raised and jagged scars that crisscrossed his chest. Clawed fingers dragging soft red marks; everywhere they went.

Lifting a hand from a hip; Alastor found Lucifer’s length. He palmed and stroked the King; feeling the firming of muscle in his hand. Lucifer sucked in a breath; hands involuntarily gripping tightly at Alastor’s arms. Lucifer quickly released his sudden grip; but Alastor only chuckled lowly at the response he had elicited in him.

“Turn around, my King.” Alastor told him lowly.

Turning; Lucifer felt Alastor’s hands grip his shoulders – pulling him against him so that Lucifer could feel the sinner’s erection pressing sharply into his back. Alastor adjusted himself; then possessively wrapped an arm around Lucifer’s torso; holding him firmly to him as he leant himself over – reaching down to take the swollen and aching member into his grip again. He pressed himself tightly against the angel; his own fully erect penis sliding up and down Lucifer’s wet back as he moved his hips – pumping the King in his hand.

Lucifer bent himself back against Alastor; his hips quivering into jutting as he felt himself quickly approaching a climax. His clawed fingers dug into the wet and slick skin of Alastor’s forearm; wrapped tightly across his chest. Alastor’s face was pressed tightly into the side of Lucifer’s neck; growling and gasping as both their movements stimulated him into an ever-deepening arousal.

Alastor’s grip tightened and Lucifer knew he was lost. His hips jutted sharply; and he felt himself release into Alastor’s hand; cum slipping between fingers and washing away in the cascade of water around them. Alastor let him go; and Lucifer shakily stood – his back still to Alastor.

A soft flickering of the lights and a soft buzzing of something static made Lucifer turn. Alastor was standing behind him; his penis curved tightly upward, a hand covering his face – his eyes were wide, red and flaring crazily behind spread fingers. His smile maniac and stretched too wide. His ears were erratically twitching in sharp movements; the fur on them standing sharply on end. The lights began to strobe; going out briefly before flickering back in again. Shadows were creeping into corners; crawling across walls – slowly consuming the room. Alastor’s antlers where branching and stretching dramatically overhead; the points lengthening and twisting around themselves in a beautifully chilling way. Alastor’s musk pervaded the room; hanging heavy in the thickening steam that surrounded them.

“Somewhere else…” Alastor was saying; his widening eyes seeing nothing. “I’m…”

And the room went dark.

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

Chapter 6

[vodkadealer]

I'm abi, I'm 17,I'm from argentina and my english sometimes suck,and I use any pronoun ‼️‼️‼️‼️

Interests: Tcc (Columbine,richard ramirez, Academy maniacs, etc.) music, bass guitar, internet dark shit (lost media, weird media and found footage type of content), guns and photography

Fav bands: MM, KMFDM, MSI, MCR, PLACEBO, SKINNY PUPPY, ANGELSPIT, SLIPKNOT, COAL CHAMBER, LIMP BIZKIT, DEFTONES, THE PRODIGY, NIN, HOLE, ROB ZOMBIE, WHITE ZOMBIE, JESUS LOVES JUNKIES, JACK OF JILL, MEGADETH, NIRVANA, ALICE IN CHAINS, PEARL JAM... (I listen to almost everything)

Games: Postal (1 and 2), cry of fear, outlast, resident evil, the sims 4, project zomboid, stardew valley (DM if you wanna have a farm with me)

Favs in movies or documentaries: Zero Day, Lost Highway, Natural Born Killers, Eraserhead, Party Monster, Dead to the World, God is in the TV, Family Values 98, Our pain your Gain, american psycho, jackass, Duck! The carabine high massacre, zero hour, Eraserhead, The crow and the shinning

Discord is _clonazep4m (feel free to DM but you gotta keep up cuz I'm a little introverted)

Letterbox is viviii04

Airbuds is goofyball

[mask-of-prime]

VG: The Return to Udugu - PART 2

Somewhere in Big Ravine, Kiara and the Guard were rescuing Kifupi, a resident cheetah cub, who had gotten stuck in mud when crossing the river. The Guard noticed Kiara had been an exceptionally great communicator. Calming the poor cheetah cub as he shook from fear... and the cold water.

“Th-Thank you, Princess Kiara…” the cheetah cub stammered. “No problem, kiddo!” Kiara beamed, “And you can just call me Kiara. Y’know… just a little easier to remember, heh…” “Oh…” Kifupi glanced to the side. “Besides,” Kiara turned to the Guard, “they’re the ones to thank for all the hard work. They’re just awesome, right?” “Um, Kiara…” “Yes, sweetie?” “Aren’t you and the Guard gonna do something about that boulder?” Kiara whipped her head back, “What bould- Oh!… Oh, wow…” “It’s okay, guys. It’s moving away from us, actually.” Tazama observed with her exceptional vision, "Hard to tell from far away. Parallax makes it a little hard to tell, I know." Tazama cut herself off from infodumping. She loved to observe vast escapes, especially in the night. As much as she picked up that Kiara loved her ramblings, she knew to keep it brief during a mission. “Aren’t there herds over there? Kiara looked to the Guard, “What if it might hit someone?” “Nah,” began Imara, “nothing over there, you’d have to be totally lost.” ____ “Welp, we’re totally lost.” Vitani scoffed. "You say that like it's my fault..." Kovu mumbled. "Well, did I send us floating down the stream?" Vitani promptly shook her leg dry as it was soaked from the aforementioned event. "No, your idea was to sneak past the baboons' territory." Kovu grimaced as he plucked a piece of thrown fruit from his mane. "I thought they wouldn't throw anything this time!--" "Oh, come on. You--" The siblings' voices overlapped as they each tried to get a word in edgewise, making unnecessary points and throwing insults and vulgar names at each other. "Look," Kovu firmly cut Vitani off, "we're WAY off the path Simba and Nala left us at. I'm beginning to think they went home! I... I don't even wanna do this, anymore! Tired of being stuck with you..." "That seems to be a recurring theme with you..." Kovu stopped in his tracks, "...What?' Vitani tilted her head in feigned deep thought, "Oh, you know... Brooding inside Pride Rock all day. Ignoring me whenever I bring up things we used to do together. Not leaving without Kiara by you at all times..." "What are you trying to say?" "You're always giving up. Always running from your problems thinking they'll go away, but they just get worse..." "I-" "It's your giving up that got half our family killed, come to think of it." Vitani didn't notice herself smiling maniacally. Those words pierced Kovu's chest. He suddenly felt hot. "Really! Nuka wouldn't have even thought of going after Simba, but you gave him a chance. Mother wouldn't have totally lost it in the end." she continued mercilessly. Kovu found it harder and harder to breathe as his sister's words dug further and further into his mind. He heaved as frustrated tears formed in his eyes. His muscles tensed as his claws dug through the earth. "Half of our family is dead and you don't even care. You know why you don't care? Because you just couldn't take your eyes off the one lion who controls you, now..." She asked for it. Kovu yelled as he lunged for Vitani, pushing her over with full force. Thudding hard against the ground with her back, Vitani painfully rolled over and pushed herself up. "Ho-hoh... Now, we're talking! This is the Kovu I know!" she said with a sardonic grin. An unexplainable insanity and lust for expressing rage came over her. Pretty soon, the savannah filled with leonine snarls and battle cries. Ears were cuffed, clumps of fur flew around them, and bites and cuts made their way across each of their bodies. They fought as they'd been training their whole lives for. ____ "That was... kinda fun in a way." Kiara smiled at the Guard, "Dangerous, but fun." Shabaha spoke up, "Yeah... it's like you notice some kind of emotion part, like, something I never even noticed about people before..." "Imagine that..." Imara mumbled to herself, recounting Shabaha's tendency to miss social cues. "Yeah, you were on fire, girl!" Kasi praised. "Heh, yeah. Guess I really can be trusted in more involved duties..." "KIARA!" The princess knew that voice, she winced and turned to the source of the noise. Of course it was her father. Her mother, too. Looks like word got out that she'd left home. Thanks, Zazu. "Kiara!" Nala scampered to her daughter, "Baby, where have you been? Are you hurt?--" "Mom... Mom,  I'm fine, really!" Kiara watched her father approach, "I know what you're thinking, Dad, but we saved this cheetah, and--" "I thought you were staying inside Pride Rock." "No, we agreed that I wanted to get to know the new Lion Guard better. You never said I was staying home." Simba was eerily silent. He positively despised that logic, but little did he know, she very much got it from him. "She held her own really well, sir." Imara began, "We can vouch." Kasi spoke up, "She was amazing, sir. She led us in a way we've never been led before. Telling us to be careful with the cheetah and all. "We wouldn't have found that cub had it not been for her curiosity." Tazama added. "Man... Being sheltered fuels you..." Shabaha mumbled. Simba listened intently, and smiled. "Well... I can't argue with that. You have to get to know the land you'll someday rule. I guess this was how you'd learn. You'll be possibly the most prepared Queen the Pridelands ever knew." he threw his head down onto hers in a nuzzle. Kiara returned the affection, "By the way. Are Kovu and Vitani with you? Are they catching up?" "Oh, Great Kings..." Nala's eyes widened, "Simba, we left them completely alone!" "We'll check Pride Rock first," Simba started marching, "then we'll go where we saw them last." ____ Kovu had Vitani pinned, a massive paw to his sister’s equal-in-size face. In the corner of her eye, Vitani found herself on the edge of a cliff. The Gorge, in fact. She swiftly grappled Kovu’s mane with her claws and forced herself to plunge into the dam, taking Kovu down with her. Before she knew it, Vitani was now dangling from loose logs. Her senseless fighting led her to slip in a near-critical clumsy move. Fear filled Vitani. She was suddenly in a memory she’d tried her best to block out. Nuka was being crushed over and over again in her head. Her mother unfairly projected her delusions onto Kovu. Vitani was losing Kovu due to her brainwashed distrust in him over and over again. She saw now why he ran away. He wasn’t running for a girl who corrupted him, he ran because no one trusted him. No one in the Pridelands did, still… Kovu, once blinded by rage, was now pulled from his locked tunnel vision as he swore he heard whispers in the zephyr that circled around his head. A familiar voice whispered reason and purpose to him. He launched his paw towards his sister. “Vitani, come on!” he frantically yelled. Vitani snapped into reality, “H-Huh?!” “Come on, take my paw! The boulder’s gonna crush us! You gotta jump NOW!” Vitani wordlessly complied. The two scrambled, claws sliding and grabbing every direction as if they were frightened cats. Technically, they were. The two panted as they glanced back at the danger they'd narrowly avoided. The boulder smashed into the dam, shattering every log. The logs making a grotesquely similar sound to snapping bones, which would've been theirs. "You saved me..." Vitani turned to her brother, "why did you do that?" "Because... I would never want to give up on family." Kovu choked, "I never did..." Suddenly, without words, Vitani rushed over to embrace Kovu. She sobbed into his mane. "You know, of all the animals who were giving up on family, it was me." Vitani sniffed, "I got you all wrong, I used Kiara against you. Our family may have broke, but you found us another one... I'm really happy for you, brother. It's just that... this transition has just been so hard. I really thought I was gonna be all alone in it. I really thought I was gonna lose the only family I had left. Especially just now..." "I was scared, too." Kovu teared up, "I felt alone too. I should've spoken to you at all, but I was too afraid to say anything. It's hard to have opinions when you're on a pedestal. It's plagued me all my life..." "I'm so sorry..." "I'm sorry, too..." Kovu glanced up at the stars, "You know, Kiara told me about the stars. How those gone are still with you. They're up in the stars." Vitani felt a zephyr caress her face. She knew that voice. She knew for sure his spirit was there. Few animals knew why that was. "Yeah... I can imagine that..." ___ Hours passed. The search team was run ragged looking for the siblings. They checked Pride Rock when the two were lost by the Gorge. They followed their scent to the Gorge, but couldn't find them by the time they got there. They miserably trekked back in hopes to find them. To their surprise -- and relief --, they did. And they seemed to have... literally caught a bite to eat? It was a colorful guineafowl. One that wandered too far in the outskirts of the Pridelands, unlucky as it found itself between the paws of a lion and the teeth of a lioness. "Care to join us?" asked Vitani. "Looks like you finally found Udugu." Simba said proudly. The siblings exchanged confused looks, not understanding how they found it. Was it the bird? Was that the tradition? There was much explaining needed. "Ever the literal thinkers, you two." Nala chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, happy endings and whatnot." Shabaha killed the touching moment, "I'm starved!" The pride chuckled as they each chose their favorite part of the poultry. ___ (Happy Thanksgiving! Glad I took my time with this. Busy weekend. Whew! Kifupi (Swahili for "brief", alluding to how he's small and quick) is a little character I came up with on the spot (no pun intended). Going with that "Vitani's Guard does opposite things as Kion's Guard" theme, I noticed how few predator animals are saved in the show. I nearly drew an African Wild Ass, which would've been rare too, but then I opted for an underutilized concept of a predator being rescued, and included an equally underutilized cute aspect in real life cheetahs, that being their honey badger mimicry fluff.)

