#i think it really digs well into als thoughts

[kurishiri]

18.5 . . . “ a meaningless emotion ”

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— 🤍 his side story, chapter 18. this is one you can purchase on your second play through of his route.

— cw: the very end may be considered suicidal ideation.

Alfons: ...I think I’ve had just about enough of this blasted sob story.

I slipped out of the bed and changed——if I loitered around the castle, running into her would be a pain.

(Today there’ll be some merrymaking happening amongst the eccentric nobility.)

It wasn’t as though I wanted to go out of my way to go there, but it was a perfect way to kill time.

—— Time skip ——

Alfons: Alright then, what shall we bet on next?

Drunken man: I got it! How about this oil painting that my old man said was his most valued one, not that I know anything about it!

Crossdressing woman: Did you steal that? Vincent… huh, who is this? Never heard of him. Isn’t it just a cheap thing?

Alfons: Hehe, I must say it’s quite unlike nobility to worry over the value of the good.

Crossdressing woman: But it’s not so exciting, you know, it’s better to have something that shows its value.

Alfons: Well then… how about I give a dream where “this painting is worth 500 pounds?”

Man smoking a cigar: Oh, that’s a good idea.

Whether it was nobility, drunken people at some street corner of the bar, the orphans at the East End, and what have you, they weren’t so different.

They would find any pleasure they could through gambling, liquor, or sex, so they could live while avoiding their pains and worries.

Drunken nobleman: Hey, Al, is that rumor about you having a recent favorite true?

Noble lady with gloves: Al, you mustn’t become someone’s partner! We need you to stay a star of all single nobles.

Alfons: Yes, yes, such was my intention.

Drunken nobleman: So you say, but your heart’s already taken by that person, isn’t it?

Alfons: Hehe, I digress.

Man smoking a cigar: …Let’s just leave it at that. If we question him any more, he may never come again, and that would sure put us in a bind.

Man smoking a cigar: Even if his heart’s got its sights set on someone, it’s fine as long as he shares some of that pleasure… isn’t that right?

Noble lady with gloves: Well, I suppose. Ahh, I hope my father gives up on matters of my marriage soon…

(‘My heart’s already taken by that person’… huh.)

When I heard those words that seemed to embody the soul of romanticism,

Kate was the one and sole person who came to mind, and for a moment, I felt called out.

——You hurt me so much and leave me in the dust, but now you decide to commit? That’s just cruel…!

At some point, the little robin had made its home within my mind, making an angered face and suddenly turning away.

(Hehe… it’s not as though I’m committing.)

Alfons: Perhaps I do have some guilt left in me… ah, it’s a straight flush.

Drunken man: Al’s win again?!

As I was staring in a daze at the trump cards raining and fluttering down,

just as I had intended, time melted away into idleness.

I ended up drinking through the night until dawn and having a meat pie from a street seller for breakfast, I returned to the castle, and——

Alfons: Oh?

In a stroke of bad luck, I happened upon Roger and Miss Kate walking together.

Kate: Ah... w-welcome back.

Roger: Hey there, Al.

Leaving aside the mentally strong former doctor who, regardless whether he was aware he was being hated on, would initiate a conversation with a light tone and carefree smile,

Miss Kate very obviously looked awkward.

(I can’t even flatter your acting skills.)

She was the complete opposite of me, who had a lot of practice when it came to plastering on a smile.

Alfons: Well I’ll be, are you on your way to a most friendly outing, the two of you?

Kate: Ah, no, we’re...

Roger: What, curiosity got you piqued?

As if to make a point, Roger wrapped his arm around Kate’s shoulder snugly.

Kate: Roger!? What are you doing—

Roger: Alright then, let me fill you in. We’re gonna be spending the whole entire day holed up in a locked room, just the two of us. Let’s get along now, yeah?

(This man needs to get a hobby.)

(I hardly have any intention of hopping on that cheap provocation.)

Alfons: Oh my, is that so? It would appear you’ve found yourself a lovely playmate while I was not around. I’m happy for you, Miss Kate.

Kate: …

I gave a smile to convey I didn’t think anything of it, and Miss Kate, as though hurt, furrowed her brows.

(Aha, you poor soul, you.)

I figured she probably wasn’t clinging to Roger in hopes that he would heal her broken heart.

I knew very well that she was hardly the type to be able to do such things.

Her single-mindedness in facing me no matter how much I refused or hurt her was staunch to be sure.

(And that’s exactly what makes her different from me… I suppose.)

(Well, whether she’ll make it out safely from the basement after being alone with this man is a different story…)

(But it doesn’t have anything to do with me, so.)

The moment I tried to leave, Miss Kate opened her mouth, as though trying to pull me back.

Kate: Alfons..!

Alfons: ? Yes, what is it?

Kate: ...I still very much like you.

Alfons: ...Come again?

Roger: ... (O_O)

It was such a sudden confession of love, I stiffened out of instinct.

(………Has she gone bonkers?)

(You do know I’m the man who played your feelings of love, and to top it all off, told you it was all a ‘nuisance’ and left the bed, right?)

And yet she still insisted on pouring these dazzling words on me; what else could I think her as, if not crazy?

Kate: Even if this all amounts to a nuisance to you... this is the ‘truth’ for me, so.

Alfons: .........

(Ah, now I’ve done it. This should be the part where I laugh it all off.)

I needed to make her think that, no matter how earnestly she threw her feelings at me, they would never get through, so she could give up on me.

(So that these feelings of love she holds for me amounts to nothing but garbage…)

(I need to laugh at her, to deny her——)

My mind knew that, and yet for some reason, my lips couldn’t form a smile.

Kate: Okay, we’re going, Roger.

Miss Kate, seeming as though she wanted to run from my silence, ran down the staircase leading to the basement.

Roger: Pfft, haha... I feel like I haven’t seen you so dumbfounded in forever.

As Kate’s footsteps grew more distant, I heard an unpleasant laughter.

I hated how this man would not seem to pay any mind to the feelings of others like that.

Alfons: ...Oh, believe me, she is far from the first who’s rendered me so positively dumbfounded like this.

Roger: Hmm? So is it safe to say she’s no different than anyone else to you then?

R: Because if so, I may or may not end up stealing her away for real.

While slowly turning for the staircase, those egoistic lips showed a provoking smile.

Roger: After all, it’s not like you’d really care what happens to a toy you don’t need anymore, right?

Alfons: ………

Perhaps the reason I felt displeasure rise up from within me was because the one before me was a man filled with haughty arrogance.

Or was it because she was the one getting stolen?

(Whichever it is, I shouldn’t care for the answer.)

(Because, in any case, I didn’t have such a choice to step even further into her life to find the reason for this temporary displeasure.)

If that was the case, thinking on it was foolish. And yet——

Her lips, which were trembling as she declared how she ‘still liked me,’

the palms of her hands, which were gripped tightly together as though grasping onto courage,

and those eyes that looked so directly at me, as if to say to not misunderstand,

were all engraved into the back of my mind, refusing to let go.

The heavy footsteps going down the staircase grated on my ears, severely so.

For the feeling of a favorite toy being stolen away, it felt extremely bitter.

(Is this… jealousy? Me, of all people? But, how?)

The notion of getting something I said I didn’t need taken away, and then still feeling displeased over it and whatnot, was much like a child’s selfishness.

And besides——

(…The most I was able to do was imitate love, feeling nothing but emotional disconnect.)

Alfons: …I suppose the biggest mystery to one is themself.

Labeling the jealousy I felt that bubbled up from somewhere in me as ‘meaningless,’ I threw it behind me.

Thinking on it more would only make my helplessness more clear than it already was.

Hoping to idle the time away, I walked to my room, when all of a sudden, a certain question came to mind.

(Come to think of it, if they’re not doing anything shady, then what in the world are those two doing in the basement…?)

For a moment, I felt a sense of unease.

Miss Kate, who had said she ‘still liked me,’

was with Roger, the one who spouted off some nonsense about ‘changing fates’ and whatnot,

and they were in the basement, where a lot of documents concerning ‘Cursed ones’ were abundant, which would mean…

Alfons: …Now that just can’t be. She wouldn’t be so much a fool as to not know when to not give up, would she.

I denied it with my voice, but my chest got more and more filled with that uneasy feeling.

(What if, even after I pushed her away this far, it was already too late?)

(What if she poured even more of her feelings into me, continuing to spend more time with me——?)

Alfons: …Should that time ever come,

A: Perhaps I should simply up and disappear, just like that.

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masterlist🪞 ╱ ko-fi ☕️ ╱ comms 🤍

NOTE: this is the last his side story i will translate, and the last chapter i will translate concerning alfons main story. thank you for accompanying me so long in this translation, to those who have read it all! it really means a lot to me! i enjoy translating for al lots, and i hope that came through as you were reading overall 🥹🙏

to those who will be reading his route in en, i hope you enjoy what this roller coaster of a route has to offer! theres a lot of complexities woven into his route thats sure give you something to think about. i translated this last chapter to close off the project, putting in my best wishes for you 🫶

i have heard from those who have read what i did for elbies main story that reading my tl has helped enhance their reading experience in en, and i hope this can do the same for you! or if you cant afford the premium stories or dont want to grind for these his side stories, i hope i could provide a way for you to access them more freely. again, thank you to everyone who has supported me, read my tls, interacted with these posts, etc.

its largely thanks to you that i can close this project and look back on it with positive memories! 🪞🤍✨

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ tags🏷️ ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ @drachonia

[bboricha]

y...yes, sir! anything you say, sir! || bori's 1k special - part 1

➳ pairings: al haitham, ayato, baizhu, childe, cyno (separate) x subordinate afab!reader ➳ part 2 with diluc, heizou, tighnari, venti, and zhongli coming soon! ➳ cw: not proofread, a bit of power play (duh... they're your boss), oral (m and f!receiving), dry humping (on a shoe lol and mattress), exhibitionism, deep throating, swallowing, face fucking, dumbification, mentions of impregnation (ayato), marking, mentions of tying up hands, overstimulation, unprotected, aphrodisiac (baizhu), kinda dubcon, fingering, you're a cicin mage in childe's blurb, mention of marriage in ayato's, lmk if i've missed any...!

➳ synopsis: what would happen to you as their subordinate...?

al haitham x secretary afab!reader

you’ve met al haitham several times before… the whole mess all the sages have gotten themselves into. it was only natural, being the grand sage’s secretary and all, you would often deliver documents and knowledge capsules between the two of them. you never really thought too much of the man and neither did he think anything of you. sure, he was, well, younger than some of your colleagues, a vision holder, and… undeniably attractive. 

maybe that’s why you’ve found yourself in this position. underneath the grand sage’s desk with a mouthful of the acting grand sage’s dick. you cannot believe the amount of control this man has talking to a matra with a straight face and unwavering voice despite being balls deep into your throat. not to mention, he keeps fucking his shoe against your clothed cunt and you’re absolutely sure that both his shoe and your panties are drenched at this point. you moan on his cock, the vibrations seemingly doing something for him as you hear his voice audibly hitch and his hand fly immediately for your hair, tugging at it as if to warn you.

it wasn’t your fault, it really wasn’t. if he would just stop using his shoe on you, order the matra to leave, and finally fuck you on his desk, you both wouldn’t be in this predicament. you’re almost led to believe that maybe he likes the idea of being caught, but then it dawns on you that he just actually likes seeing you anxious. this asshole only likes seeing you in this predicament, because he couldn’t care less about what others think about him. caution to the wind, you guess, and gulp down another whine, swallowing and stretching your throat out to make room for him even deeper as he digs the tip of his stiff sole against your clit. 

you’re so close and you can feel that al haitham is too. with the way his dick is twitching in your mouth, you decide to speed up your ministrations and apparently so has al haitham. you tune in a bit, noticing that their conversation is about to end as he hits a certain spot, noticing you falter and begins to abuse it. it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet with how his shoe works itself so well against your cunt, your slick aiding in the feeling. you’re about to pull out to cover your mouth when you hear the door click shut as al haitham pushes your head, your nose hitting his abdomen with ropes of his cum sticking to your throat. you’re shaking at the feeling—at the fact that him using you like a fucking sleeve made that coil snap and you spill your essence all over his shoe.

he yanks you up from your knees before the cogs in your brain could generate another thought, forcing your mouth open by pushing down your tongue with his thumb, making sure you’ve swallowed every last drop.