[flickys-courage-club]

When Barry Meets Gloomer (Story)

[OCs: Barry, Smiler, Gloomer, Lucifer/Puppeteer of Terrors and puppet residents of Lucifer's hometown]

[Barry is introduced to the puppeteer's 2nd creation and Smiler's little brother named Gloomer. Though the difference with him is that he is always a downer and filled with gloom and misery]

[Cuts to Barry and Smiler in Lucifer's hometown together, along with his other puppets)

(Barry hears Smiler calling out to someone)

Smiler: Hey! Hey! Lil bro! Over here! (Waves)

Barry: Miss Smiler, who are you waving at?

Smiler: My lil bro hun. I want him to come over here to meet you

Barry: Your lil bro? I didn't even knew that

Smiler: Yeah I know hun. But I gotta tell that you are gonna love him and be the best of pals ever!

Barry: Uhh ok-

Smiler: (gasps as she sees her brother walking to her) There he is! Awww, hey there lil bro (runs up to him and hugs him, chuckling) how you been gloomy face?

???: Fine... and still my usual self all the frickin' time sis

Smiler: Aww, come on lil bro. Cuz' I know what will turn that silly lil frown upside down.

???: Hmm? Like what?

Smiler: Introducing yourself to a new friend I just made (pats Barry head)

Smiler: Barry hun. Meet Gloomer, my lil teary bro

Barry: (silent a bit) Uhhh hi, Gloomer (waves at him)

Gloomer: (stares at Barry with a confused look, then at Smiler) Sis. Wha-what the- What is he doing at me?

Smiler: He's waving at you silly. Go on bro, wave at him ^v^

Gloomer: (sighs) Ok ok sis (Waves at Barry with a disappointed look on his face)

(Smiler squeals in excitement)

(Lucifer levitates by Smiler and watches the boys wave at eachother)

Lucifer: Ahh Smiler my girl, seems that your gloomy brother is meeting our little friend

Smiler: Mmhmm ^^ (grins in excitement)

Smiler: (To Gloomer) That's the spirit! You boys are gonna be the bestest of friends ever!

Gloomer: Ok. Can I leave now please?

Lucifer: Ah ah ah- I'm afraid not gloomy. For you see, I got a lot of stuff planned for my puppets here

Gloomer: (sighs) goddammit

Lucifer: You'll get used to it. From now, run yourselves over to me kids (flies over to the left)

(Gloomer sighs as he walks over to Lucifer)

Smiler: Welp, we gotta get going now hun. Don't wanna keep Master waitin' of course

(Barry nods)

(Smiler and Barry run off together to Lucifer)

(Then the two sprint off by the passing puppets wearing the same tuxedo suits, their leader wears)

(It then cuts to Lucifer helping Gloomer by telling him some knock knock jokes)

Lucifer: Knock knock

Gloomer: (sighs) who's there?

Lucifer: Boo

Gloomer: Boo who?

Lucifer: Don't cry buddy, it's just a joke (laughs maniacally)

Gloomer: (sighs, buries his face in his hands)

(Smiler and Barry arrive at Lucifer's lair)

Smiler: We're here master!

Lucifer: Ah good, your just in time for the plans I got out for you fellas. There in this contract right here

(The puppeteer holds the contract out, it shows what are today's plans he wrote)

(Smiler, Gloomer and Barry reads it all through)

Smiler: Oooh this will be fun boys! (Claps her hands)

Barry: (reads it through again) I don't know, is it easy to do?

Lucifer: Mmhmm yes

Barry: Ok, I'll do that

Lucifer: ^v^

(Smiler squeals in joy by Barry's acceptance)

Gloomer: (sighs) I don't really feel like doing that anyway

[It finally cuts to short cuts of the moments by the puppets, Lucifer, Smiler, Gloomer and Barry doing their plans with each other]

THE END

[theelispace]

The 12 Worst Things of New Jersey (The State I live in)

1. Would it kill you to say "please"?

Chivalry and etiquette are foreign concepts to many New Jerseyans. And it’s fair to assume that on any given day, you’ll encounter an impatient, impolite, disrespectful or downright nasty human-being who shares your lovely Garden State. Not every resident is a hollering, boorish brute, but take a roadtrip to the American south and you’ll realize that the stereotypes about northeasterners being rude are pretty much true.

2. Our traffic mimics "Mad Max"

Infuriating traffic makes sense for our most-densely-populated state. But does everyone have to be such an impatient, over-aggressive maniac? And don’t even start with the maddening array of jughandles and traffic circles.

3. NJ Transit's cruel tricks

To plan your day with the notion that NJ Transit's train or bus will arrive on schedule is to also account for bouts of rage as your pickup becomes delayed — and then canceled altogether. How could it get worse? Oh yeah, how about a crumbling infrastructure?

4. Our eternal civil war

Want to start a meaningless argument at your next dinner party? Ask the table “Where’s the line between North and South Jersey?” and then sit back as everyone spouts a meaningless opinion. Here’s the thing: There are no definitive, state-slicing barriers now, and there never will be. Let it go. (Plus, if we don’t unite, how will we ever conquer Delaware?)

5. And another thing ... our food battles

The pork roll vs. taylor ham discussion is worthy of its own slaughter. The stupid box says Taylor pork roll, people! Both sides are correct. Just let us enjoy our nitrate-soaked meat circles in peace. The same goes for subs/hoagies, Italian ice/water ice and sprinkles/jimmies. A state divided by its snacks is a state on the brink of collapse.

6. The soul-crushing property taxes

This gripe is based purely on fact: New Jersey boasts the highest property taxes in America, by far. The in-state average is now above $8,000 per household. Alabama, and its median property tax rate of $398, sounds awesome right about now.

7. The Pulaski Skyway

Between the merciless potholes, narrow lanes and hairpin exits, the dreary Pulaski feels more like the key in a Batman villain’s plot for Gotham-wide destruction that a structure that still exists in the 21st Century.

8. That wretched Turnpike smell

Anyone who regularly passes by Exit 13 on the Turnpike, and the nearby Linden Cogeneration Plant, already shares this grievance. The intense sulfur stench is especially putrid in warmer weather — coming soon! Though New Jersey is often unfairly mocked for its smells, it’s hard to defend this one.

9. Jersey Shore headaches

A day trip to our beloved surf and sand should surely be a serene occasion. But between Memorial Day and Labor Day, the traffic bottlenecking into the area is inescapable. To park, one must choose to shell out for an overpriced lot, or circle endlessly. Once on the beach, you endure every other frustrated family in its loudest, most obnoxious state. There’s just too many of us — we should try an odd-even system, ala the ‘73 oil crisis.

10. The Jersey meatheads

Are New Jersey’s drink-slugging, muscular buffoons different from the rest of the world’s? Yes. It goes back to the rudeness aspect — much of our population already has the tendency to morph into an inconsiderate jerk at any moment. Add in the misguided sense of entitlement that comes with not being able to touch your own shoulders, and you have the bombastic Jersey meathead, whose sole purpose is to ruin your night at the bar, club, or concert.

11. Our lousy customer service

Why are New Jersey’s service and retail employees all stationed behind a wall of indifference. In supermarkets and convenience stores — anywhere where you encounter a cashier — there’s a good chance you’ll be told to have a nice day, though it’s blatantly obvious they couldn’t care less. And why do New Jersey restaurants get so bent out of shape about separate checks? It almost always leads to a better overall tip!

12. It's us against the world

What other state’s residents need to constantly protect themselves from punchlines and mockery as soon as the cross into foreign lands? If you’re in California and you say “I’m from New Jersey,” don’t you immediately feel like as though a cloud of judgement has rolled in? Sure, we defend our spot and debunk the stereotypes, but a lifetime on watch becomes exhausting.

13. Why do we stay?

Well, have you tried the pizza here? But seriously, beneath all this quibbling, New Jersey is a special place, where many folks are willing to live. Our traffic and crowds are proof of that. And despite its flaws, we love this crazy land.

Oh, and did I mention the pizza?

Okay which is worse

New Jersey or Florida?

[the-demon-of-a-thousand-eyes]

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝒶 𝒯𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐸𝓎𝑒𝓈 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 17

Viewprints Compound and Hotel See-crets

Pairing: Alastor x F!OC (Theia, The Demon of a Thousand Eyes)

Chapter Summary: Following your foxtrot together, Alastor encourages you to get your knife so you'll have it ready. He's going to look for the perfect candidate for you to tear apart in front of him, and you're going to go downstairs and see what he seems to know about the state of things.

Turns out, Charlie is in just as much of an emotional wreck as earlier, and you are the perfect person to cheer her saddened disposition. She is grateful for your assistance and is eager and willing to supply you with the blueprints of the hotel, which, after you call Niffty, the three of you pour over. You discover some fascinating secrets to tell the other residents and staff of the hotel, as well as a few you decide to keep to yourself.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: Cannibalism

Alastor brings you back to your rooms, manifesting in your kitchen once more. You stay by his side even as you’re uncertain of whether or not he feels like being touched right now. You’re unsure of his expectations and boundaries. It makes you uncomfortable, but you don’t want to make him uncomfortable by bringing it up, so instead, you pull out the hairpin from your pocket and put your hair back into your signature bun with it as you ask, “So, Al, what are your plans for today?”

“Eager to spend more time with me, are we, darling? Last night and this morning wasn’t enough for you?” As you contemplate heading into your bedroom to grab your knife, he pulls you into his arms.

“Of course not. As I keep reminding you, we haven’t had any fun yet.” You huff out a laugh as you wrap your arms around him. Resting your head against his chest, you look up into his eyes. Still smiling, the eyes on your neck pout up at him. “It doesn’t even have to be with the knife.” Your eyes flash red. “I want to kill someone in front of you.”

He chuckles and pulls a stray strand of hair you’d missed up into your bun. “While I appreciate your enthusiasm and anticipate great satisfaction in seeing you at work, we ought to delay our gratification a little longer, dear. Not only will it make enjoyment all the sweeter,” He leans in to kiss your temple. You hear his intake of breath. Is he smelling me? “It will give me time to find us someone truly worthy of a violent, bloody, permanent end for you to eviscerate in front of me.”

You shiver at the prospect. Your eyes flash red again as your face breaks out into a demonic, maniacal grin. “You’re such a t̴̒ͅȇ̶̹a̵͙̓s̵̻̈ē̴̮.” You growl at him.

“You love it, dearest.” He kisses your nose, then lets go of you again. You barely swallow back a sigh at the loss of contact. When did I become so desperate for his touch? “Now get that knife of yours so you’ll have it ready, then we’ll head downstairs to the lobby. I’m sure you’ll find something worthwhile to occupy your time.”

Heading to your closet to put on the belt with your knife attached, you call out to him, “You know something, don’t you.” You peek around the doorframe to narrow your eyes at him as you slide the belt into place around your waist. As you do, the ones on your belt narrow as well. “Is there something I should know?”

He chuckles as you cross the room back towards him. When you’re within arm’s reach again, he takes your hand in his, lifts it, and pulls you into a spin. A giggle you fail to choke back escapes your lips as you twirl. You end up flush against his chest again. The light in his eyes seems to dance with merriment. “Plenty, and all in due time.” He kisses your nose again, then wraps his arms around you. “Ready, dearest?”

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest as you wrap your arms around him in return. You nod, wary of the fact that the words you think are too dangerous to be said aloud. Always, you think as his shadows envelop the both of you, I’ll always be ready for you, Al.

When you blink, you’re in the lobby, his arms still wrapped around you, and yours wrapped around him.

Angel wolf-whistles from the couch behind you. “Damn, Occhi, making an entrance with Smiles the mornin' after? You’re full ah surprises, ain’t ya.”

You eye him with the ones on the back of your horns even as your gaze stays affixed on Alastor’s. “He was the perfect gentleman last night.” You smile up at him. You can tell he is pleased. “I’m quite taken with him.”

“Have a good day, my dearest.” He kisses you on the cheek.

You kiss his in return. “You as well, Al. I’ll see you later.”

You swallow back another sigh as he steps away from you. You try (and fail) to ignore the way you practically melt when he brings your hand up to his lips for a kiss. “Be patient and we’ll have some fun later.” Is all he says.

Your eyes flash red again. You grin up at him. “I look forward to it.”

He steps away from you and lets his shadows swallow him up and carry him elsewhere.

You’d been so focused on Alastor that you hadn’t done much to look around the room after you’d arrived. Along with Angel, who was giving you one hell of a look that you were choosing to ignore for the moment, Husk was restocking the bar. Everyone else appeared to be elsewhere for the time being.

“So, Occhi,” Angel grins wider, somehow. “How did last night go, then? I hear he’s quite the dancer. He show ya the horizontal tango?”

You flush, recalling the ballroom dance you’d done with him this morning. You turn towards him and take a seat on one of the chairs nearby. “Of course not, Angel. Pit that nonsense talk. It’s just as I said, he was the perfect gentleman. His apologies were sufficient. We ate together and snuggled while we shared dessert that he’d bought me. We stayed curled up together listening to jazz and the swamp sounds until I got tired, then he brought me back to my rooms, where I fell asleep in my bed, alone. Then I…summoned him in the morning with the radio in my cone, ate breakfast together, and danced the foxtrot to ‘Anything Goes’ by Cole Porter.” You flush harder at the look Angel gives you. “Actual dancing. Not an innuendo.” You pointedly give him a look. “He’s quite skilled though.”

“You’re turning purple, Occhi. Calm down.” Angel snickers. “We know you didn’t do nothin’. He ain’t the type to fuck on the second date.”

“Or any date.” Husk chimes in as he finishes putting away the bottles of liquor, “Then again, didn’t think he was the type to date, either, so this may be brand new territory entirely.”

Angel scowls at his phone. You know that look. “What’s up? Tino giving you trouble? Do I need to go over there and threaten to pluck his eyes out and eat them, again?”

“He’s just bein’ his usual self, Occhi, don’t worry ‘bout it. Ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle.” He waves you off, then raises his gaze and an eyebrow in your direction. “Wait, again? Since when do you know Val?”

You chuckle. “I’ve known the Vees for years. I’ve had the unfortunate circumstance to be in his presence and in his studio a few times, though never while you were around, or at least he never bothered to introduce us.” You shrug. “We have a strained dynamic. He calls me ‘Ojitas,’ which I hate, so I call him ‘Tino,’ which pisses him off. Not sure why he doesn’t like me, other than the fact that I’l fuck Vox but not him.” You shrug. “Eh, maybe that’s enough. What do I know; I try not to understand his twisted, fucked-up mindset.”

“I knew there was a reason I liked you.” Angel smirks.

You smirk back. “What, my aggressive eye puns aren’t enough for view?” You snark, deflecting the compliment as you always do when you feel trapped by too much honesty.

Angel rolls his eyes in response. “Honest, those kinda detract from it fo’ me but I’ll deal.” He’s still smiling, despite this.

You chuckle. “I’ll have you know it takes effort to pun this much! Some people just have no vision or vitreous humor, I stare.”

You glance at Husk, who is also affectionately rolling his eyes. You chuckle again as you stand. “Charlie around? I was hoping to get something from her office.”

“I think she’s in there,” Angel says as he looks down at his phone with a grimace. “Every once in a while I hear panicked mumblin’ she probably thinks we can’t.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Neither of you thought this might be important to ask about?”

Angel shrugs. “Not really.”

Husk looks apathetic. “Not my job. I’m bartender, not psychiatrist.”

“Neither am I, but we’re supposed to be her friends, remember?” You stand up and, giving them both one last glare, go to knock on Charlie’s office door.

You hear shuffling what you assume is papers and then the door opens a crack. Upon seeing you, Charlie brightens as much as she can muster and opens the door wider for you. “Theia!” She says overly-cheerily and you can tell she’s masking a bigger emotion underneath. “What can I do for you? I’m always happy to help out a resident.”

“Actually, Charlie,” You say as she closes the door behind you, “I’m here to ask you if you need help. It sounds like something is bothering you.” While it’s true that you want the blueprints of the hotel, you can see she’s in a state. Her hair, normally well-kept, is sticking out at odd angles, as if she’s been pulling on it and running her hands through it in distress. She has bags under her eyes, a sticky note stuck to her elbow, and a smudge of ink on her cheek, like she fell asleep at the desk.

She hastily swipes a piece of hair behind her ear and it does little to nothing to right her usually pristine appearance. “Of course not; I’ve got it all under control!” She says a little too quickly. “You’re sure there wasn’t anything you needed?”

“There is, but I want to make sure you’re okay first.” You give her a small smile and walk further into the room, taking the seat in front of the desk reserved for visitors of the space.

Sensing you’re not going to back down and leave her alone, she sits in her desk chair once more. “I’m fine, Theia. A little tired, but who needs sleep? I have all these souls to save, including yours!”

You chuckle awkwardly at the same time she does, but not for the same reason. “Charlie, where’s Vaggie?”

You eye the clock and realize how early it still is.

“She’s still sleeping; she needs her beauty rest; not that she’s not already the most gorgeous person I’ve ever met—” She stutters and stumbles over her words, trapped snowballing.

You cut her off. “Charlie, listen.” You hold up a hand. “I know we don’t know each other very well yet, but I’d like to think of you as my friend.” She genuinely brightens for the first time this morning. “As such, it’s my obligation to ask you if you’re alright, and as my friend, I hope you can be honest with me.”

She winces. “I’m panicking. The extermination is coming soon and I can only hold it together for so long. The sinners, you included, are my people, Theia. I can’t let them slaughter more innocent lives. These people deserve a second chance but no one is willing to listen to me!” She covers her face with her hands.

“Easy, Charlie, take some deep breaths.” You intone, and stand up to sit on the edge of the desk. You place a hand on her shoulder. “We still have some time before the extermination, and while you might not have as big of an audience as you’d like, you do have all of us at the hotel. It’s a small start, but it’s a start.”