“you’re a competent secretary, by the way. i can see why you were kept around—your services are much needed everyday in my office.”

kamisato ayato x retainer afab!reader

you grew up with the kamisatos, your family serving them as their retainers. your parents served the former heads while you were taught from a young age to serve their heirs. when the former kamisato heads had passed, your parents began to serve ayato, until he had dismissed them—told them they should retire and enjoy themselves—something he had wished his parents had the chance to do as well. and so you inevitably became his personal retainer again. not that you were complaining, no, but it was different from when the two of you were children. things like helping him bathe, get dressed, and aiding him at the crack of dawn—it just wasn’t the same anymore.

especially considering that tending to his nightly duties included him being balls deep inside of you. face down, ass up, your kimono disheveled and almost in tatters, ayato muttering something about how he’ll buy you a new one, one that he’ll personally pick out—to him, it’ll be a sign of ownership. he kept his focus on plowing into you, gripping your hips so hard every night that you’re afraid you might find indents of his fingers one day, your insides already having molded to the shape of his dick.

you’re biting his sheets, trying so hard to not make a noise when he pulls out, maneuvering you over onto your back. he slips a thumb into your mouth as you suckle on it, much to his enjoyment, as he tells you to not muffle yourself. he pushes his length back inside, bottoming out when he caresses his hand over the bulge, admiring the sight and drags his hand back to your hips (where it belongs) and begins thrusting yet once again. you’re full on moaning now, relishing in the way ayato hits every place that makes your eyes roll back with his fingers playing with your clit, making the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter with every thrust.

when your orgasm hits, your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, blocking out any sounds leaving your mouth and covering yourself so ayato doesn’t see what a blushing mess you are. he tsks to himself, one that you can hear, but quickly throws whatever thought he had away, replacing it with the idea that he has all night to rid of those hands that’s hiding your beauty from him. perhaps maybe with your obi, or maybe a bright, red rope? how about both? what other sounds will he be able to hear tonight, what cries will he be able to coax out of you, he wonders, melodies that he can’t wait to hear.

his cock twitches inside of you at his own imagination. he leans down, his body almost flush against yours as he kisses your temple, placing a hand on the top of your head as his thrusts suddenly increase in speed, signaling him close to release. you’re whining at the overwhelming sensation, biting into his shoulder to help muffle your moans when ayato stills, pushing himself as deep as he can reach as he cums inside, his warmth filling you up.

“if this sticks, maybe this will give you a reason to finally marry me.”

baizhu x assistant afab!reader

you’ve been baizhu’s helper since he saved your life a few years ago. he had found you battered up and injured when he was visiting qingce village. it was only after he took you back to bubu pharmacy to take care of you, a complete stranger, were you able to recover. you didn’t know how else to pay him back, nor did you really have anywhere else better to go, so you asked for him to take you in, and he obliged, greatly appreciating the help. he especially appreciates your help in aiding him develop a new medicine.

one that involves his hand in your underwear. he coated the “medicine” on his tips of his fingers before shoving it down your pants, caressing it against your clit, massaging the substance in your insides. he pushes a finger to your entrance slowly, coaxing it in as it begins to make you tingle, your body heating up. you’re starting to get needy, grabbing at baizhu’s wrist when he keeps going agonizingly slow, and to your surprise, he lightly pushes your hand off. he says you have to be patient, that he’s making sure you’re properly absorbing the medicine, that he doesn’t want to hurt you, telling you all of this with a grin, not showing any hint of concern.

he finally pushes in a second finger, making you cum instantly around his fingers to his delight. it’s working beautifully on you, perhaps a little too well when you grab the hem of his jacket as he’s about to pull away, asking for more. he wasn’t actually going to stop, it’s not like he went in this purely for research purposes, but the way your cheeks are flushed, beads of sweat dripping down into the crevices of your shirt, the rise and fall of your chest from him riling you up—it’s enticing. he’ll just have to make a mental note for later and tend to you now, after all, it’d be cruel of him to leave you like this when you’re asking so nicely, right?

he tells to come to the edge of the bed, enough so that your ass is almost hanging off as he peels off your underwear, watching how it clings to your messy cunt, sticky with your cum and slick. he wets his lips in anticipation, wondering how well your essence has soaked up the aphrodisiac as he licks a stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste. he can already feel it getting to him as well, the residue or whatever was left on you, he figures, is still doing its job. either from the high of knowing how effective his medicine is or the effects really kicking in, he starts to eat you out with fervor, lapping up everything you have to give him, the noise so obscene that they bounce off the walls of his room.

you don’t have the time to feel ashamed by how loud it is, your hands going to tug on his hair as he grunts in response, the vibration of it ripples against you making you moan. he focuses his tongue on your clit, licking and suckling the tiny bud as he shoves two fingers into you, saying something about how you’re still tight even after an orgasm and his drug combined. he’s rutting himself against the mattress of his bed, his clothed cock desperate for any sort of friction as he feels you tightening up around his fingers for a second time tonight.

he curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out as he watches you unravel on his tongue, the sight one to behold. he gently fucks you on his fingers through your orgasm as he cums against his tight pants, slurping up your release as he stands up, unzipping himself to reveal his still hard length.

“there are still more tests to run, i’m afraid, before i can put this medicine on… our shelves, you see.”

childe x cicin mage afab!reader

you, a regular cicin mage, have been assigned to work closely under the 11th harbinger, tartaglia, your immediate response being nothing but a simple “fuck.” you’ve met the harbinger before and you immediately didn’t know how to feel about him. he was so… odd? so… kind? compared to the other harbingers at least, and on the contrary you actually felt the need to be even more wary with him. your first couple months working under him were quite fine. in fact, he was a great boss, he was kind and understanding and after a bit, you’ve completely adapted to being by his side. 

that is until he drags you to a harbinger meeting, forcing you to sit next to him as he places a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. he’s stroking the soft flesh, his pinky occasionally brushing over your clit, covered by your leotard. you’re lucky that the other harbingers can’t see what’s going on, though, they seemed to not care for your existence and presence at the meeting anyways. you try to brave up, attempting to push his hand away when he doesn’t relent, completely ignoring any signals you’ve been giving him, participating in the meeting as if he’s absolutely unfazed.

he goes from being subtle to shameless rubbing the nub, not hiding his intentions whatsoever, especially when he pushes your leotard to the side, playing with you skin to skin. your hands cover your mouth, not caring about what the other harbingers might think at this point when tartaglia dips a finger inside your entrance, slowly coaxing it in as he watches your expression, choosing to put in a second. the stretch is divine, two of his fingers already proving to be larger and deft, feeling better than whatever you might be able to do to yourself, and you’re confused. how is he touching you so skillfully? as if he’s already familiar with your walls and every crevice, curling the tips of his fingers to hit your favorite spot with every thrust.

you’re unaware of the obscene noises the two of you have been making, painfully unaware of how the jester has already brought this meeting to an end, some of the harbingers completely ignoring you both as they exit, others shaking their heads in disgust. you’re resting your head against your arms on the table, trying your best to hold in your moans despite having no reason to do so at this point while tartaglia gets more bold with his movements, ripping your leotard for better access and movement.

the squelching sounds and your heavy breaths bounce around the walls of the wide hall, ricocheting back towards you, only adding to your nearing release. tartaglia can feel the way you’re tightening around his fingers, fastening his ministrations until you cum. he groans at your pussy convulsing against him, the bulge in his pants growing larger and larger as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“darling, i think you’re gonna have to… work overtime tonight, am i clear?”

cyno x matra afab!reader

you’ve never really been a good subordinate, always skipping out on meetings as you deem them unnecessary, opting out on drinking with your colleagues, never listening to cyno. it’s not like you can help it, honestly. you have your own way of doing things and you still manage to get the job done regardless, so is there really any harm to your methods? technically no, and cyno has yet to really do anything substantial that could threaten your position, so you decide to test his patience.

his patience that apparently isn’t limitless, you’ve figured out. by…well, you know, the way he’s fucking you against the shelves in the house of daena. he’s keeping you captive, trapping your body with his as it takes all of your willpower and concentration to not make any noise—to not attract any attention towards you both. his chest is flush against yours, his cock fully submerged within you as you grip the shelf for some sort of purchase with one hand, the other desperately covering your mouth.

you can feel his breath, hear every groan that escapes his lips right next to your ear, the sensation only turning you on even further as his hand finds its way underneath your shirt, choosing to play with your nipple. he gives a particularly sharp thrust, as if he’s trying to elicit some sort of noise from you, saying something about how he’s been needing a reason to punish you, about he’s been waiting for this “opportunity” for a long time. his words are lost on you, could you not comprehend simple sentences anymore or was he spouting pure nonsense? you’re not sure, your head foggy from how slow he’s going, how he would suddenly snap his hips against yours, how sometimes he’d suckle on the nape of your neck or bite your shoulder, the figure eights on your clit, everything is driving you absolutely insane.

the general mahamatra, someone you figured whose sex drive was nonexistent, is throwing you for a loop today. someone who is more well endowed than you would’ve imagined, someone who’s filling you up oh so perfectly, the head of his dick kissing your cervix in ways that makes stars float right before your eyes.

at this point you’re tempted to place both of his hands on your hips, to urge him to fuck you right then and there in the house of daena, and you do, but all he does is grip your hips tightly, not budging an inch as he smirks against your shoulder.

“this is a punishment, remember? have i fucked you so stupid already that you’ve forgotten?”

➳ an: wow look at all those tags! also i literally have no idea why childe's banner thingy is so fkn blurry compared to the others... akhdkahsd

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[ponderingmoonlight]

Telling Sukuna you're pregnant after not seeing him for 500 years

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,4k

Synopsis: For more than 1.500 years, you found yourself in a love and hate relationship with none other than Ryomen Sukuna. But when he began to ignore you for more than 500 years, you decide to bind him to you forever - with the help of a pregnancy that shouldn't be possible...

Warnings: (y/n) is a real femme fatale aka bad bitch in this, mentions of smut, language language language, mentions of abuse towards Sukuna, mentions of pregnancy

Click here for Part ll

Your heels click against the floor casually as you swing your hips from side to side, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.

Finally. The sensation of his presence almost swallowed you whole just like it always did. Oh, how long you’ve waited for this damn moment, how you longed for him to finally appear again. Good for you that that brat decided to swallow your former lover back then.

Well, lover might be the wrong word to describe your relationship. Do you like Ryomen Sukuna? No, absolutely not. Just the thought of being around him sends your eyes into your skull immediately. Do you hate him?

“Can you shut up already? I’m…ah!”

“Stop talking, asshole”, you moaned against his parted lips, the sensation of him mercilessly thrusting into you almost swallowing you whole.

“You’re the worst woman I’ve ever met”, he hissed through gritted teeth, picking up his pace just the way you like it.

“I hate you”, you cried on top of your lungs while digging your nails into his shoulders to pull him even closer, to feel him even better.

You snort. Well, let’s just stay your relationship is rather complicated. But good for you, you took matters into your own hands.

“What do you think you’re doing there, huh?”, you casually question, bored eyes resting on that curse that kneels in front of the pink-haired boy.

“And who are you?”

Oh, it seems like this thing is a brave one. By the look of it and how he carries himself, he might be a special grade curse, he could be quite strong. But definitely not strong enough to even talk to you. You shake your head in amusement, fingers playing with a strand of hair.

“None of your business. I’m here to talk to Sukuna about something important, so get out the way before I drown you.”

“Get in line then. I am the one who will bring him back to life. He needs to assist us.”

“You must feel so brave and strong, huh? But still, you’re too dumb to realize who’s standing in front of you. Let me say it one last time, just because I’m in a good mood today: Get.out.my.way.”

You caress your belly mindlessly. Oh, you really do have some excited news. His face will be priceless when he hears your words. It’s his fault, after all. Who does he think he is to silently disappear for more than 500 years, leaving you alone without even saying goodbye? Looks like Sukuna is sick of you. Well, you’ll definitely bind him to you for the rest of your damned life. Maybe you should film it. What are those things called? Smartphones? Damn, you’re definitely too old for that dumb shit of those stupid humans.

“I’d get out of her way if I was you, curse. Or even better, go back where you came from and spare me with your bullshit, (y/n).”

That dark and unpromising voice, that annoyed undertone. Your eyes widen in nothing but excitement as well as your grin, unnecessary heart almost beating out of your chest. Finally, after all those years.

He’s back.

Ryomen Sukuna is finally back.

“I’m not going anywhere. There’s something very important we have to talk about”, you reply.

Hungrily, you take in his sight. He really does look different in that boy’s body. No wonder, after all he’s still a minor. You scrunch your nose, just the thought of getting close to this shell of a man…

Gross.

“Why are you looking at me like that, huh? Don’t you have somewhere to be, (y/n)?”

He can’t deny it, how desperately he has to supress a sly grin by just one look at you. How do you manage to always look this hot, to make his mind wander? Sukuna hates you with every fiber of his being, how you seem to always be two steps ahead of him. Him, the king of curses. Him, the one who should be in control. Him, who is technically stronger, older and more experienced than you. But oh, you do it so well while wearing that black dress and your pair of heels, the mischievous look on your face simply taking his breath away.

“Don’t worry about me pretty boy, I’m exactly where I should be”, you purr.

Elegantly, you bend down towards him, almost revealing your panties in the process. Your hand glides over his firm chest and wraps around his neck, putting pressure on his windpipe ever so gently.

“Would y’all mind to just leave? We need a little more privacy.”

Nobody dares to move, your sheer presence stopping both girls and Jogo in their tracks. You might not be as powerful as Sukuna, but the way you act alone is enough to tell them you are no one to be messed with.

And the stinging fact that the king of curses literally allows you to choke him.

“W-we…We need to talk to Sukuna”, a female voice behind you speaks out.

Urgh, is a simple no not enough? You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, making Sukuna almost shiver in excitement of what comes next.

“Listen, I tried to be nice, but you brats are testing me. I don’t have time for stupid shit like that, okay?”

One snap. One little innocent movement of your finger is enough to slice both of their heads off in the split of a second, sparing the curse standing behind you only by inches.

“If you don’t want to die right here and now, leave before I’m completely losing it, curse.”

“What’s wrong, (y/n)? Did something upset you?”

Your attention goes back to the force of a man in front of you, who lifts himself off the ground effortlessly.

“Well, I was pretty mad when I found out that you found a vessel and didn’t care enough to let me know. After all, I haven’t seen you in…how many years? 500, maybe?”

“Maybe you should leave, then. Because I didn’t miss you a single bit”, Sukuna suggests innocently.

Your bodies are so close to each other that he can’t ignore the heat radiating from your frame anymore. Why do you have to look so enticing in your short black dress? And what is that look on your face?

“Ouch, I’m here because I have something very important to tell you-“

“Get in line then, I don’t have time for your shit right now-“

Your nerves tingle in excitement when you pin him against the destroyed wall behind him.

This. This is the moment you worked you hard for, the moment you’ve been waiting for since he disappeared into darkness.

“I’m pregnant, Sukuna.”

The smile on his face disappears in an instant, you watch in sheer amusement as he turns pale as snow. This is too good to be true, absolutely priceless.

“So you fucked with somebody else, huh?”

“Both you and I know that it’s not possible for a simple human or curse to impregnate a woman like me.”

Oh, he knows damn well that you’re right. Frantically, he pushes his large hand against your stomach, searching for a sign of life. You have to be joking. He was gone for ages. And even though he wasn’t able to not get a taste of you, to not sink into your inviting flesh from time to time, there simply is no possibility, it can’t be true…

His soul leaves his body, breath getting stuck in his throat.

There it is, a tiny movement, a minor heartbeat.

You are indeed pregnant.

“There is no way”, he breathes out.

“Ask be how I did it.”

Your face is only inches away from his, maniac grin laughing down at him. You’ve had this plan in your mind for a long time. After he slipped through your fingers and didn’t return for literal years, you needed a plan. A plan to force him to stay by your side, a plan to bind him to you forever.

Ryomen Sukuna will always be yours. And you made sure of that.

“To be honest, it wasn’t hard to get what I needed for it. You aren’t especially careful when it comes to-“

“It shouldn’t even be possible”, he interrupts you breathlessly.

“You…You little bitch.”

You laugh at him hysterically as he throws you against the wall and chokes you until you see stars.

“Congrats, dear Sukuna. I’m sure you’ll be the best dad ever”, you choke out while sticking out your tongue.  

“And you’ll stay with me until the end of time.”

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[plussizefantasia]

Troubled Hearts

Read parts One and Two here: Fluttering Hearts Unsure Hearts

Warnings: guy being creepy, threats of violence, drinking (not reader) we're getting into the angst here guys sorry

a/n: hi, hello, I'm alive sorry for falling off the face of the planet. When I went to go grab the link for part two I realized that I hadn't updated this story since JANUARY!?!?! here is my formal apology: sorry. My goal is to have parts four and five up sometime this month so I can be ready to jump into CozyTober when it starts. Anyway, much love I hope y'all are still interested in the story if not I understand.

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Kili must hate himself, there is no other reason for why he’s putting himself through this. Months have passed since you had kind of sort of opened up to him and he couldn’t get you to do it again. He’d been spending his nights the same way, a constant presence at the bar. No matter the weather, the dwarf prince would be posted up on a stool. He slowly sipped the same pint throughout the entire evening and his eyes followed you like a hawk. 

You would have thought that his attentions would have waned by now, you’ve been busy with the bar, Brant unable to keep up in his old age. You figure that he was letting you take control. You never really planned to set down roots in Dale, it was supposed to simply be a stop on your journey. 

You had stumbled into the town late one evening and needed a place to stay, despite the tavern not being an inn and not technically having an extra room, Brant was kind enough to let you stay for the night, as long as you worked it off the next day. One night turned into a week, turned into a month and you realized just how much you enjoyed working at the tavern.

You enjoyed feeling needed, even if it was just to refill someone’s glass. You enjoyed putting in effort and watching yourself get better at all the different skills necessary for a place like this, and you enjoyed the subtle anonymity of it all. Nobody really knew why you were there and nobody had really asked either. Your past didn’t follow you and if you were lucky it never would. You had worked hard and carved out a little life for yourself here, a life that you loved.

Well, a life that you loved most of the time. Up until those nights when every man was just a little too drunk, every woman glared just a little too much and your skin felt just a little too wrong on your body. You did your best to let it all fall off your back, to push through and let yourself be lost in your work but you didn’t always succeed.

You were not sure what hour of the night it was, it seemed that within these four walls, time flew and stood still all at once. What you did know however was that you were getting sick of Roland’s jeers and jibes. You were sure that it was his way of flirting, but you had never really ascribed to the type of flirting where you tore the other person down in the hopes that they begged you to build them back up. Roland was a dick. It was as simple as that and if he thought he had a chance with you he was sorely mistaken.

He had yet to get that through his thick skull though. You balanced a tray of pints above your head with one hand and a tray of food in the other. You expertly wove in between patrons, making your way to the back where Roland and his men often gathered.

“Ah, here she is. Lovely lady with a body to match.” He didn’t wait for you to place the tray down on the tabletop next to him. He just reached his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. His hand digging into the flesh there and making you move towards him to try and get away.

“What do you think lads? Don’t we make a pretty picture?” There were slight nods from the men around you, most of them had eyes only for the ale you were still holding. You noticed that this was often the case. Roland spoke and told stories, he was loud but nobody ever really listened to him.

“I think… that I have more work to do so if you would kindly remove your arm from my waist…” You looked at him, arching an eyebrow. “Before I have to remove it for you.” 

He chuckled deeply in his throat but followed your instruction and released you.

“Alright Gents, here are your pints and your pies, anything else for tonight?” Nobody spoke up, except for a few mutters of thanks. “Well, you know where to find me if that changes.”

You made your way back up to the front of house, sliding behind your bar and releasing a deep breath.

“I don’t understand how you do it.” You look up and into the eyes of the dwarf who just spoke.

“Do what Kili?”

“How you let him treat you like… that like you belong to him.”

You bristle at this. “I belong to nobody but myself Your Highness.”

“I know this, and you know this, but the brute doesn't seem to get it.”

“The brute is manageable Kili, he and his friends give this place far too much business for me to be anything less than civil with them.”

“Civil is fine, I just don’t wish to see you get hurt.”

“I appreciate that Kee, but I can handle myself.” 

“I never thought you couldn’t, I just want you to know that you don’t have to handle everything on your own.”

“I’ve been on my own for a long time, it's not easy to give that up.” You see a customer flag you down a few tables away. “Know this, my dwarf prince, should I need protecting… you’re the one I’d ask.” You smile at Kili and pass him offering him a small smile as you get back to work.

The night continues much the same, people come and go. The group in the back gets steadily more rowdy and you glance at the clock every once in a while hoping that the hands will have moved further than they have.

You serve food and drink to several patrons throughout the night, most kind some not as much. You were being truthful with Kili when you had told him you’d come to him. You just didn't think you’d ever need to. Your past wasn't the nicest and you’d quickly learned to take care of yourself because the people who are supposed to take care of you won’t always be there when you need them to be.

The time flew by faster than you’d thought, you’d apparently been lost inside your head for most of the night. The only light was that of the candles on each table and the fireplace next to the kitchen which was miraculously still lit. You’re not sure how, it's your job to keep it going and you know that you hadn’t stoked it all night. 

The darkness outside creeps into the space and more and more people begin their journey home. All your regulars settle with you or get glared at for their insistence that they’ll pay up next time. Eventually the space empties… mostly. Roland and his friends have settled a little but they still sit vigil in the back of the space, you lost count of how many rounds they’ve had but none of them are belligerent so it couldn’t have been more than eight. 

“Y/N, Another!” One of his comrades yells toward you. You forget his name, Roland’s never-ending cycle of yes men made it difficult to learn names, so at some point, you’d stopped trying.

“I don’t know if you Gent’s noticed, but we’re closed. Go home, I’m sure your wives are wondering where you are.”

“What the old lady doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” The same man yelled out, his remark setting off a burst of laughter from his buddies.

“Come Y/N, one more round and we’ll leave when we’re done.” Roland turned his body to face you and what you imagine to be his attempt at a suave smirk graced his face. 

“Sorry boys, but closed means closed, settle your tabs and go home.” You roll your eyes at the grumbling and whining that come from the group of grown men but do not sway in your decision. One by one they come and hand you some coin, some thank you and some say nothing but all of them leave as they were told.

Roland is the last to come up, as he so often is. “I don’t know why you spend so much time here, if you were mine you’d not have to work one more day in this place.”

“Well, I’m not yours and I like working here.” You place your hand on your hips and cock one out to the side. 

“Yet.” Roland leans over the bar and licks his lips. You lean back in order to put distance between your face and his. 

“Not ever.” You firmly reply. “I am your barmaid nothing more, the sooner you get that the sooner you can move on wooing the other ladies this wonderful town has to offer.”

“Ah, but none of these other ladies stir me as much as you do.” His grin becomes sharper and he moves even closer to you. 

The space behind the bar isn’t very large, big enough for one person really, and with how far he’s leaning you can feel your back brushing against the shelves behind you. 

“The only thing I want from you Roland is payment for your tab and for you to leave.” Your voice carried the weariness that was creeping into your heart, men like Roland rarely took no for an answer. You didn’t want to have to hurt him, it would be hard to explain. 

“Such harsh words darling, I promise I’m not nearly as bad as you think I am.” He reached forward and grasped your wrist. You pulled away instinctively and his grip hardened. “I think you might even like it.” Your face screwed up and you bared your teeth ready to rip out of his hold.

“Get your hand off her.”

Your head whipped to the voice. Kili. Why was he still here? How long had he been here? How much had he seen?

“Piss off runt, this is between me and the lady.” Roland didn’t move his eyes away from you.

“Remove your hand from my One or lose it, you oaf.” Kili growled from the corner of the room. The sharp sound of metal reverberated from the space and if you thought the rage on Kili’s face was intense, it was even more striking with a sword in his grip.

Both you and Roland were looking at the dwarf now. Your lips had parted and your eyes widened. Not only because you were sure blood would be spilled tonight but because of what Kili said. A thousand thoughts ran through your head all in the same second. You had to shake yourself back to the present.