She peeks out behind her fingers at you. “You don’t even see yourself as redeemable. Why do you care?”

“Just because I’m not redeemable doesn’t mean I don’t think others can or shouldn’t be able to be.” You shrug. “Sure, Alastor’s not redeemable, of course, but Sir Pentious is genuinely trying, and Angel might be able to someday if he’s given enough motivation. He’s going through a lot.” You give her a soft smile, and she grimaces, but lets you continue. “You’ve got something good here, with the people you have, and we’re starting to bond. We’re not there yet, of course, but you can’t force or rush these things, even if we do have a time crunch. You’re putting too much on your own shoulders, Charlie. Let someone else take a turn for a change.”

A sudden idea lights up her face and she jumps up from her chair to wrap you in a tight squeeze of a hug. “That’s it!” She exclaims excitedly. “I’ll have everyone, including you, take turns leading trust exercises! It’ll be a great way for everyone to bond, letting someone else lead for a change!” You’re sure that if you weren’t sitting down she’d be swinging you around in a circle, despite you being taller than her. Letting you go, she says brightly, “Thank you, Theia, you’ve been a tremendous help!” She snaps her fingers and her hair, clothes, and face return to their pristine condition. Oh to be half-angel, you think a little jealously, but without malice. “Now please tell me I can do something to help you!”

“Well, actually, I was hoping you could help me find the blueprints of the hotel.” You give her a sheepish smile.

She gives you a confused look, head tilt and everything like a confused critter. “Why would you want a copy of the blueprints?”

“I was hoping to take a copy to Niffty so she could show me where her room is, see if there was a way I could get to it. I want to be able to go there and hang out, since she, too, is my friend.” It’s the truth. You’d also like to see the whole layout of this strangely-built hotel that you’re not even certain was one originally, but that doesn’t seem particularly pertinent.

harlie looks even more confused. “Why would you need the blueprints to see where Niffty sleeps? I thought she had one of the rooms, like Husk does?”

You shrug. “She apparently sleeps in a hole in the wall behind the maze of vents. I was hoping the blueprints could help me to find a way to visit her.”

Her eyes go wide. She looks deeply concerned. “Wait, Niffty sleeps in a hole in the wall?! When Alastor said that he would make the arrangements that isn’t what I had in mind! We need to get her a room immediately!”

You shake your head. “You forget, this is Niffty we’re talking about, Charlie. She’s very happy in her little hole in the wall. She said as much when I said just about the same thing, actually. I mean, you can talk to her yourself if you want.” You go over to the vents in the room and tap on them.

You haven’t peeked in on Niffty or the other residents of the hotel recently but you’re certain that she’ll be within earshot. Luckily for you, she is. “Theia?” She calls immediately, knowing that it must be you. No one else taps on the vents to get her attention, after all. “Where are you? I’ll meet you there!”

“I’m in Charlie’s office. I asked her about the blueprints of the hotel so we could figure out where your hole in the wall is and Charlie just found out that’s where you’re living and is concerned. I told her not to worry but I figured you’d do a better job.”

Niffty squeals, and it echoes through the vent. “I’ll be there in just a moment! Gotta get this stain…Listen, if you don’t come out of this carpet I’ll have to name you. And you wouldn’t want that.”

You chuckle to yourself as you hear her triumphant noise as she manages to get the stain out, then step back as you hear thumps in the vents as she moves her way towards you. She pops out of the vents and then lands gracefully on the floor. “You wanted to see me?”

Charlie squats so she can be at Niffty’s eye level. “Thank you for coming, Niffty. Theia tells me you live in what she refers to as a ‘hole in the wall behind the maze of vents.’ Is this true?”

Niffty climbs up onto her shoulder, and Charlie stands up, and bewildered, decides to sit in her chair. Niffty then decides to sit on the desk. Niffty giggles. “We comfy now, Princess?” She kicks her legs. “Yes, it’s true. I like it there, though! Sir wanted to get me a room but I insisted! It’s nice and cozy! I have a mattress, a blanket, a pillow, and I have all of my art and my roach collection! I was fine without having visitors since it’s the perfect size for me, but that changed when I met Theia! She wants to be able to visit!”

You smile at her. “Niffty is a good friend of mine. I’d like to be able to spend time with her in her room.”

Charlie looks thrilled, eyes watery and on the verge of tears. “You’re friends?” She exclaims with sheer delight. “Of course I’ll help!” She jumps up from the desk and goes to a bookshelf, rummages around for a few minutes, and then pulls out a rolled up laminated paper. Tossing most everything aside that was on the desk onto the floor and not noticing Niffty’s cringe, she unrolls the blueprints out onto the table.

You walk over to the desk beside them so you can read it easier. “So, Niff,” You say as you scan the document for any interesting details you might not have otherwise known about the building. Alastor’s tower is noticeably absent from the blueprints. You assume this means he added his tower onto the structure long after the building was created. “On what floor is your hole in the wall located?” Is that a swimming pool? On the fifth floor? Above the ballroom? Who designed this place?!

Niffty frowns in thought as she looks over the blueprints too. “Hidey Hole. I named it.” She turns towards you with a smile, then turns back to the blueprints. “It’s near the kitchen.”

“So on the same floor as the lobby, then, right? So that’s over here.” You point to the lobby section of the map. As you do so, you notice a…secret passageway near the back cellar? Where does that lead? It goes off the map?

Then Niffty is talking again, distracting you from your surreptitious investigation of the rest of the blueprints. “Kitchen is here.” She points. “Vents here. This vent goes over here.” She traces a series of pathways you couldn’t begin to memorize, then stops at a spot where they intersect. “Vent junction.” she taps a spot to the right, where there’s nothing. “Hidey Hole.” You look at the map. There’s one room nearby, but you can’t read it on the blueprints. “What room is that? I can’t read what it says; it’s all smudged.”

Both Charlie and NIffty squint to try and read the tiny, smudged font. “I have no idea what it says.” Charlie shrugs. “Niffty, have you ever been in there?”

Niffty nods, thinking. “It’s smaller than all the other rooms and there aren’t many places for the bugs to hide, so I don’t go in there much.” She shrugs. “It’s really just a bunch of cloth-covered stuff. When I found it all it was covered in dust. I got rid of it, but I’m still not sure what the stuff under the cloth is. It’s basically just a boring closet.”

You’re immediately intrigued. It could be a lot of uninteresting things, but why keep a room filled with unknown objects so far from the rest of the layout? You squint, and notice what appears to be a trap door in the floor of this strange room. While this other random tunnel isn’t drawn to connect to the tiny room off of Niffty’s Hidey Hole, I’m convinced it might. If not, I’ll just have to ask Niff to put an eye in there and pray that my knowledge of what the eye looks like and me having seen the blueprints counts as knowing where it is. You’re not entirely convinced, though.

Charlie pipes up, pulling you out of your thoughts. “It’s really weird that this room is all by itself. Why didn’t either of my parents mention this room?” She frowns, puzzled. “This building was theirs before Dad gave it to me. That’s why our family portraits are hung up all over the walls.”

So this building wasn’t originally built as a hotel. I didn’t think so, given the layout. “Did your parents build this themselves, or did they hire someone to do it? It’s a very odd structure, with no rhyme or reason. It’s like someone who’d never built a building before designed it.”

Charlie shrugs. “Dad didn’t tell me much about it, so I guess he didn’t build it himself. This room is so far out of the way I’m not even sure he knew about it.”

“So you’re saying we might have just found a hidden room in the hotel with possible secrets that even Lucifer himself might not know about?”

“I guess? Let’s not be too hasty, though.” Charlie replies hesitantly. “I can’t tell you not to go in there Niffty, but I can and do discourage it. We have no idea what could be in there.”

Niffty pouts. “Aw, Charlie you’re no fun. It’s so neat in there!”

Charlie looks bewildered. “You just said it was just a bunch of stuff under cloth; now suddenly you’re interested?”

“I didn’t know it was a secret room. I just thought it was a boring closet. Of course it’s interesting now!” Niffty rolls her eye.

“It could be dangerous. I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” Charlie pleads.

Now she’s done it, You think with a smirk. Niffty loves pain.

Niffty’s pout turns into a maniacal grin, all teeth and fervor. “I like pain!” She cackles, and when Charlie looks downtrodden, Niffty sobers slightly. Her face is pleading, hopeful. “What if I promise I won’t go in there without asking Sir for help first?”

Charlie sighs and looks to you then, as if you hold all the answers. You do, usually, but not this time. You shrug. “I don’t see the harm if she has Al there with her.”

She winces, as if debating for a moment, before she decides, “Alright, fine. Just…be sure not to go alone, and tell me what you find when you go looking.”

You smile. “I’ll be sure to relay any information you might find valuable. While we didn’t find a way for me to visit Niff’s Hidey Hole yet, it looks like something good probably came from this. Thank you for helping us, Charlie.”

Her face returns to a genuine smile. “Of course, Theia, happy to help, especially if it’s for a friend.”

Just then, the door opens to the office, creaking as it widens. It’s Vaggie, looking a little groggy but fully dressed. “Hey, babe—” She begins, but then seems to waken fully as she notices that Charlie isn’t alone. “Hello, Theia, Niffty.” She looks uncomfortable.

You give her a soft smile. “Hey Vaggie.” You step away from the desk to head to the door. “I was just finishing up with Charlie and Niffty. Charlie was helping us find a way to visit Niffty’s Hidey Hole.” Vaggie wrinkles her eyebrows. “‘Hidey Hole’? Niffty are you hiding things in the walls now?”

“No, of course not,Vaggie! It’s where my room is, silly! I live in the wall!”

Vaggie’s eye widens in alarm. “Is this Alastor’s doing? I swear if that hijo de puta is making you live in a fucking wall I will—”

Niffty shakes her head, effectively cutting her off. “Sir wanted to give me a room. I like it there! I just wanted to see if Theia could visit since we’re friends now.”

You grin at her as she grins at you.

Vaggie looks surprised but smiles. “Oh, uh, glad to see you’re making friends, then. Were you able to find it?”

“We found something better!” Niffty has that maniacal look in her eye again. “A secret room, next to my Hidey Hole!”

You chuckle. “Technically you found it, Niff, since you’re the only one who has actually been there before.”