Roland’s grip on your wrist slacked a bit and you took the opportunity to bring your arm to your chest. Your eyes bounced between the two men. You looked around behind the counter, searching desperately for something you could use. You let out a breath when you caught sight of the wooden handle resting on top of a wet rag.

“Pay the lady and leave, like she asked.” Kili took a step closer to the brute his posture reminding you of a coiled snake, muscles tight underneath his skin and ready to strike. 

“I do not take orders from dwarves.” Roland’s voice had deepened, his frustration bleeding through into every syllable. His hand reached out towards the axe holstered on his belt.

“You will either leave here with your dignity, or you will not leave at all. That I can be sure of.”

“Mighty words for an imp.” Roland pulled his axe from his belt and took a step towards Kili. As much as you might like to see the two fight, and you really did.  You needed to stop this before it started. 

You grasped the knife that had been lying on the towel and firmly drove it into the counter in front of you. The noise stopped both men in their tracks and they turned their heads to you, not yet dropping their battle stances.

“Enough. I will not be cleaning any blood off these walls tonight. Roland, you're drunk and daft-  a combination no woman in her right mind would want. Leave and don’t show your face here again. There are plenty of other places to drink, choose one.” You look into his eyes as you rip the knife from the wood, pointing it towards him and gesturing towards the door. 

He grumbles but holsters his axe and begins to leave.

“Oaf, you forget something?” Kili called out to him. You cut your eyes to the dark-haired prince narrowing your gaze on him. “Or are you the type of man to run out on his debt?” 

Roland turns slowly and his hand flexes by his side. He takes a large breath before grabbing a small leather bundle from his coat pocket and throwing it up on the counter. Kili smirks and nods his head. 

Roland lets out a low growl but continues on his path, pushing past the doors and onto the street. You don’t move until he turns the corner. At which point you deflate. Your head falls forward like a puppet without strings and you take a deep breath to soothe your racing heart.

“What was that?” Your question, head still bowed.

“What?” Kili takes a step toward you and you shoot up.

“What was that Kili!?” Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “I had it handled, I don’t need you coming in here and threatening people!”

“He put his hands on you!” Kili shouts.

“So you pull your sword?! I do not need a bodyguard Kili let alone one with a temper as bad as yours.” You throw your hand up and drag one across your forehead. “Know this, Your Highness, I have no intention of being claimed by you.” Kili’s eyes grow wide and he opens his mouth to speak, “Do not think I don’t know what a One is, I have traveled these lands for a very long time.” You interrupt him. “I have been claimed by far too many men far too many times, I told you, I belong to nobody but myself now. Do you understand?” You look into his eyes, waiting for a response.

“I have no intention of claiming you, I simply wish to share my life with you.” 

“That is very sweet Kili, but you don’t me. You cannot possibly wish to spend your life with me.”

“Then let me get to know you.” He pleads, “I have never felt like this before.” He takes several steps towards you, pulling your hand into his own and looking up into your eyes. “They say that being with your One is the greatest joy a dwarrow can know. I have had a taste now, being in your space, speaking with you, hearing your laugh, and seeing you smile. It has made me feel more alive than any battle and made my heart more full than it has ever been. I will not force you into anything, I care for you too much for that but I will plead with you. Please amralime, give me a chance to make you as happy as you make me. Let me stay by your side and know you not just as a friend but as a partner, through all things.”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and the beat from your heart. They make you feel like you're flying and sinking all at the same time. There is a part of you, deep down that is screaming for you to give in, to let him love you. 

“Kili I-” You pause, “I am tired. Tired of a great many things. I-I I think you should go.” You turn from him and blink back the tears that flood your eyes. You hear him sigh followed by the creek of the floorboard he stands on as he shifts his weight. He does not speak though, simply drops his arm from where it had been holding your hand and makes his way to the door. 

You hear it open and your shoulders tense, the chill air floods into the room and nips at your skin. Then the door shuts and you're alone. Not for the first time, you question if this really is all for the best.

taglist: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10 @targaryenteam @sunnysidesidra @shadowrose13-blog1-blog1

[rewrittenwrongs]

Having thoughts about the League of Assassins. It’s pretty common among them to form hierchy/ranking around who’s a better fighter and who beat/killed who. I can’t remember if it’s canon but I like the idea that to prove your teacher has taught you all they have to teach you must kill them (not sure how that applies to history/math/whatever but. Moving on.) Working off of that idea, a lot of assassins in the organisation would already respect Tim for causing the death/defeat of the Council of Spiders; assassins that are so skilled they kill other assassins for fun. Him then TRICKING RA’S AL GHUL AND BLOWING UP (almost??) ALL OF HIS BASES, AND THEN OUTSMARTING HIM AGAIN WHEN HE TRIES TO DESTROY EVERYTHING BATMAN HAS BUILT, I feel like it’s reasonable to assume a lot of them would’ve decided Tim is the bigger threat or at least proved himself very formidable and a large threat. I imagine a lot of them would’ve sought him out in Gotham and pledged loyalty to him (kind of like Minions seeking out the evilest leader thanks for that thought brain), maybe doing full on traditional rituals to prove the transferring of their loyalty, like blood oaths or ritual spars idk, maybe giving him gifts or displaying their skills so he accepts them as allies rather than being disrespected and killing or maiming them since that’s the standard they expect in the League.

And Tim is uh. Very confused. Very surprised. And also trying hard not to show it. He accepts all the gifts and pledges and shit, because he sure as fuck ain’t gonna turn them back to Ra’s, but after that he doesn’t really know what to do with them. He hires a bunch of them at Wayne Enterprise and Drake Industries, tasks a bunch of them with working for Red Hood on the down low, maybe sends a couple on undercover missions to Arkham Asylum so they start treating inmates as actual human beings and stop using shock therapy or something, and makes sure to write them all up fair contracts and great pay with good work bonuses and plenty of leave, and makes sure most or all of them start going to therapy. The assassins love their new leader and would do practically anything for him.

But anyway, all that aside. I’ve had those thoughts in my head for more than a month. Something that just recently occurred to me is Mara al Ghul. Damian’s cousin. Another child raised by the League of Assassins, only this one never left.

Until, that is, she watches this freshly-immunocompromised vigilante arguably outsmart her grandfather twice, and decides he is the bigger threat, actually, I want to be on his good side when he takes over the world.

So now Tim is being forced into basically adopting this feral child, who’s only experience in American society was undercover missions to kill people, who thinks decapitated heads are reasonable gifts, who’s introduction to Tim was something batshit insane like dumping the Joker’s head in his lap because the Joker is Gotham’s most dangerous rogue and of course Tim will appreciate having him gone. But even with a well crafted facade she can tell Tim is unnerved and horrified, so she must be doing something wrong. Maybe it was because the Joker is Batman’s enemy and not Tim’s specifically? But Tim doesn’t have any arch nemesis aside from maybe Ra’s who she obviously can’t kill, so she does more research into Tim’s life and background and finds out Captain Boomerang killed his father so next she brings Tim HIS head and she can already tell he’s much more pleased this time. But there’s still that edge of unsettlement and wariness, and he’s acting so strange around her, so she digs deeper and finds out about the Titans Tower incident but Tim sent all these other assassins to work for red hood so they must be on good terms, and then she finds out about all the bad blood between him and Damian and Dick so she starts trying to kill them next, starting with Damian obviously (a mix of jealousy over him leaving the league and a good amount of cousin rivalry/cain instinct), but Tim stops the fight and tells her to stand down and now she’s scared that he’s going to punish her and Ra’s’ punishments were always so harsh and perhaps this time she can’t quite fight down the urge to hide.

Meanwhile, Tim is being dragged through a parent arc kicking and screaming, the bats are wondering why the hell there are suddenly so many assassins only after they scare off Ra’s, Jason is more or less vibing because he thinks the assassins are from Talia and the Joker’s dead so of course he’s ecstatic (even tho he wishes he knew who did it so he can thank them), Dick and Damian are still reeling from learning Bruce is alive/getting him back from the time stream when all of a sudden this masked child comes out of nowhere mid patrol and attacks Damian, and isn’t backing down even though Dick arrived quickly but when Red Robin arrives and yells stop she’s already three rooftops away by the time he’s done speaking. Everyone is tired and doesn’t know what the hell is going on except mayybe Oracle.

[girlgenius1111]

pay for your crimes

part 4! Ona and R get Alexia and Mapi back for trying to play Cupid. Or they try to.

no warnings!

You and Ona spent the morning... busy. You spent the afternoon busy too, but in a different, less sexy way: figuring out how to trick two of the most observant people on the team was a challenge. The two of you decided that Ona would call Alexia and tell her that you didn't reciprocate her feelings. You would continue your radio silence to Mapi, as if nothing had happened. At practice tomorrow, you and Ona wouldn't speak to each other, and you figured Mapi would corner you and try to get you to talk, if she didn't call you immedietly after hearing from Alexia. You'd tell her nothing happened, and even though she'd presumably know the truth from Alexia, she wouldn't be able to admit it.

The biggest problem here was Ona; she was a horrible liar. Growing up, she didn't hide much from her parents, so she didn't get practice then like most teenagers do. You really didn't know how her call to Alexia was going to go.

Predictably, Alexia answered on the first ring, her voice ringing out into the room over the speaker, clearly expecting to be told how good she was at matchmaking.

"Hola Capi" Ona let her voice quiver slightly. You turned away from her, worried eye contact would cause both of you to break into giggles.

"Ona! How did it go?" Alexia's words were said with so much excitement, you almost felt bad. Almost.

"Not great."

"What?" The confusion in Alexia's tone had you biting your lip to keep from laughing.

"We talked. You were wrong, Ale. She doesn't have feelings for me. And I didn't tell her I had any for her. I think it's better we just keep some space until we can be friends again." Ona's voice was filled with emotion, and you knew it was the stress of lying, but it sounded like she was genuinely upset.

"No, Ona that can't be right. I'm... i'm sure she has feelings for you."

"What because of the way she looks at me? I don't think that is more convincing than her telling me to my face that she doesn't have feelings for me."

"No, Ona it's not just that. Its..." Alexia was clearly struggling to not admit that she had firsthand testimony that you had admitted to being in love with Ona. "It's more than that. You just have to trust me, go talk to her again," she practically begged.

"Ale, I already trusted you. It didn't work out that well. She doesn't feel the same way, it's time to move on."

"Ona if you just-" Alexia sounded almost frantic at this point.

"No, Capi. I just need some time okay? I'll see you tomorrow." And with that, Ona hung up, just in time for both of you to collapse into laughter. She'd impressed you, keeping it together well. It turns out that the shakiness in her voice from being dishonest seemed similar to how she sounds when she's emotional.

The two of you had just stopped laughing, and regained your breath, when your phone rang. Seeing Mapi's caller ID flash on your phone literally only minutes after hanging up with Alexia was enough to push you both into another fit of hysterical laughter. You had to let the phone ring out before you could pull yourself together, wiping a few stray tears from your eyes.

"Alright, keep it together, I'm gonna call Mapi back. And Ona, don't you dare look at me or I'll lose it again." Ona took a deep breath, wiping the smile off her face, and turned around so her back was facing you on the couch. You took a deep breath too, before pressing the call button. Mapi answered before the first ring had even finished.

"Hey Mapi. What's up?" You made sure to sound a little dejected, but as though you were trying to hide it.

"Y/n! Um..." Mapi trailed off; it seemed she hadn't really thought calling you through all the way, and she didn't know what to say. Digging your nails into your palms to stop yourself from laughing again, you waited for her to decide what to say.

After a minute she finally spoke. "Patri told me you left the bar with Ona last night. What happened?" She tried to sound casual, but you could hear the serious tone in her voice. Ona turned to look at you, mouthing the words, Sure, Patri told you, before you pushed her shoulder to turn her back around.

"Oh yeah. I was just kind of drunk and freaked out over those weird guys. She just took me home. Nothing happened." You, as opposed to Ona, were a great liar. You knew how to lie, and how to layer a lie; allowing someone to see through what you wanted them to, but not alerting them to what was really going on. You let your voice shake slightly, trying to sound as though you were putting on a brave face.

You were met with silence from the other end of the phone. You don't think you'd ever lied to Mapi before, and she clearly didn't know what to do with it. She would know from Alexia that you and Ona slept together, and had a conversation, but she had no way of telling you that. She was stuck.

"Are you sure, nena? If something happened, you can tell me." Her voice sounded so genuine, so reassuring, that you had to really fight to keep yourself from telling her the truth.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Nothing happened." You cleared your throat, hoping to make it seem like you were fighting back tears. "I'm hungover though, and I don't really feel that good, so I'll see you tomorrow."

You hung the phone up before she could respond, groaning as you sat back heavily on the couch. Ona turned around, pulling your body to lay your head in her lap. She smiled down at you, and you grinned back up at her, admiring the freckles that adorned her face. You were beginning to think they were one of your favorite of her features. She absentmindedly ran her hands through your hair, and you melted a little at the sweet gesture.

"Should I be worried at how good of a liar you are?" She made it sound like she was joking, but you could sense a hint of insecurity in her voice. Instead of responding right away, you pulled her head down, pressing a deep kiss to her lips. When you broke apart, she was gasping for air, her eyes looking slightly dazed.

"As long as I keep kissing you like that, you don't have anything to worry about. I'll never lie to you, Oni. Promise." She returned your smile, before it fell from her face. Concerned, you asked her what was wrong.

"I'm gonna have to lie to Alexia tomorrow. In person. All day." She looked genuinely terrified at the prospect.

You laughed, "You're just gonna have to try your best to seem like an emotional mess and not a lying one." She sighed, clearly thinking deeply about how she was going to approach the next day.

-----

Ona returned to her apartment that night, and you decided you would arrive early to practice, to see if anyone asked you any questions, and Ona would arrive late, to avoid being asked questions right away.

You walked down the hall towards the locker room, thinking you would be the first person there. You stopped when you heard voices, leaning against the wall to shamelessly eavesdrop.

"-don't understand, why would she lie to me? She's never lied to me before, this is not normal." You felt a pang of guilt at the sound of Mapi's voice. She sounded really concerned, and kind of hurt. You reminded yourself that her and Alexia needed to be taught a lesson about their matchmaking, as they were getting too confident in their skills.

"I don't understand why they won't just admit whats going on to each other. I mean y/n straight up told Ona she didn't have feelings for her. They are making this so complicated, and now we have to get even more involved," Alexia sounded frustrated.

"I hate to point this out," Ingrid broke in, although she didn't sound that regretful, "but if you guys hadn't meddled in their relationship, they might have been able to take their time and figure things out themselves."

You didn't have to see Mapi and Alexia's faces to know they were both glaring at Ingrid.

"Helpful, Ingrid. Thank you. Ale's right though, we have to fix it, maybe we can-"

You walked in then, airpods in, pretending you hadn't been eavesdropping. You made sure to keep your gaze down, and your face neutral as you headed to your locker and set your stuff down. You could feel the three girls staring at you, and you pulled your airpods out before looking over at them.

"Hi?" You acted confused, catching them staring at you.

"Hola, y/n. How are you?" It was Alexia who responded, her eyes looking over you searchingly.

"Fine. How are you?" you turned back to your stuff, still listening, but began to pull your training kit out of your bag.

"I'm... fine." Alexia responded slowly, and you hummed in response, pretending to be distracted. The rest of the team started to trickle into the locker room, and you let yourself fall into conversation with Pina and Patri, who, unlike some other people, would never have mentioned to anyone that she saw you and Ona making out against the wall.

You watched Ona walk in out of the corner of your eye, and she sent you a small smile, back turned to Ingrid, Mapi, and Alexia, who were still huddled together in front of Mapi's locker, looking as though they were trying to construct a solution to end world hunger. They weren't paying attention to you, so you sent Ona a small smile back, before turning back to your conversation.

You didn't notice Ingrid clock the looks you and Ona exchanged, or the way her eyes followed the two of you the rest of practice. You and Ona made a game of it, seeing who could make the fake tension between the two of you the most obvious.

You thought you had won when you pretended to hear someone calling your name on the other side of the field when Ona neared the water cooler you were standing by. However, Ona took the cake when she took you out with a particularly nasty tackle that left you sprawled out on the grass, not bothering to apologize, going so far as to step over you before you could get up. The whole team exchanged looks at that one, and even though your body ached from the impact, you really weren't mad; Ona was competitive, you knew this.

Mapi helped you up, shooting a glare at Ona, and you had to hide your smirk in your shirt, wiping off your face with it. You still hadn't noticed Ingrid watching the two of you carefully, whereas Mapi and Alexia were individually focused on each of you.

When practice ended, you headed into the locker room, leaving a couple players out on the pitch to work on penalties, including Mapi and Alexia. As you neared the door to the locker room, you felt a sharp pain on your ear and yelped, feeling yourself be dragged down the hall. You heard a similar yelp coming from the other side of you, but at the risk of losing your ear, you didn't turn around to look for the source. Instead, you let yourself be pulled into the medical supplies closet, turning to face Ingrid, who let go of your and Ona's ears once the door shut behind her.

She looked at the two of you, raising an eyebrow, before she reached out a hand and pulled the neck of Ona's training top down slightly, revealing the many, many hickeys littered across her upper chest. It's possible you had gotten carried away yesterday morning, and Ona had to be careful about which top she wore, as the marks were barely covered by her shirt. Ingrid must have spotted one peaking out. You both blushed, and Ingrid sighed.

"You know that you're driving both of them crazy right? They think they've ruined your relationship, and both of you are going to die alone unless they do something to fix it." You fought back a laugh, and could tell Ona was doing the same.

"This is what they get for trying to play cupid. It could have ended like this, and they need to be taught a lesson. Who knows who their next victim could be," you joked, looking for a laugh from Ingrid, but only finding a serious face. "Oh come on, Ingrid, I heard you telling them the same thing this morning in the locker room." Ingrid opened her mouth to respond, but Ona interrupted her.

"Wait, how did you know?" she questioned, and Ingrid rolled her eyes.

"It's painfully obvious to everyone except those two! The little looks, little smirks at each other when you think no on is watching. That absurd tackle. The only people who don't know are Alexia and Mapi, because they're too upset to notice." Ingrid was shamelessly scolding you both, and you started to feel guilty. She turned her attention to you before speaking again. "You know Mapi cried yesterday when she got off the phone with you? She knew you were lying to her and she couldn't understand what she did to make you not trust her."

It made sense why Ingrid was so upset. She was fiercely protective of Mapi, and even though you knew she agreed with you, making her girlfriend cry was clearly a step too far.

You sighed, "We weren't trying to upset them, it was just supposed to be a little joke." Ona murmured her agreement with your statement.

"Well you did upset them. They both really care about the two of you, and thought they had really messed up. So now you're gonna go march into that room and tell them the truth, before you make my girlfriend cry again. Got it?" Her hands were on her hips, and she was glaring at both of you as you hung your heads in shame, and agreed. Ingrid had a reputation for being a big softie, but she could really turn on the stern when she wanted to.

She led you out of the closet, bringing you to an empty conference room, leaving with a warning to stay put. You and Ona looked at each other, exchanging wide eyed glances, not finding the situation so funny anymore.

"Damn, I really didn't expect them to be that upset," you stated.

"You know, I always assumed Mapi was in charge in that relationship, but clearly I've underestimated Ingrid" Ona mused, shutting her mouth tightly as the door opened again.

Ingrid walked in, with an incredibly confused Alexia and Mapi trailing in after her. You met Mapi's eyes, and she looked so worried that the guilt you felt tripled. Ingrid gestured for everyone to take seats at the table, looking like the least professional business meeting anyone had ever had.

"Tell them what you two did," Ingrid said, when it became clear neither you nor Ona were going to start the conversation. Mapi and Alexia turned to the two of you, confused.

"Well. We did talk yesterday. And we realized that the two of you were both telling each other things, and trying to get us together, and we were kind of annoyed, so we decided to tell you guys that we weren't together. But, we are. We figured it out," you started.

Ona continued, "and we didn't mean to make you guys upset, we thought it would just be funny."

Alexia and Mapi looked back and forth between the two of you for a minute, before saying at the same time, "so you ARE together?"

You and Ona nodded, and the two girls opposite you let out huge sighs of relief. Mapi ran her hands over her face, and you hadn't realized how tense she had looked until you watched it leave her body. Alexia looked like she was fighting back tears, which was incredibly alarming; you'd seen Alexia cry maybe 3 times. You and Ona started spouting out more apologies, but Mapi held up a hand, and you both grew quiet.

"We were upset because we though we'd pushed too hard and ruined your relationship. Can you imagine how guilty we felt? Lying to us was really mean. That being said, we shouldn't have started conspiring together in the first place, and for that, I'm sorry." Mapi was so rarely serious, it was really a sight to behold.

"What happened to the little Ona I knew that used to cry every time she lied?" Alexia was glaring at Ona, and you laughed quietly.

"She used it to her advantage. She had to sound upset to be convincing," you responded, and Ona slapped your arm, shooting you a glare.

"Alright, we've all apologized, everyone knows the truth, are we free to go now," Ona asked, directing her question towards Ingrid.

Ingrid looked between the two of you for a moment, before sighing, and standing up, heading towards the door.

"Fine. But you should probably make sure to cover up those hickeys all over your chest before you change in front of everyone tomorrow Oni." She smirked back at you, heading back into the locker room, as Alexia and Mapi looked at the two of you in horror. Ona made to bolt out of the room, and Alexia chased after her, demanding to see what ungodly things Ona had allowed you to do to her.

Mapi still looked grossed out at the thought, but you crossed the room, wrapping yourself around her in a hug.

"I'm sorry I lied. I never meant to make you feel like I didn't trust you," you mumbled into her shirt. She wrapped her arms around you, squeezing tight.

"All forgiven, nena. I can't stay mad at you. As long as you're happy, I'm happy." You pulled back, smiling at her. You heard a shriek come from the locker room, followed by Alexia's voice.

"My god! One wasn't enough, y/n, you needed to leave 15?" You winced, and Mapi looked down at you, her face once again one of disgust. You shrugged at her, and she wrapped an arm around your shoulders, walking you back to the locker room, hopefully to help you save your girlfriend from Alexia, but more likely to join in on the teasing. You found that you didn't really mind it.

-----

this was.. way more fun to write than I was expecting. hope you enjoyed :)

[radio-writes]

It's about time for your blood to spill + you should sleep + we were soulmates

(Congrats on the 300 followers btw!)

Now, The Echoes Interlace

300 Followers Event

Warnings: Blood, physical injuries to reader, ambiguous major character death(s), angst

Tags: Alastor x reader, gn reader, relationship can be read in any way

MDNI

"You always have looked so pretty in red, Al." You hummed as your combed your fingers through his soft hair. You pressed your fingers against his scalp, lightly massaging against his antlers.

The light static that varied in volume crackled. "Fuck you." Alastor managed to say as his head laid on your lap.

His smile was strained—present, of course, as it always was, but strained. The trail of blood from his mouth dripped from his chin, joining the warm pool under both your bodies.

"Rude." You scolded him. Your breath coming out in a hiss as Alastor dug his claws into an open wound on your leg. 

"Must you continue to hurt me? You're already dying." You glared down at him as you would at a misbehaving pet.

You leaned forward, easily removing his hand from your body without much of a struggle. He only had so much strength left after all. 

"Fuck you." Alastor repeated, static morphing his voice this time around.

"Yes, well, I get that you're mad, Al." You continued your casual tone. "But it was about time for your blood to spill, don't you think?"

You grunted as you leaned your back against the cold wall again, sighing as the tension on the wound across your stomach was lessened.

"F—"

"Fuck me, yes yes." You cut him off. "Save your strength or you'll die out faster."

Alastor didn't mean to listen to you, but he just felt far too tired to argue otherwise.

Your hand returned to his head, damp with sweat and blood, and yet somehow still so adorably fluffy. Leave it to this guy to still look so presentable even when dying a second time around.

Your fingers scratched at one of his tufts of hair, causing it to give a slight, involuntary twitch.

"So they are ears." Your voice was soft. "I always assumed but was never really sure, you know?"

Alastor didn't respond. His red eyes continued to glare at you.