Niffty shrugs. “I just thought it was a boring closet. How was I supposed to know it was a secret that maybe even the baddest boy of them all doesn’t know about?”

Vaggie looks perplexed. “Wait, what am I missing here?”

“There’s a secret room on the blueprints that Niffty has seen for herself before. It’s hidden away completely from the rest of the building so it’s possible that neither Lucifer or Lilith even knew about its construction. Niffty says it’s filled with things draped in fabric, that it was covered in a layer of dust before she took to cleaning it up. You didn’t look under any of the cloths, though did you?” You ask, intensely curious as to what the contents of this mysterious room might hold, especially given your discovery of the trap door that you still hadn’t disclosed to anyone, or its possible connection to the secret passageway to which they were also unaware.

Niffty shakes her head. “I thought it was a boring closet.” She shrugs. “Why bother to look at boring closet stuff? Now I wish I had looked. Then I would know it wasn’t boring closet stuff!”

You shrug back. “It might be boring closet stuff.”

“Can we please stop saying ‘boring closet stuff’?” Vaggie groans.

“Why?” You smirk. “What’s wrong with boring closet stuff, Vaggie? You’re already out of it anyway.”

“Now we’re making jokes about my sexuality? C’mon, Theia, you’re almost as bad as Angel.”

You chuckle. “Sorry, Vaggie, just having a bit of fun. But seriously, the mysterious room is interesting, but Niffty has promised to ask for Al’s help before she goes exploring.”

“What, so whatever contents he discovers in some shady room that has never been seen before can be used for whatever mierda he has planned? No thanks.” She shakes her head vehemently.

“I mean, I’ll be there too.” You shrug. “There’s no way I’m missing out on this either.”

“Oh like that makes it better? Theia, you enable him.” She crosses her arms.

You roll all of your eyes. “I do not. Sure, I indulge him, but that’s hardly enabling.”

Charlie cuts in. “I think what Vaggie means is that you have a tendency to…get distracted by him and don’t see the bigger picture here.”

You actually guffaw. It’s not a chuckle, not a chortle, not even a belly laugh. It is a full-blown guffaw, nearly painful, as you wheeze at the insinuation that you of all people don’t see the bigger picture. If only she knew, you think to yourself, how fucking funny that is.

Eventually, after everyone just stares at you as you try to pull yourself together, body shaking with the most laughter you’ve had in what feels like eons, you manage to slowly stop laughing so hard, bringing it down to a hiccup of a giggle, and then you fall quiet. “Phew.” You wipe away a few tears, as you’d laughed so hard all seven of your eyes on your face had started to water and weep. “You have no idea how funny what you just said is.” You sigh as you calm your breathing. “Okay, so, where was I?” You blink. “Alastor, right. I know that it makes you uncomfortable that I am starting to engage in a courtship of sorts with him. I know he makes both of you uncomfortable, and I want to assure you, I am not some new, naive sinner who has stars in her eyes because some handsome man has taken an interest in her. “I know that he’s a bloodthirsty overlord with a penchant for deceit and a taste for cannibalism. I happen to like that about him, actually. I’m not sure if you noticed, but I’m not that great of a person, and he understands that about me. That being said, I would never let my association with him or what we are beginning alter my perception of the best course of action for myself or the well-being of others, especially those I deem my friends, of which both of you I’d like to consider a part, if you’ll have me. I have grown to enjoy your company greatly and would appreciate it if you would give me half a chance. I realize I have openly stated that I don’t have a chance at redemption and I will always stand by this, but not only have I never openly mocked the idea of redemption, I am one of the few people who actually agree with what you hope to achieve here, even if I know the possibility doesn’t exist for myself.

“With that in mind, I will put forth this vow to you, and since you were there the day that we shared about what we admire about each other most, you will know that this vow will be upheld. Should there be anything discovered in the room in which we have found that could be of great value that Alastor could wield to his advantage or possibly harm anyone within or around the hotel, I will secure the object or objects myself in order to avoid bringing harm to others. Is this sufficient?” When Vaggie nods, surprised into silence, you smile, and give them both a nod. “Charlie, Vaggie. It was nice speaking with you. Niffty, are you taking the vents, or are you headed my way?” Niffty hops up off the table and climbs up your dress in lieu of an answer. You give her a hug, then open the door. “So what do you think is in the secret room?”

“It could be almost anything!” She kicks her legs as you step out and shut the door behind you.

“How are the objects arranged? Are they in rows? Are they big or small?”

She shrugs. “Some are in rows, some aren’t. They’re lots of different sizes. Some are really big but some are kinda small.”

“What are we talkin’ bout, my dildo collection?” Angel calls with a cackle. “‘Cause first of all, Niff, I told you to stay out of my drawers, and second of all, we all know there ain’t any small ones in this guy’s personal stash.” He gives you both a saucy wink.

Husk looks disgusted as leans against the bar, pretending to clean a glass. “No one wants to know what you keep in your drawers, dipshit.”

“Aw, is Whiskers mad he’s not getting any?” Angel asks in a demeaning baby voice.

Husk huffs. “If I had any interest in ‘getting any’ I wouldn’t be getting it from you. Fuck off.”

You roll your eyes. “You guys gonna keep sniping at each other or do you want to hear about the secret room Niffty and I just discovered?”

At that moment, Sir Pentious slithers in with his egg bois in tow. “A secret room? Why that does sound incredibly interesting! Do tell us more, Theia!”

You smirk. You have quite a lot to share.

A/N: How many times can I get away with saying 'Boring closet stuff' before it loses all meaning?

Chapter 17 is a favorite of mine. I think this rant of Theia's is even longer than the one she gave Al earlier in Chapter 9. When Theia talks, people listen. Captive audience. I think it's all those eyes.

Chapter 18 will be telling the discovery to Husk, Angel, and Sir Pentious, spending time in Sir Pentious' laboratory, and eating lunch with Angel.

Chapter 19 is a surprise and my second favorite to write so far.

First || Chapter 16 || Chapter 18

[bluebird990]

Another brain dump...and it's another theory about our resident maniac's backstory (what a shocker)...

At this point I just think that wolf does what he does for no other reason than the pure adrenaline rush.

Maybe he used to be like Gray? Like he was just drifting with no goal and without any significant purpose. N just like how Gray turned to studying endlessly, Wolf chose violence as a way to spend his days?

At this point I'm just comparing everyone with Gray...

Maybe it started off with self defense and then he just got addicted to it? Maybe it was because of grape that he realized that he wanted to just make a life out of beating people up?

Maybe Sam did bully him, not physically but verbally. I mean he did look like kind of a nerd before he grew his hair out in his wolf cut.

Outside of his love and obsession over fighting, Wolf really does kinda seem empty and emotionless so maybe that's what it is? Fighting is the only thing that makes him feel alive...

I don't even know where I'm going at this point. Ugh but what kind of backstory would even make sense at this point? Like in Jake's case we always knew that he wasn't a bad person so his backstory made sense. Donald's sad past has been hinted at for so long too...so idk...shouldn't we have gotten some hints already if it was something sad? And wolf genuinely doesn't seem like he cares about anything other than fighting. This Gray parallel is the best guess I have...

Day 938878 of wondering where this wild freak crawled out of...

[anabsolutefreak]

Chapter 22:Delightful Chaos

This is a canon adjacent full campaign based story involving my original TAV character, the full BG3 crew and, of course, our favorite undead high elf. I created this story to help me get through an exceptionally difficult time in my life and so, you might notice Tav's story is a little more atypical than some. Be advised that the story I have created has some mature themes including violence, kink, mental health and self harm. I will be placing warnings on each individual chapter when any of these themes are included so please be aware. I hope you enjoy. Summary: A visit to the Grymforge yeilds two awesome weapons and uncontrollable laughter. Then, later that night, we find out what happens when our resident wizard isn't careful enough with his culinary mushrooms and, incidentally, gets the whole camp high. Mature Content Warning: SMUT, nudity, alcohol, psychedelics, mentions of trauma, foreplay, finger play, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration.

Full master list for series chapters is here.

Embrae rolled out of the way, careful to stay on the small platform as the automaton’s brutal sword split the air right where she had been standing. “A little help!” She shouted at the others as she hurled an ice spike toward the hulking humanoid form made up of gold and silver metal. 

Another arrow hit the thing from behind. It did little but it did draw the things attention away from Embrae and onto Astarion. 

“Remind me again why we had to come here!” shouted the vampire as he too dodged a strike from the metal monster. 

Gale hit the thing with magic missile. “I told you, the adamantium forge hasn’t been seen in centuries! The opportunity to see—” he yelped as the monster turned to the wizard. “Um, Karlach?!”

“Hold on there, squishy,” she teased. She leaped through the air, axe raised, and brought it down on her enemy's head with a clang, then artfully pushed off of its side to land on a platform next to Lae’zel narrowly missing the magma pooling around them. “Hey, I just came because I was promised a new badass weapon. Yeah, you great metal arse!” She shouted as the automaton whirled on her. “Come see Momma K!” Karlach was enjoying this way too much, thought Embrae. 

Its scream was the sound of screeching metal and the hissing of steam as it took the bait and hulked towards the tiefling. 

“Everyone hit it with everything you’ve got!” Screamed Embrae. Her ranged attacks had been all but useless on it but if they overwhelmed the thing, it would allow Karlach and Lae’zel to hit it hard. 

It worked, as the creature was hit on all sides by magic missel, arrows, and nearly ineffective ice spikes, it teetered directly in front of the barbarian and the fighter, its head swiveling uncertainly as it tried to pinpoint all of its attackers. The two women didn’t allow it to recover, rushing forward and slashing at it ruthlessly. Karlach laughed maniacally and leaped onto its back, driving her axe into the gap between its shoulder plates and head. There was a hiss of steam as the creature froze in mid-strike and fell forward. 

“Yes!” Shouted Karlach as she stood atop it. The magma drained around them, leaving the forge once again clear. The tiefling stomped down on the metal monster's back and danced happily atop it. “Momma’s getting a new axe dammit!”

Embrae was hunched over panting and gasping from heat and exertion but she looked up at her friend and had to laugh. “I think this climate must agree with you after all Karlach. Also, you’re insane.”

Karlach hopped down. “And you love it.” She grinned. 

“I know I do,” grinned Astarion. “Very well done, indeed.”

“I too, would like an adamantium sword, until such time when I am granted a silver one,” said Lae’zel. 

Embrae wiped the ever-present sweat from her forehead and groaned. “Well, we’ve got the molds and some ore, why don’t you see if you can’t try making anything without getting attacked again… Um, I’m just going to sit a minute.” She plopped down on her butt and rifled through her pack, pulling out a limp water skin. She opened it and tilted it to her mouth with a groan. Empty. 

Shadowheart put a hand on her shoulder and offered hers. Embrae accepted gratefully. The water was almost as warm as the air around them but at least it was wet. The cleric smiled and walked off to see if any injuries needed tending. 

The wizard was bent over the forge talking to Karlach and Lae’zel as they tried to follow the instructions in the book they had picked up earlier from the myconids. Evidently, Flomph Mating Rituals had actually been a magically encoded instruction manual for operating the forge. Astarion had simply appeared beside her, as was his way, and was staring at something beyond the great metal disc that housed the forge. He was sweating too, his pale skin gleaming with moisture… Somehow, it only made him more appealing. “What are you looking at?” She asked curiously. She stood up next to him. 

“Just down there, on that little island of rocks. Do you see it?” He pointed. 

She squinted. She could see it sticking out of the magma. “What, the chest? Oh Astarion, you can’t be serious.”

“Oh come on,” he said. “They get to make brand new toys. I want to go see what kind of treasure someone would hide here.” 

“Fine,” she growled, rolling her eyes. “You still have that ring on?” He had found a ring that allowed him to cast misty step. She could cast it without jewelry, she thought a bit smugly. Halsin had taught her. He smiled happily and held out a hand to show her the white stone in confirmation. 

“We’ll be right back, guys!” she called back. “Astarion wants to go treasure hunting. 

“Just be careful,” called Shadowheart back. And stay clear of the Lava Elemental!”

Embrae and Astarion Misty Stepped their way from the Grymforge to the small island of rocks. “Ugh,” she said. It’s so hot, Astarion. Just grab your treasure and let’s go.”

He tutted, “Such impatience.” He wiped the sweat from his face. “I’m inclined to agree though.” He approached the small ornate chest and kneeled in front of it with his thieves tools. Moments later, the lock clicked and he swung the lid open. “Scrolls,” he said rifling through, some topaz, a few potions, and— oh hello, what’s this?”

“What is it?” Embrae asked, peering over his shoulder. He held a brass amulet by the chain depicting what appeared to be a sun setting over silver waves. 

“He shrugged. I’m not sure— definitely magic though, I can feel it.” A queer expression came over him and he shook his head. “Well, nothing overly exciting. We should get back up there— it really is hotter than the hells. She nodded and they disappeared and reappeared at the edge of the Grymforge once again. 

“Find anything good?” asked Shadowheart, seeing them. 

“Nothing too exciting just—” 

She was interrupted by a bark of laughter behind her. Puzzled, she turned. Astarion was still holding the amulet in his hand, grinning. “Are— you alright, Astarion?” She asked. 

He laughed again, louder this time, “ Oh yes, I was just thinking,” he said. “We— we could turn into squids at any point you know.”

“I’m not really sure how that’s funny but,” 

“Oh my dear,” he said between increasingly uncontrolled giggles. “It’s hilarious. You’re hilarious too. I—” he broke off and hunched over, raw uncontrolled laughter pouring out of him. He gasped and tried to talk again but the laughter soon brought him to his knees. It would have been adorable, were she not worried about him. 

“What the hells is going on with him?” Asked Shadowheart. The others had noticed the spectacle by now also and were approaching the elf watching as he writhed around on his back, apparently gripped with hilarity. Embrae’s eyes locked on the amulet gripped tightly in his fist. That must be it, she realized. 

She kneeled next to the convulsing elf and tried to prize it from his grasp, thinking she’d toss it into the magma below. Instead, as soon as her skin touched the warm metal, her hand locked around his. This was funny, wasn’t it? Flying machines, other worlds, talking brains, for god's sake. The laughter was intensifying and she realized too late that it was because she started laughing too. As the delightful feeling gripped her entirely, she lost control of her muscles and fell forward onto Astarion. She was dimly aware of her other companions, looking down at them with bemused expressions on their faces. They must look like lunatics, thrashing about on the floor like this. The thought only made her laugh harder. Finally, the feeling subsided enough that they were able to sit up and another figure was staring at them, purple, transparent, and grinning at them. “How unfortunate,” the man said. “Alas, though must do, hehehehehehe. Return me, take me home, and though shalt grow with blessings!”

Astarion spoke, his voice still raw with laughter. “Return you to where, to whom?”

“To my granddaughter. Shira Clarwen. Serves Ilmater, she doth. She waits in Wyrm’s crossing. Take me there and though shalt bath in her golden gifts. Oh, though shalt be blessed indeed! Hehehehe!”

“Are you a ghost?” Asked Embrae. “What happened to you?

“A ghost? HAHA! I am sunlight on water, dew on grass. Sharrens broke my body. But my spirit, they could not. Not completely! Hehee! Though shalt return me home, it is written. 

Embrae looked at Astarion, trying not to giggle. “What do you think?” It didn’t seem like the wisest decision but— she was enjoying this demented spirit. 

He snorted. “I don’t see why not. Alright, we accept. But you’re riding in my pack. I can’t risk breaking into a fit of giggles mid-battle. It would be tremendously embarrassing.”

“Heheee! Wonderful Wear me though and I shall walk with you— grant you my power.” The spirit disappeared into the amulet and Astarion placed it into his pack quickly. 

“Well,” he said, looking up at their audience. Embrae was still half sprawled over him and neither of them had regained full control over their faces which were still plastered with idiotic smiles. “That was certainly something.” 

“Are you two quite finished making fools of yourselves?” hissed Lae’zel. 

Yeesh, maybe they should make her wear the thing for a while…. What would she even sound like laughing? Embrae struggled to her feet. “Did you figure out your weapons?”

“Got one cooking right now,” said Karlach. Just waiting and enjoying the show.” She grinned. 

“You know I’ve told you before, Astarion,” said Shadowheart sternly. “You shouldn’t up and grab every piece of mysterious treasure you find. I’m tired of removing curses.”

“Telling Astarion not to make off with an enchanted doo dad is like telling Gale not to eat the damn thing.” Embrae laughed. 

“Hey!” shouted both men in simultaneous outrage and she and her other companions smirked. 

“Just speaking the truth.”

There was a sharp hiss as the press behind them clicked open. “Looks like someone’s got a new weapon,” smiled Embrae. Let’s finish up here so we can get the hell out of this heat. 

***

That night as Lae’zel and Karlach compared and gushed over their beautiful new weapons, Embrae sat with her lute held limp in her hands near the still, dark water. They had made camp near the docks in an attempt to cool off, although no one dared bath in the water there. God knew what was lurking in that. Still, Embrae enjoyed the constant breeze that made its way from the rest of the Underdark. It was cool enough to offer relief from the near-constant heat she had endured the last few days. 

The music was thankfully less this far from the Myconids but she could hear it just the same, that low, mournful tune, playing in the darkness beyond. She could also hear from the water itself, the subtle whisper of a tune. Not a melody, really, but maybe the idea of one. She focused on it and her fingers moved to her strings, plucking a dark and rich melody. She had some idea what the words should be too and she found herself mouthing them voicelessly. 

The deep is where we all begin, 

Sink B’neath with us again. 

Your weary soul be soothed and made anew. 

Anew. 

Her fingers paused and she stared at the black pool. She felt almost compelled to take a dip. Something was down there, sure enough. 

“Fancy skinny dipping, darling?” asked Astarion plopping gracefully down next to her. 

She shook her head with a grin. “Normally I might take you up on that but I’m pretty sure there’s something down there that would like to drown us.”

“Hmph. Well, drown you, perhaps. I don’t technically need to breathe.”

“Won’t help if something with a huge mouth snaps its teeth over you.”

The elf eyed the lake cautiously. “Quite,” he agreed a little more soberly. “Wine?” He asked, handing her his goblet. 

“Mmm, got any white?” She teased. She didn’t like white wine much more than he did. 

He grimaced. “If I didn’t like you, I might toss you down there just to see if your creature theory was correct. Now try it,” he ordered. “I swiped it from one of the Duergar crates. It’s— not bad.” 

It wasn’t. The wine was deep and aromatic, almost fruity, and it burned pleasantly on the way down. She sighed appreciatively and handed the cup back to Astarion. 

“So,” she said. “We head up to the surface tomorrow… and the shadow curse.” 

“Yes, well. I’ve never been particularly afraid of the dark, my dear. Although the way our friend Halsin describes it, it does sound dreadful. 

“Well yes,” she said. “But I was thinking. If we find the answers we’re looking for at moonrise, we may be free of these tadpoles soon.”

He was quiet, sipping his wine and looking out over the water. 

“Do you think he’ll be able to compel you when that happens?” She asked the question cautiously. She didn’t want to upset him but the worry had been on her mind. 

“I’m not so sure,” he sighed. “Certainly, if I return to Baldur’s gate without the tadpole, I assume he will. But I’ve never had the opportunity to test the limits to his influence... distance-wise, I mean.”

 “Hmmm.” She thought about that. They could run, she supposed. If he wanted, she would go with him, and stay far away from Baldur’s gate. Perhaps they could return here, to the Underdark safe from the sun and far away from both of their respective pasts. A sudden question occurred to her. “Were you ever—” she hesitated. Maybe she shouldn’t dredge up the past like this on him, “Never mind.”

He turned to her, a pale brow raised. “What?” he asked. 

“Sorry, I just wondered if you ever were able to resist his influence.”

He said nothing for a moment as he handed her back the wine. She drank, waiting. “For the most part, the answer is no. A vampire spawn is less than a slave, Embrae. We are an extension of our master, bound to him, body and soul. He speaks and our bodies simply act.”

“For the most part?” She asked. 

“There was one time,” he said quietly. “But I try my best not to remember it.”

“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s quite alright.” He leaned back on his hands and stretched, closing his eyes and tilting his face towards the darkness as he might have done the sun. “What about you?” he asked her suddenly. 

he looked up, startled. “What about me?” she asked. 

“You told me Lithishim had some measure of influence on you. In what way?”