He adjusted his hands to lay over his chest. A weak attempt to slow his loss of blood. He didn't even have enough energy to press on it anymore.

"Hey, Al." You wheezed, breath slightly knocked from you. You had adjusted the way you sat so the demon could lay more comfortably on your lap. "Do you remember how we first met?"

"You told me that cheesy pick up line. How'd it go again?" Your hand paused as you tried to remember. 

A rather dashing demon slid up to you at the bar; charming, sharp smile, on full display. You've seen all sorts of sinners by now, but none so happy while rotting in hell.

You expected him to sell you drugs, or quite bluntly tell you to sleep with him. What you got instead was a very corny: 

"You must be buried treasure, because I am absolutely digging you." You let out a tired laugh, hand continuing to pet Alastor once more.

The sound of static crackling again was the only response you got. You think it meant fuck you. 

"Well you must be treasure as well, Al. Because it seems I'll be burying you tonight." You met Alastor's harsh glare with a soft smile.

"What? That absolutely was funny, you can't deny it." You defended yourself.

Alastor didn't think him dying was funny at all, actually, but he didn't exactly have any energy left to say that.

His smile was a tight, close lipped one, but you see his lips try to curl just a tiny bit in what you assumed would have been a snarl. 

"You always thought I was hilarious." Your own hand moving over the gash on your neck as if it was a mild inconvenience. You titled your head as you looked down at the demon on your lap. "What changed?"

Alastor merely glared at you.

Your eyes traveled down his body, staying on the deep wound oozing across his chest.

"That's not fair, Al." You laughed tiredly, eyes staying on his bloodied torso. "I always thought you were incredibly handsome—sinfully so really. But your attempts at killing me never changed that."

"Fuck you." The static over his voice was gone now. His tone was as spiteful, angry, and condescending as always, but much, much weaker.

Your eyes drifted back to his face. His smile was still present, but his lovely red eyes seemed more unfocused than they were a second ago.

Your hand in his hair stopped their movements. For a moment, the world was still as you wondered if your company had already left.

But it was merely for a heart beat, as a ragged breath from his lips snapped time back into motion.

You pealed your fingers from his hair, bringing them down to softly rub your knuckles down his cheek. He doesn't so much as flinch, but, you knew he would have had he been able to.

"Hey, old pal." You cooed softly. "You should sleep, you look so very tired."

His fingers on his chest twitched once, but you didn't get much of a reply anymore after that.

You sighed heavily. Your hands rested on his face as you leaned your head against the wall behind you, face craned upwards to the red sky that covered all of Hell.

Your own eyes closed, realizing just how tired and weary you yourself were.

Still, you were never one to be silent around a friend—or foe. It had always been unclear to you when it came to Alastor.

"We were soulmates, wouldn't you say so, Al?" You continued softly. "But in a funnier way, I think, where we were always meant to destroy the other."

Alastor's skin felt as it always did beneath your fingers. The stench of blood heavy as it always was around him. You felt his familiar eerie presence by you, as you always did.

And yet, you were unsure if he actually was still there. You were quite conflicted about how you were supposed to feel about that, truth be told.

"Fuck you, old friend." You sighed, eyes remaining closed, smile tiredly stretching across your own lips.

[yangsharperavery]

my carmy/sydney related thoughts on season 2

i think when digesting this show, it's done more easily when we see who carmy and sydney are as people and how they bring that beingness to their dynamic.

it's interesting to see the takes from people who are troubled by what they saw in this season in terms of their relationship.

i personally thought there was so much fascinating groundwork that was laid.

we knew when molly gordon was cast they were likely trying to introduce a love interest for carmy.

i was not shocked, i was not surprised. i literally expected it.

doesn't mean i wasn't rolling my eyes but i was well aware of what function she would play within the narrative.

but the writing is so sharp that there are a million subtle elements of carmy's character, and what we know about him up to this point, including what was illuminated by the christmas episode.

let's first talk about carmy's choices and behavior where it relates to claire vs sydney and the restaurant.

we know that carmy is awkward, isn't incredibly relationally experienced and has sacrificed everything for his career and specific level of skill.

he'd just been ruminating on expanding his experiences as expressed in the al-anon meeting.

we know this man is intensely grief-stricken and also that he's battling his own mental health.

we also know he's literally been bred from chaos and emotional tumult.

even him not going to his own brother's funeral makes so much sense after that christmas episode.

he couldn't stand to witness what that type of grief had done to his already deteriorating mother.

so he's trying to conceptualize fun.

notice he wasn't trying to conceptualize love or relationships or a partner.

it was literally presented and integrated as fun.

so he runs into this girl he used to a have a crush on and even then, he's not sold because he knows himself, he knows his priorities, his propensities toward self sabotage, etc so he gives her a wrong number.

yet she persists.

so to me, this may seem like a sign to him to give this a chance, do some exterior exploration of something outside of the kitchen and outside of his career and outside of his own neurosis.

so he's just going with the flow. trying to be "normal". not really knowing the content or context of anything. another reason why he wasn't even calling claire his girlfriend.

claire even brings up the fact that they'd hung out so much but didn't actually talk.

which is SPOT on because the audience only actually ever sees them talking about their careers or what they were like as kids/teenagers.

but you know who carmy DOES talk to? hmm, more on that later.

so claire is symbolic of this thing that was pleasant when he was younger, when he was less of this grown conglomerate of anxiety and disarray and sorrow. a part of him that's separate from all of his current worry and fixations and dysregulation.

him saying he loves her so much and that he thinks she's so great actually rings hollow because we, the audience, didn't actually get to see when and where that level of specific emotion or intensity occurred.

so off rip i don't believe him. i don't think about it in the context of if or when he and sydney explore anything, because it feels patently untrue to me.

and completely separate from sydney.

it's not earned. it's not rooted. it's not tacitly valid.

it's fine. it's a good time. it's some laughs and conversation and sex and a nice, normal person he has fond, nostalgic memories of.

and i think it's written that way on purpose!

so him professing this to other people feels like this way to continue digging a hole of his own distraction, his absence, his lack of attention to detail.

i completely understand the frustration that many feel about interpreting this like carmy was essentially choosing claire over sydney.

carmy was trying to have an unfamiliar and different experience and didn't have the depth perception, the self awareness and the internal regulation to recognize he was doing it to the detriment of something so deeply and irrevocably important to him.

as soon as sydney brought it up, he got defensive but then moments later recognized his errors and apologized.

she told him she didn't want to share his attention.

he told her she was absolutely correct and that she deserved his full focus.

what's fascinating about this part is they aren't even explicitly talking about the restaurant.

she says "me" and "i", he says "you".

uh. wow.

now even in the context of JUST the restaurant this is saying ALOT here.

him instantly apologizing and agreeing with her requests means a substantial amount.

carmy isn't an ass because he stood sydney up for the palate cleanser. or even because he went absent when he shouldn't have.

carmy is deeply troubled and wounded and suffering and he was grappling for something else to feel or do or think about besides what he's ALWAYS thought about and done and fixated on.

that's why he's unreliable, that's why he's haphazard and emotionally or energetically messy. he's coping.

that's why he knows he makes mistakes all the time. because he feels like he's a screwup in a lot of specific ways in his life so he's used to it.

he's not being malicious or cruel or even unkind to sydney.

and this isn't an excuse. it's a reason. it's what all the information we have about him up to this point is providing us.

and yes, his timing is godawful.

but he trusts this person so implicitly because he knows how talented and capable she is.

carmy does not know HOW to be a partner, of any kind. where would he have learned that? where would that have been modeled for him?

"this is what you wanted originally and i'm giving it to you."

so let's transpose the way carmy and claire are presented with how carmy and sydney are together.

he literally can't WAIT to hear what sydney has to say. about literally anything.

at any given time.

"say more please."

all he wants to do is listen to her talk. he wants to know everything about her. the personal stuff too, almost especially.

he listens to her so closely. in the first or second episode she loses her train of thought and he repeats everything she just said.

i don't even think it was restaurant related.

he brings up her mother not once, but twice.

he feels like he should have known that sydney lost her.

he wants to pour into and believe in her because he does. he already does.

he's ready to apologize to her because he knows what a mess he can be and often is.

he knows what his anger can do. he knows how he was conditioned and raised in the industry and he doesn't want that at all for her, least of all from him.

especially after she walked out last season.

he's hyperaware of it. he calms down instantly both times she does the sign for sorry that HE taught her.

he has this propulsion to NEED to know what's happening with her in the very moment something occurs.

he did it last season when she quit on the spot and he kept trying to talk to her when she was leaving.

he did it this season when she was frustrated and trying to say goodnight after carmy was actively telling everyone goodnight and to go home, yet he tried to talk to her when she was leaving.

"what?"

"i'm saying goodnight."

he was repeatedly ushering everyone out but because of the look on her face, carmy's like wait, "what's that about, what's happening?"

he can't stand it!

same with them outside last season when he brought her food and asked what was wrong.

if something is up with her, he reacts immediately.

if she's peeved, he wants to know why right away, he wants to know what to do to make it better, how to approach it, what to say, he goes out in search of that information in the moment it's happening.

sydney is his soft place.

he feels very anchored and tethered to her and i believe she feels the same with him.

sydney is his respite. his peace. the thought of her literally calms and stills him.

her being energetically seats him.

we saw it penetrate his seismic and consistent panic in real time.

that was clearly displayed for all of us to witness.

he doesn't want to be cruel or unkind or anything other than present and communicative with her.

i'd venture to say he actually doesn't want anything more than that, besides maybe the restaurant to succeed.

now sydney is in her "i have something to prove" era.

she is so driven and so determined but she's also a realist and is inundated and surrounded by all this proof that what she's doing may be foolhardy.

at the very least, it's incredibly risky. it's a jump.

and someone deeply ambitious and creative and tuned in and focused like sydney has such fear of failure.

because she knows what it often means for someone like her.

that's why she overextends herself so continuously.

she's often had to and she thinks it gets her closer to the opposite of failure.

she was not only aware of the gaps carmy's absence was leaving but also planning this tasting menu with a MILLION things on it because something was gonna be the star because it MUST.

and i think the carmy absence flares a bit of abandonment as well, like he's left her in a lurch.

she has feelings about that.

she finds out why he did, and TRIES not to have feelings about that.

that's confusing and she's already beyond stressed out so she tries to stuff it.

her success is so tied to her identity because she's worked so hard to get where she is and still feels like she's not where she wants to be.

so she wrestles with worthiness and worry and the financial climate of affability for restaurants. she's riddled with what if she can't hack it?

she has evidence of that being true in the past.

she has evidence of her past failures and those are what keep her up at night, not the infinite possibilities of her future successes.

and that's also why she picked carmy.

because she was always going to pick the best.

she was always going to follow the career and moves of the standout in the industry.

of the person that made the best meal she's ever had.

so if he's anal retentive or jumpy or doesn't call about changing the structural elements of their restaurant while it's happening, she deals with it because she picked him.

she chose him. and then he chose her.

(and then she lightweight chose him again when she came back)

so that's why when they're talking he so often checks in by looking her in the face, scanning her expression. he instantly picks up on something being off or wrong or him being "shitty".

or why when they're under a damn table, despite being peeved or annoyed with his disappearing acts, she lets out the most vulnerable, softest admissions about the perceived necessity of her contribution and future failure.

or why he responds with "i couldn't do it without you" so instantly, so rapidly, it's like it's etched in him. that's the quickest response he'd given to anything she said to him the entire season, she barely got the words fully out before he was verbally soothing her.

then he STAMPS this by saying "i wouldn't WANT to do this without you."

there was such an unexpectedly, viscerally aching quality to that exchange.

it's honestly searing.

i'm sorry are these wedding vows or are we talking about opening a damn restaurant?

or the way he says "you love taking care of people" to her when she talks about making sugar food.

that's also a stellar mirrored moment because i've seen a few people, i believe @eatandsleepwell is one, talk a lot about how that's one of carmy's main drivers and internal tenants.

they see so much of themselves in each other.

the buried parts, the unknown parts, the odd parts.

the parts they wanna work on. the parts they wanna exalt.

they are so similar. they are also quite different.

they have reflected one another in the narrative since s1 ep1.

they exist so flawlessly within the others interstices.

she wordlessly hands him pepto for his stomach.

he tells her he won't let her fail.

the pulsing undercurrent of sydney and carmy is pretty fucking palpable.

there's people on social media who weren't convinced or didn't ship them last season that have suddenly completely seen the vision.

whether the writers actually go there or not remains to be seen.

i don't necessarily trust that they will or won't to be honest because i know there are so many moving pieces and variables and factors.

ships get bypassed and messed up all the time.

i don't watch any shows for ship guarantees but i know how writer's rooms work.

i'd venture to bet that at least 1/3 of that room DOES have an interest in seeing something happen between carmy and sydney, (maybe even 1/2).

or at the very least the option to have it explored.

different people write different episodes, the showrunner/creator can scratch or add whatever.

scripts are TIRELESSLY edited and shortened.

yet there is alot that makes the final cut that points to the potent carmy and sydney marrow.

him giving her the captain reigns before they served for the first time, her saying 'let it rip'.

to me, sydney walked into that failing sandwich shop with a mission that day, they locked eyes and immediately fused.

something happened to the both of them in that moment and they largely don't even realize or can adequately reckon with its magnitude yet.