“Oh, that. It was much more subtle than what you described, I suppose. She could be vicious when she chose and she did but for the most part, she simply made me enjoy being around her, doing what she asked.” She shrugged, she was still unsure how to explain her relationship with and servitude to Lithishim. 

“Did you ever try to leave?”

“Not at first, no,” she admitted. “I was alone in a new world, completely disoriented and she set herself up as my savior. She agreed to help me, feed me, house me. I was— charmed by her really. But the more I used the power she taught me, the power she gave me, the more influence she seemed to gain over me.” She laughed. “I actually felt, happy to do what she wanted for at least 6 months. I’m ashamed to say, I enjoyed manipulating people for her.” She shook her head, bitterly. The wine was working its way through her system and the admission came more easily than it might have normally. 

“What changed?” he asked quietly. 

“I did— I think. I couldn’t remember a thing when I arrived in Faerun… and I felt— empty, almost, hollow. Nothing much seemed to matter to me, except for her. I felt nothing except when I was with her or when using the power she taught me. But one day, I was walking in Baldur’s gate. I had gone to do an errand for Lithishim.” She remembered it vividly, the smell of the sea coming from the docks, the sun burning down on her, and a young woman selling flowers to a group of eager men. “It was as though I woke up, really woke up. Bits of memories came flooding back and then the feeling of— oh hell-- just feelings, every kind you could imagine: rage, grief, sorrow, joy— love,” she said throwing a quick glance at him. “It hurt. It hurt so badly that I ended up on my knees in the middle of the street.” She chuckled. “From that day forward, I was just—different. I felt the music that I made, and the words that I sang. When I influenced others I felt them too, their fears, their ambitions, their soul—. And I felt unhappy about what I was doing to people…” She laughed. “It’s like I was a monster and suddenly grew a conscious overnight… I tried to keep going as I was, doing what she asked but I was so deeply unhappy. I started to rebel, question, and challenge Lithishim. She grinned up at him ruefully. 

“I don’t imagine she appreciated that,” he said, returning the smile. 

“That’s an understatement. She tightened my leash quite a bit after that. She wouldn’t let me leave, save to perform. I spent most of my time cooped up in my room behind an arcane lock. She resorted to cruelty when I got ornery enough, psychic torture, mind games, that sort of thing until I started behaving again… which I eventually did.” She glazed over the more traumatic parts of her story. She didn’t like talking about the torments she suffered any more than Astarion did. “But I was never the same after that. I had been devoted to her, you know, loved her, as much as I was able to back then. But from that point forward, all I wanted was to be away from her— free… of course, that didn’t happen until a slimy tentacled monster snatched me up, jammed a tadpole in my eye, and tried to enslave me to the Absolute instead.”

He chuckled. “Yes, it is a strange sort of freedom, isn’t it?” 

“It really is.”

“You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I swear there’s something of your story that sounds familiar somehow.”

Embrae felt a sudden flare of cautious hope in her chest. “Really?”

“Yes it’s just— I can’t put my finger on it. Something I might have known— before, perhaps.” He frowned and Embrae felt the hope slip away like water through a sieve. “Still, if I knew something at one point, there’s a good bet someone else might remember something I don’t. Perhaps if our journey does lead us to Baldur’s Gate, we can ask around.”

“Maybe,” she said slowly. “But where would I even start?”

“With Fae lore, of course. I think you were spot on. Your mistress seems to have Fae written all over her.” He looked at her earnestly. “I can help you find someone, an expert perhaps on fae. There are several high elves and wood elves alike who are obsessed with the subject, you know.” 

She giggled. the wine was settling pleasantly across her mind now, making her feel warm and comfortable. She was starting to notice colors that she hadn’t noticed before and they seemed to dance and pulse behind her eyes. “Not if I help you first,” she teased. “Don’t you have a vampire to brutally murder once we reach the city?”

He growled in approval, his eyes shining liquid red. “You know,” he said, his voice husky, “when you talk like that, it makes me rather want to take you right here on this dock.” He crawled towards her and nestled his face into her neck, planting a slow kiss on two fresh marks as he did. She had insisted she feed after she had eaten since he hadn’t been able to hunt again that day. 

She laughed feeling a pleasant tingle at the thought. “That may be the wine talking.” Although she hadn’t had very much, she was feeling a bit— funny. Her body felt fuzzy around the edges, her mind throbbing with a slow pleasant rhythm. 

“I’m quite sure it’s not,” he growled into her skin. He sat up and looked at her. His red eyes were as captivating as ever only now she realized that his pupils were completely blown. Odd…

“Well, it’s not very private, out here,” she whispered, nodding towards the others. 

“They seem to be occupied, themselves, pet.” He placed his hand on her jaw and turned her to look towards camp. What the hell?

Karlach and Wyll her dancing and giggling without actually touching, grinning at one another in what could only be considered an amorous fashion. Halsin was completely naked and seemed to be in deep conversation with one of his carved ducks, and Gale was creating fireworks as he lectured an invisible crowd. These were all odd, but Embrae’s jaw dropped when she saw what Lae’zel and Shadowheart were doing. Shadowehart was firmly planted in the gythyanki’s lap, her limbs completely wrapped around her. Their mouths moved frantically against each other as they moaned. She flushed and giggled, turning away. Her insides had turned to liquid sunshine although her stomach seemed to churn slightly uncomfortable beneath the sensation. “What’s happened to them all?” 

His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her close. He nibbled on her ear and the sensation shot straight to her core. “I don’t know,” he said between nibbles. “But I suspect that it may have something to do with the wizard’s cooking.” 

Embrae looked with some alarm at the empty bowl sitting beside her. They had been low on foodstuffs and the wizard had mentioned proudly something about the mushroom stew he planned to make that evening. “Oh, shit,” she said. She stood up and wobbled. Her surroundings seemed to expand and then contract around her. Every part of her body tingled. It wasn’t unpleasant but it was— unexpected. Astarion followed her up and pulled her against him so that her back was pressed firmly against him. She could feel his arousal against her ass as he kissed and nibbled playfully at her ear. 

“Hold on,” she said hazily, “You didn’t eat the soup though.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you did… And then you let me make a meal out of you,” he growled. “Although, now I have another sort of meal in mind.” He ran a cool tongue up to the tip of her ear and she groaned. Whatever was running through her system, he had clearly gotten a hefty dose of it from her blood. He continued to tug insistently at her ear and a hand moved under her shirt, cupping one breast. 

“Oh gods,” she whimpered. “What did that wizard feed us?”

“I don’t know,” said Astarion dreamily, “but it’s delightful.” He pinched her nipple between his long fingers and she yelped. 

“Ok, alright,” she laughed. If they were going on a wizard stew-induced high, she supposed they might as well take advantage of it. Taking things slow be damned. She pulled away but grabbed his hand and pulled him behind her towards his tent. They passed the wizard who was saying something about the intricacies of the weave and the importance of feeding tressym companions correctly, Karlach and Wyll who were dancing about and blushing like teenaged lovers, and they stepped over the cleric and the gythyanki who were now naked and engaged completely in one another.

Astarion and Embrae giggled as they fell over the entangled women and into his tent. He let her go and stood only to let the sides of the tent down and give them some privacy. This may have been redundant given that three of her friends were already naked and two of them were making a show in front of everyone, but still, she appreciated the thin wall of fabric between them and the chaos outside. 

She looked up at him, his lean, muscular figure silhouetted against the tent wall as he gazed down at her. It was dark but her dark vision allowed her to see him in shades of gray. His eyes, almost black now in the dim light and under the influence of whatever mushroom they had ingested roamed over her body, hungry and intent. 

When he moved, it was so quickly she scarcely noticed until he had pushed her backward onto the pillows, devouring her lips in a frantic, hungry rhythm. He pulled back and grabbed her by the chin. “I’m going to make you scream my name tonight,” he growled at her. 

“The others,” she whispered. They were right outside. Did she even care?

“The others be damned,” he said pulling her into another kiss. The kiss lacked his usual artistry and restraint. It was anxious, urgent, and completely feral. She felt his teeth bite down on her lip, not hard, but enough that she tasted blood and she gasped as he sucked hard on the small wound. She grinned, delighted as he pressed urgently against her. She returned the favor in kind when he made to pull away, biting down hard on his lower lip as she grasped his ears with each hand and pinched the tips of them. The action elicited a delicious yelp from the elf that turned quickly into a low moan as she continued to rub and stroke. 

“Gods,” he gasped when she finally released his lip. It was swollen and a bit of blood glistened there. “What the hells have you done to me?”

“No more than you’ve done to me,” she whispered pulling at the soft fabric of his white shirt. He obliged her unspoken request and raised his arms. The shirt came off revealing plains of smooth pale skin and lean muscle. She wasn’t wearing much herself, hot as she’d been, just a too-long shirt with no bra. He made quick work of the garment and she heard the buttons pop as he ripped it off of her. She wore only underwear under the shirt. These he kneeled over and ripped off with his teeth. Then he sat up, pulling her up with him and only his still unfortunately clothed lap. There, he took his time, lavishing attention on each of her breasts as his right hand snaked down to play and fondle her clit. She threw her head back and bit her sore lip as she fought to stay quiet. He looked up at her and reached around with his other hand gripping her short hair almost painfully in the back pulling her face down to look at him. His eyes were fierce and alert as he said, “I told you, Darling, I’m going to make you scream my name. Don’t you dare hold out on me.” 

She whimpered and her lips parted in a low moan as his other hand pressed hard into her, pressing forward to find her g-spot. He grinned, his sharp teeth gleaming. “That’s a good girl,” he crooned. He continued to plunge two fingers in and out of her as his thumb made languid circles around her swollen flesh. Her hips began to move of their own accord then, grinding down on the damnable fabric that covered his arousal, begging for more. 

His skin was so soft, so smooth beneath her fingers as she explored him. They moved across the planes of his chest, up his long, graceful neck, along his jawline, and across his shoulders. Her mind was so clouded by lust, wine, and questionable mushroom soup that it took her a moment to realize that her fingers were tracing over his back, feeling across the raised and jagged ridges of his scars. She realized that Astarion had gone quite still. “Sorry,” she whispered and began to lift her hands. 