[siolixz]

~Veils of Crimson~

Chapter 3

<chapter2> <chapter1> <chapter 4> <chapter 5: part 1>

Pairings: oz cobb x reader (Carmine Falcone's daughter)

Chapter three is here!! We got Al's ya-know-what in this one and maybe a more intimate moment with our fav big scary man, too :)All jokes aside, from here on, the chapters overall are gonna get much darker, that's what I initially wanted with this story-I don't know yet if reader is gonna be happy in the end, I mean, I paired her up with the guy that killed her brother, tried to light her dad up in front of the whole police department and we still have yet to see what he's gonna do with Sofia. Also, there will be no “cat fight” or big interaction between reader and Eve, I hate that shit, lets say Oz stopped sleeping with her some time before reader comes back home,mkay?Remember we are seeing this through the eyes of the reader, shes infatuated with him and naive in a way. Please take everything I wrote and I'm gonna write with a grain of salt, this is fiction and Oz "The Penguin" Cobb ain't a nice guy and that's okay, I don't wanna change him-I wanna make him worse!

Again, I took my inspo from Driving Miss Falcone by (https://www.tumblr.com/genevievedarcygranger here on tumblr), check out the story if you can.

Enjoy, give feeback if u want xoxo.

Warnings: mature language, smut (not in this chapter sorry AGAIN next chapter i pinky swear), general horniness.

“You’re just as gorgeous as I remember.”

It felt nice hearing him say that. You hoped that the nerves you felt inside didn’t show up on your face as well.

“Nice car, Oz.” You simply couldn’t help yourself from mentioning that. “Purple’s a nice color.”

He raised an eyebrow and, while still smiling, said, “Well technically it's plum- but I know, right?”

“We three of us have a lot of catching up to do. Why don’t we go for dinner?” your sister interjected.

Oz tore his eyes off of you when hearing her. “Sure, we cou—”

“How about right now?”

Once seated at the restaurant and after ordering some food, Sofia was the first to break the awkward silence.

“Are you nervous, Oz? I would hate for you to be nervous with me. ‘Cause despite what you might think, I don’t blame you.” Okay, here she goes. “I mean if you haven’t gone to my father.”

Oz started fiddling around, smoothing out the tablecloth. “He left you no choice.”

When the food arrived, Sofia had no qualms digging in like a neanderthal, so Oz and you chatted about the last few years, like nothing changed. Except, things did change. Oz ran the Iceberg Lounge; he served as your father’s lieutenant of sorts, and from what you understood, he also ran the drops operation. He asked you about life in Europe and if you missed it. You told him that nothing compares to Gotham.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one, kid.” You don’t know why, but Oz seemed really lost in thought after that comment. He seemingly stopped saying anything and just looked at you.

“I’m so sorry to interrupt this little love affair you guys got going on, but I would also like to ask Oz a few things.” Sofia was done eating and now was on her second martini. Great, she's going to dig into him now.

“Alberto told me he was going to your club last night to get to our father’s loft. I—well, we—” she gestured toward you, “wanted to join, but he has been so protective over us lately that he didn’t want us leaving the house. It was all part of this plan; it was our shared secret. But today I hear you talk about revolutionizing the drug business.” Sofia was right to mention that. How on earth did he know?

“How do you know about his plan?” she continued. “And why on earth would you pitch it as your own? You know, it’s so brazen that you either have to be blindingly stupid or wildly confident that he isn't coming back to reclaim it. So I ask you again: do you know where our brother is?” she asked.

“Listen, Sofia—” Oz glanced at you. “You two are the surprise here.”

“Excuse me?”

“Al never told me you guys were back or that you were in on this thing with us.” All right, so that explains things. “You know me and my stupid mouth. Ya know, I screwed up. Maybe you could put in a good word. I—I don’t wanna put that on you, but he was so passionate about his plan, I thought there was no reason not to move forward, just because he is on another bender, you know the shipment arrives in a few days, right?”

Bender? What was Oz talking about?

“Bender? What do you mean, a bender?” you interrupted.

Oz moved his eyes toward you and said, “Al’s an addict, sweetheart.” You could see him trying to break this news as softly as he could. “He’s got a penchant for drops.” He looked at your sister again. “And booze and gambling, and I’m pretty sure he’s got a sex thing too-so yeah- but look, this isn’t the first time he has gone AWOL. He always comes back.” Oz continued, “And if he was at my club last night—I wouldn’t know. I was actually drowning my sorrows with my lady friend last night, Eve.”

So Oz has a girlfriend. That’s interesting.

“But if it makes you feel better, we can go there right now, scour the joint—I doubt anything is gonna turn up, but it’s worth a shot, whatever will put minds at ease.”

“You know what? You’re right. I think we are both just being crazy. He’s probably gonna turn up. Let's stay in and enjoy our meal.” your sister said.

As you were all ready to leave, you couldn’t help but feel jealous. Eve—what a lucky lady. You wondered what she probably does for a living—you could certainly find out. It’s been five years, you know, expecting anyone to stay celibate in order to wait for you, if you even arrived at all, was unnatural.

After your sister put on her coat, she got on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. She whispered something in his ear you had no idea what, but he looked once again frustrated, lost in thought. Maybe Oz was lying. Maybe not. She immediately disappeared outside, leaving you all alone with him. If she kissed his cheek, now you gotta do that too. Thanks, Sofia.

He winked at you and said, “Next dinner’s on me, all right, doll? You still owe me one after you left me hanging.” He smiled, flashing those gold teeth of his.

Raising your eyebrows, you asked him, “You remember?”

“Of course I do.”

“All right, Oz, you got a deal.” You smiled and raised yourself up to hug him properly. He was one big man. He wrapped his big arms around you and you felt so warm. Being this close to him, smelling him and holding him like this felt almost euphoric. “I missed you,” you said, your voice low enough so that only he could hear. You didn’t want any prying ears to run to the press, even if you did know they would after seeing you and Sofia back in Gotham at a very expensive restaurant.

He lowered his voice and told you, “Missed you too, doll.”

The road home was very quiet. Sofia was too busy looking things up on her phone. Every once in a while, you would mention something, like the floods or the spike in crime ever since your dad passed. You say “passed” so you don’t have to say, “he was shot dead by a crazy maniac while being arrested with the literal entire police department next to him.” Life feels so weird lately, like a dream. With your dad being gone, Al has to step up.

Now, the thing about being a mob boss was that once you die, there is always gonna be a power vacuum. Like sharks, all your enemies and friends are gonna push themselves so they can get to the top; best man will win.

Once in a while, she would acknowledge you with a nod or a tiny smile, but nothing compared to the hour-long conversations you guys used to have. You knew she was angry at Oz, at your family for writing all those letters that solidified her reason to stay there—anyone would be. Arkham was a jungle; it was eat or be eaten—but this quest for vengeance, this anger inside of her, was going to eat her alive. You knew that. Alberto told you all about her fears and how she felt.

Alberto, God, you hoped he was okay. You loved your brother; he was rash and careless, quick to anger and naive in his arrogance—but he was still your brother. He should be running the show; he deserved it.

As you looked outside, you saw some of the destruction that those floods brought. Maybe you and your sister could help make things right for some of these people; maybe you could redirect a percentage of the money toward helping them rebuild Gotham, rebuild the Falcone’s reputation.

She declined your request. Of course she did; why would we help them? “We have so many problems on our back right now,” she said, and while true, you also heard what Oz said. He wouldn’t lie to you or your sister like that, right?

As the hours passed, Sofia became more and more restless. She HAD to find him. You too were worried sick. You wanted to go with her to search the Iceberg Lounge, but she said it’s more important for you to stay, so nothing bad happens to you too. All right, you stayed.

In the meantime, you talked to Viti and Milos. Maybe you could help the family’s reputation. They looked at you like you told them you were gonna start stripping. So you did what you could and sold some of your old clothes, jewels, and shoes that day. You knew just the guy that would buy your stuff; he was surprised to see you but happy. Unlike the people that saw your sister again, you were happy—so very happy. All that money went to a good cause, you could finally appear on the news for a good thing and you weren’t gonna wear some of those old things anyway. As you texted your aunt, when you arrived back home; a car sped past you and crashed into the fountain.

What the hell?

Sofia exited the greenhouse, dressed in all black, like she was going to a funeral. You yelled out her name, scared that a bomb would go off when she got close to the car. Everyone else exited the house- armed guards ready for whatever the fuck that noise was.

The door to the driver's seat was open, and a brick was placed on the gas pedal. You weren’t close enough to see what she was looking at when she opened the trunk; you only read the writing on top: ‘PAYBACK.’

What the fuck was this?

The scream your sister let out was unlike anything you ever heard, and then you knew.

Your brother was dead.

Not long after the discovery of his body you learned who could be responsible for it. Your brother was murdered by the only people crazy or powerful enough to go after the Falcone family—the Maronis.

If Sal Maroni had the sort of power to do something like that while in jail, what else was he capable of? What was his next step? Was he going to go after your sister and then you?

You had to push those thoughts aside. The news of your brother's murder was blasted on every news outlet in the city, and you were constantly reminded of how dangerous this life, that you didn’t even choose—neither you nor your siblings—truly was. You needed to be protected.

A man like Carmine Falcone struck fear in the hearts of his enemies and, well, he struck fear in the hearts of everybody—no one dared to touch you or even look at you weird or disrespectfully.

You knew that Sofia was never going to be allowed to be in charge—she was a woman AND a certified crazy woman at that—so Viti called your uncle Luca to come over and step up as the boss. Another slap directed toward your sister.

As she explained to you, the family’s operation of Drops was being moved. You were losing a lot of profit with those terrible floods and all.

Viti and Milos didn’t even care about the “family” or your guys’ reputation; they couldn’t care less about your sister or you. The more quiet you were, the better.

Well, Sofia wasn’t like that—in times like these, most especially in times like these, you needed all hands on deck.

Every day you checked the news. First thing in the morning, a small part of you hoped you would see your brother there, with the news that he was alive after all—that everything was just a dream. His funeral was tomorrow, and you didn’t even know if you had the strength to get up, get dressed, do your makeup, and then be surrounded by like a hundred people.

As you lay in bed, texting your aunt, filling her in with all the information you could remember about your current situation, you heard cars screech in front of the mansion. A shiver ran up your spine; you stopped dead from texting and tried to listen to what was happening downstairs. You were terrified—were these the Maronis? Coming to kill all of you?

When you heard all the familiar voices of your armed guards in the house, you were relieved but still worried. You ran out of your room as quickly as your slippers allowed.

You saw  Oz come inside, brows furrowed, hot and heavy and all bloodied, you ran to him.

“Oz! Are you okay? What—what happened?” you asked.

“Yeah—yeah I’m okay, those sons of bitches caught—” he started, but Viti interrupted him.

“OZ! Come inside, tell us what happened, now.”

He looked at you apologetically, but you told him to go.

While Oz was yelling inside, you were listening to Castillo’s retelling of what happened: the Maronis attacked the shipment, so the situation was clear—this was an all-out gang war.