“No,” he said, his voice sharp and commanding. “Leave them there.” He shuddered against her. “Touch me, please,” he in a softer almost desperate voice. She obeyed, tracing her fingers softly along the complex patterns etched into his skin as he remained locked into stillness, his breathing harsh and uneven. She could almost see them, she thought, the jagged script sprawling across his back. She found herself wondering what it had looked like when they were fresh and she shivered at the thought. He inhaled a ragged breath against her. “Enough,” he said, his voice hoarse. 

“Sorry,” she whispered again, letting her hands fall away from his skin. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder instead. 

“No,” he said hazily, placing an urgent kiss on her cheek. “Please don’t be sorry.” The hand that had remained firmly against her sensitive flesh began to move again and she felt herself grinding into the sensation. 

“Astarion,” she growled against him. “You’re driving me crazy.” 

He chuckled lightly and removed his hand, causing her to whimper in protest. Then he moved forward, pressing her against the bed, and whispered into her ear as he ground his clothed erection up against her. “Oh my dear,” he whispered. “That was my intention.” He kissed her swollen lips. “Now,” he said, staring at her beneath his lashes. “You are going to tell me exactly what you want.”

Embrae’s mind whirled in a confused, pleasurable haze. “You,” she whimpered. “I want you.” 

“That’s sweet,” he said grabbing her hand and kissing it. “But I’m afraid I’m going to need a little more than that. I want you to tell me exactly what. you. want.” He accentuated each of the last words with a small thrust against her.

“I— specifically, you mean?” She asked nervously. Putting what she wanted into words sounded unspeakably dirty. She blushed. 

He grinned at her wickedly. “Yes. I won’t do a single thing until you tell me.” 

She swallowed, thinking frantically. “Well, um, for a start. I want your pants off.” 

He grabbed her wrists and dragged them down to his waistband. She gripped and pulled and he raised his hips, allowing her to drag the fabric down over his hips. He kicked the pants off his ankles and pressed his naked arousal against her. “And now?” he asked. 

She was becoming more desperate now and he was expecting her to be coherent? She whimpered and tried to pull him down to her. 

“Ah ah ah,” he scolded, snaring her wrists with one of his own and pinning them over her head. She looked desperately up at him and he grinned at her mischievously. “What do you want?” 

She closed her eyes trying to get control over the sensation of overwhelming need and the substance-induced vertigo. She swallowed again nervously. “I don’t— I don’t know.”

“Yes,” he said firmly. “Yes, you do. Tell me.” 

She moved beneath him, desire pooling hot and wet between her shivering thighs, and then took a deep breath. “I want you to put your mouth on me,” she whispered. 

“Where, darling?”

God, he was going to make her spell it out, the bastard. “On— on my cunt,” she choked. 

He released her hands and moved downwards, licking and kissing as he did until he reached her aching sex. She almost squealed as his tongue began to lap and tease at her throbbing clit, dancing in a controlled, maddening rhythm. 

“Astarion,” she pleaded. 

“Yes?” He asked against her.

“Use your fingers.”

He plunged two fingers into her again as he continued to work his tongue across her in small, circular movements. She was already falling apart, the sensations pounding through her very core, amplified by whatever substance raged through her veins. Outside, she could hear Shadowheart and Lae’zel moaning desperately as well. 

“Scream for me, love,” he rasped, as he moved his fingers harder against her and pulled her clit into his mouth, sucking hard. 

She did. She screamed his name, just as he had promised as her walls spasmed almost painfully and she thrust up against him. Her orgasm might have lasted several minutes or a few wonderful moments. She couldn’t tell. Her sense of time was scrambled all to hell as her release raged over her. She panted as the sensation of his mouth became overwhelming, and she turned her hips away from the torment. He grinned at her and leaned forward, kissing her soundly. She could taste herself on his tongue. “Good girl,” he told her again. He kissed her on the forehead, the cheek, and the neck. “See?” He said. “You do sing for me after all.”

She laughed a little deliriously and he pressed up against her again. “Think you can sing for me again, my love?” He asked her, his voice growing urgent and desperate.

“Just tell me what you want,” she replied, her voice breathy and teasing. 

He pressed his arousal against her slick opening. “I want to lose myself in you,” he rasped. “Please.”

She wrapped her legs around him in response and pulled him forward and into her. She gasped as his full length entered her, stretching her and pressing against the farthest reaches of her. She knotted her fingers in his silky hair. “I love you, Astarion,” she whimpered. 

He moaned against her and began to thrust hard and uncontrolled into her. He didn’t say it back. She doubted if he could but she didn’t mind. All she could feel was him. She and him were everywhere, their essences flowing through the very air around them and dancing together in a thousand different ways. 

“Embrae,” he panted. “Embrae.”

The desperation in his voice sent her over the edge again and she screamed his name once again as she spasmed around him. His hands gripped hard into the flesh of her thighs as he plunged over the edge with her, thrusting hard into he spilled his seed and found his release. 

They were silent for several minutes as they recovered at least some of their wits. Outside, they could still hear Halsin muttering to his duck while Gale lectured his invisible class on the importance of correct identification of plants and fungi in alchemy. She couldn’t hear Lae’zel and Shadowheart anymore. Either they’d moved their escapades elsewhere or had fallen asleep. Astarion pressed his face into her breast and laughed silently. 

Embrae laughed too, her body filled with him and radiating relaxation as she basked in the afterglow of their union. “Perhaps he should listen to his own lectures.” 

“Mhm,” he said contentedly against her. “But I think in this case, I might be glad of the wizard’s carelessness.”

“Me too,” she whispered. It was the first time she had felt him wholly there with her, present and accounted for— unafraid. 

Astarions eyes were closed now and he looked as peaceful as she’d ever seen him. She ran her finger over her lover's lips. They parted a bit and she could feel his cool breath tickle her fingertips.  I love you, she said to him again in her head. She didn’t care if he couldn’t say it back. The truth rushed through her with every beat of her heart now, refusing to be hidden away and unacknowledged. I love you, she thought again. It ran through her veins and perhaps by extension through his too, raw and unyielding. She pressed her forehead to his as tears sprang to her eyes. She would bleed herself dry for him, she realized, and follow him into the lion's den if he so asked. She wrapped her arms around him and melted into him as his arms encircled her as well. 

I love you.

[pitty-aegis-parlor]

The 12 Worst Things of New Jersey (The State I live in)

1. Would it kill you to say "please"?

Chivalry and etiquette are foreign concepts to many New Jerseyans. And it’s fair to assume that on any given day, you’ll encounter an impatient, impolite, disrespectful or downright nasty human-being who shares your lovely Garden State. Not every resident is a hollering, boorish brute, but take a roadtrip to the American south and you’ll realize that the stereotypes about northeasterners being rude are pretty much true.

2. Our traffic mimics "Mad Max"

Infuriating traffic makes sense for our most-densely-populated state. But does everyone have to be such an impatient, over-aggressive maniac? And don’t even start with the maddening array of jughandles and traffic circles.

3. NJ Transit's cruel tricks

To plan your day with the notion that NJ Transit's train or bus will arrive on schedule is to also account for bouts of rage as your pickup becomes delayed — and then canceled altogether. How could it get worse? Oh yeah, how about a crumbling infrastructure?

4. Our eternal civil war

Want to start a meaningless argument at your next dinner party? Ask the table “Where’s the line between North and South Jersey?” and then sit back as everyone spouts a meaningless opinion. Here’s the thing: There are no definitive, state-slicing barriers now, and there never will be. Let it go. (Plus, if we don’t unite, how will we ever conquer Delaware?)

5. And another thing ... our food battles

The pork roll vs. taylor ham discussion is worthy of its own slaughter. The stupid box says Taylor pork roll, people! Both sides are correct. Just let us enjoy our nitrate-soaked meat circles in peace. The same goes for subs/hoagies, Italian ice/water ice and sprinkles/jimmies. A state divided by its snacks is a state on the brink of collapse.

6. The soul-crushing property taxes

This gripe is based purely on fact: New Jersey boasts the highest property taxes in America, by far. The in-state average is now above $8,000 per household. Alabama, and its median property tax rate of $398, sounds awesome right about now.

7. The Pulaski Skyway

Between the merciless potholes, narrow lanes and hairpin exits, the dreary Pulaski feels more like the key in a Batman villain’s plot for Gotham-wide destruction that a structure that still exists in the 21st Century.

8. That wretched Turnpike smell

Anyone who regularly passes by Exit 13 on the Turnpike, and the nearby Linden Cogeneration Plant, already shares this grievance. The intense sulfur stench is especially putrid in warmer weather — coming soon! Though New Jersey is often unfairly mocked for its smells, it’s hard to defend this one.

9. Jersey Shore headaches

A day trip to our beloved surf and sand should surely be a serene occasion. But between Memorial Day and Labor Day, the traffic bottlenecking into the area is inescapable. To park, one must choose to shell out for an overpriced lot, or circle endlessly. Once on the beach, you endure every other frustrated family in its loudest, most obnoxious state. There’s just too many of us — we should try an odd-even system, ala the ‘73 oil crisis.

10. The Jersey meatheads

Are New Jersey’s drink-slugging, muscular buffoons different from the rest of the world’s? Yes. It goes back to the rudeness aspect — much of our population already has the tendency to morph into an inconsiderate jerk at any moment. Add in the misguided sense of entitlement that comes with not being able to touch your own shoulders, and you have the bombastic Jersey meathead, whose sole purpose is to ruin your night at the bar, club, or concert.

11. Our lousy customer service

Why are New Jersey’s service and retail employees all stationed behind a wall of indifference. In supermarkets and convenience stores — anywhere where you encounter a cashier — there’s a good chance you’ll be told to have a nice day, though it’s blatantly obvious they couldn’t care less. And why do New Jersey restaurants get so bent out of shape about separate checks? It almost always leads to a better overall tip!

12. It's us against the world

What other state’s residents need to constantly protect themselves from punchlines and mockery as soon as the cross into foreign lands? If you’re in California and you say “I’m from New Jersey,” don’t you immediately feel like as though a cloud of judgement has rolled in? Sure, we defend our spot and debunk the stereotypes, but a lifetime on watch becomes exhausting.

13. Why do we stay?

Well, have you tried the pizza here? But seriously, beneath all this quibbling, New Jersey is a special place, where many folks are willing to live. Our traffic and crowds are proof of that. And despite its flaws, we love this crazy land.

Oh, and did I mention the pizza?

I have never visited or know about New Jersey, though I’ll keep that in mind!