Not long after, your sister came home as well. You exchanged quick hellos, but she bolted into the meeting room, conveniently leaving the door slightly ajar—an invitation. Get your ass inside; Dad’s dead, everything has gone to shit, and you’re not 19 anymore.

You followed her in, touching her side affectionately as you passed to let her know you were there for her. Oz was still yelling about how he saved the men there, and Viti was very fucking pissed. You leaned back against the table overlooking the men sitting there. It felt like an episode of a reality show.

“Is that all you care about? The product? The money we lost?” Sofia said, smoking.

Oz glanced at you and gave you a quick smile.

“We can get more money, gentlemen. I think you’re missing the point here—the Maronis humiliated our family. They took my brother and shoved his body in the trunk of a car—like he was a piece of trash.” Ugh, maybe you should’ve just gone to your room. “He deserves justice.”

“Look, Sofia, we all cared for Alberto—” Milos started.

“Well, I doubt that, Milos. I really do. Justice is what matters, and that is what my brother, your nephew, deserves,” she said, pointing at your uncle, Luca.

“WHY AREN’T HIS KILLERS STRUNG UP ACROSS THE CITY?!” she shouted. Okay, maybe that was a bit much, you thought. Killing them would be enough, geez.

“When the time is right, the Maronis will pay,” Johnny said.

“Well, if they knew our route, they weren’t working alone. There must be someone on the inside” Everyone turned towards you and the tension in the room was palpable. " helping them—someone in our own family.”

“How dare you two come in here, like you mean something,” Viti sneered, God you hated this asshole. “You don’t call the shots around here—”

“Johnny!” your uncle stopped him from insulting you. “Neither do you. And those are my nieces you’re talking to. Show them some fucking respect! " Luca said. Viti called both your names and apologized, but you could see the insincerity behind his eyes, almost like he was mocking you with the way he apologized.

Luca instructed everyone on what they had to do, and the meeting broke up-he called it a night.

“Do you need anything from me, boss?” Oz asked.

“You’ve done enough,” Luca replied, his voice firm.

As everyone started to leave, you told Oz the hour of the funeral tomorrow. He urged you to get some rest and promised he would see you then.

On your way upstairs, you heard him stop Sofia. You didn’t catch much of their conversation, just something about being desperate.

The next day, at the funeral, the press, the photographs, the protests—it was all too much. You couldn’t find Oz either and you wanted to get home so bad. You quickly went to the bathroom to gather yourself, and when you came back, you spotted him.

“Hey. I didn't see you in there. I thought you didn’t come,” you said, relief washing over you.

“You looked for me?” he asked, surprise in his voice.

“Yes, of course. You promised,” you replied, stepping closer. The suit he wore reminded you of a simpler time; when he was just your driver.

“How are you holding up, kid?” he asked, his empathy evident.

“I’m okay, for the most part. He shouldn’t have gone the way he did. The Maronis will pay, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, they will. I promise.” Standing with him, overlooking the crowd below, you felt a mix of despair and hope. “You know, I’m very well aware that the mob needs a strong hand—an iron fist—to lead it. But an iron fist can be gentle too. It all depends on who has it.”

There was a pause as he took in your words. He nodded, took a deep breath, and continued, “You know, we didn’t have a service for my brothers.” You felt a pang of sorrow for him, knowing how deeply the loss affected him. He went on about his mother, how grief consumed her, how one day-all of a sudden- she got out of bed, told him to get ready and they went dancing to lift her spirits. You knew his brothers were dead and his mom too, but he nevet told you this story.

He looked into your eyes, then at your lips, then back into your eyes. Did he want to kiss you? Oh no, was your lipstick smeared?

“Do you want to go with me to listen to some music and eat some good food one of these days? You promised.” he asked, and excitement bubbled inside you.

“What about Eve, or whatever her name was.” You asked.

He was surprised by your question but he nevertheless told you “Theres all sorts of friends out there, no?” Ok, whatever that means.

"Yeah-sure I'll go. You kept your promise, I'll keep mine, plus I owe you." you said, trying to hide your enthusiasm.

"I'll have my driver-" he started

“You have a driver?” you didn't mean it to sound so stuck up, shit.

“Yeah, I do. What? You think a club owner doesn’t have one?” Oz joked, you were so glad he wasn't bothered by that comment, maybe he knew you didn't mean it like that.

For the first time in a week, you felt genuinely excited about something.

As the funeral dragged on, your mind wandered to what you would wear. You settled on a stunning Yves Saint Laurent dress from the '90s—black velvet, understated yet elegant. You added Oz’s gift from long ago as your necklace and a pair of Tiffany earrings to complete the look. To avoid drawing attention, you had your driver take you to the restaurant instead of arriving together.

When you arrived, Oz was already seated. As soon as he noticed you, he gave a low whistle and flashed that dazzling smile of his. You walked over, and with your heels clicking on the floor, you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek. God, he smelled amazing.

You couldn’t help but notice the stares from the other patrons. A beautiful woman smiling ear to ear with the scariest man they’d ever seen—it was a spectacle.

As Oz took your jacket and helped you get seated, you soaked in the atmosphere of the restaurant. It was bustling but cozy, with soft lighting and a stage at the center where musicians were preparing to play.

“You look gorgeous, I mean, wow,” Oz said, his gaze lingering on you, especially your breasts "Nice necklace you got."

“Well thank you! You don’t look too bad yourself. Nice seat you picked out; we can see everything from here,” you replied, smiling at him

“Yeah, I know the owner- he made us a reservation yesterday. This place is a big deal, ya know?”

“I figured-there's a lot of people-all looking at us.” You wondered if they recognized you.

He chuckled to himself “Ha, trust me doll they are sure as shit all looking at you.”

Your waiter came by and by the time the performance started you already drank half the wine they poured for you. 

The songs were amazing, the food great, the performance was amazing-it was loud, but not too loud so you couldn’t hear each other speak- and the company, whew, the company, was out of this world.

You shared with Oz memories from France and you guys reminisced about the sort of bullshit you used to be up to, from sneaking out to maxing out one of your dad’s credit cards. You don’t remember the last time you laughed this hard.

“Oh this is one of my favorite songs.” Oz said and you quieted down to listen to the music, as he looked at the performance, you had some time to look at him in this light.

You thought he was one of the most handsome men you ever saw in your life, the scar that ran up from his top lip to his cheekbones, gave him this look about him -mysterious and dangerous- he could kill someone in cold blood and then be the sweetest man in the whole world-I mean, what's there not to like?

His brown eyes had such a gorgeous shine. Sure, his hair was thinning at the top and no one in a million years would expect a girl your age and status to be with someone like him. But there was something more about Oz, this charisma he had, he could talk his way out of anything, you wondered what else he could do with that tongue.

The wine is starting to speak now, maybe regular you as well.

He noticed your wine glass being empty and he grabbed the bottle from the table and filled it up again. 

“Thank you.” you giggled. God you wanted him to kiss you. 

He smiled at you. 

“You wanna dance?” he said, gesturing with his head towards the dance floor in the middle of the room, 5 couples were already dancing together and even if you had two left feet, slow dancing was another thing, he leads, you follow-you were way more comfortable with that.

You didn’t answer him, you just got up and followed him to the dance floor. 

Now everyone has a reason to stare at you. 

“How do you feel? Better?” he asked. You were so close to him, you could stretch your neck and kiss him 

“Yeah, I do feel better. Thank you.. for this.” you answered, this wine man, you don’t know what they put in it but it's good. 

The pause that followed wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable, you were both staring at each other and Oz broke the silence

“You know” he started chuckling to himself more like “I think you might be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.” 

“Yeah right” 

You didn’t even notice when you got so close to his face or when his lips pressed against yours, all you knew your stomach was doing jumping jacks and that you wanted to break out in a smile-which you did. 

It was a very sweet kiss, but rudely interrupted by Oz whispering in your face 

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

This time you kissed him, the scar on his lip felt so peculiar, but nice too.

After your little make out sesh on the dance floor the music stopped and you were forced to do the walk of shame back to your seats. Some of the older people there gave you some dirty looks, like-couldn't you two get a room- maybe it was that, maybe they thought it was wrong to be kissing a much older man-who was clearly- a gangster.

After you two got to your seats, you checked your phone and your smile and good disposition disappeared immediately when you finally saw that you had around 15 missed calls and about 10 messages from Sofia-the last one reading:

“WHERE ARE YOU?”

Author's note: These past few days I've been writing like crazy. It feels nice to be passionate about things. Thank you for reading. Next chapter is gonna be up tmrw, probs.

[catwhispers0]

✧༝┉˚*❋ Silly Pickup Lines ❋*˚┉༝✧

Featuring - 

Cyno, Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, Zhongli, Xiao, Scaramouche, Neuvillette, Wriothesley

gn reader - pronouns: you/your

Tw and authors note - might be a lil suggestive for some lines, i dont play genshin 😭😭 so if any of the characters are kinda goofy its cause im too poor for that game, ooc, bad grammar 😬 VERY LIGHTLY EDITED, annoying reader lol

minors shoo shoo as always

✧༝┉˚*❋ Cyno ❋*˚┉༝✧

“do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?”

finally, its my time to shine

“do you have a bandaid? because i scraped my knee falling for you.”

“are you a time traveler? because i see you in my future.”

“if we were socks, we would make a great pair.”

if anyone were nearby, they would be gone now. you would surely attract a crowd of people who appreciated the little pickup line competition more, if you werent in the middle of a library. 

“are you a loan? because youve got my interest.”

“if you were a vegetable, youd be a cute-cumber.”

that was the breaking point of the poor librarian, who hoped you two would just stop on your own. but nothing could stop you before you could fluster cyno, and he could go all day and night before he would fluster you. 

so, yea, yall got kicked out of the library, but at what cost? honestly, yall never stopped throwing terrible pickups at each other, much to the pain and disappointment of anyone around you (cough tighnari cough).

but depending on your strength against cynos charms, you may last either forever, or give cyno a new hobby of flustering you whenever and wherever he could.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Al Haitham ❋*˚┉༝✧

“do you have a name, or can i just call you mine?”

Al haitham just looked up from his book, confused. 

“i have a name, did you really forget it?”

well this was odd, he thought you were smarter than this. forgetting his name, really?? of all the things you could forget, his name was one of the most, no, THE most offensive one. 

maybe you tripped and hit your head on the way in. he didnt think you were the smartest person in sumeru, but surely you werent stupid enough to forget the scribes name. 

“no, i know your name, but can i call you mine?”

he somehow found a way to look even more confused. ‘can i call you mine’ who is ‘mine’?? oh. wait. mine!! 

by the time he finally realized, you walked away with a cheeky grin. he was left in the dust, flustered. and to think he thought you were dumb. 

now, how was he going to work for the rest of the day?

✧༝┉˚*❋ Tighnari ❋*˚┉༝✧

“arent you tired of running through my mind all day?”

he put his head in his hands in defeat, dropping the papers he was working on. with his ears flat against his head, he groaned. 

“...are you ok nari?” 

“no.”

“...”

after a moment, he looked up at you. he had a disappointed, dead-panned expression. his ears were still flat and he just stared at you, ridiculing you in awkward silence. 

he thought he would only have to deal with one idiot in a life time. why were you so..? annoying? no, thats not it. alluring? maybe… he didnt understand how through all of the shenanigans you pull him through, all the terrible jokes and one liners, youve sill managed to capture his heart and let him keep you around. so yea, alluring.

“... do you wanna hear another one?”

*sigh* “sure, but only if its good.”

his reluctance was apparent in his voice, but the agreement was a good sign. 

you gave it a beat of time to dig through your head for a clever one that would sweep tighnari off his feet. 

“i think i need to see an optometrist, because i cant keep my eyes off of you~.”

“...”

“...” “get out.”

“...ok”

✧༝┉˚*❋ Kaveh ❋*˚┉༝✧

“i must be in a museum, because youre a work of art.”

The architect nearly chokes on his drink and spits it out. you scramble to help him out of concern though there was little you could do in the first place. 

so pat him on the back awkwardly as he endeavors his coughing fit. sometime through the hacking, you notice it has shifted to laughter. 

“what are you laughing about?? are you ok??”

“-yea, im fine, you are just too cute! you caught me off guard.” 

with this, he picked you cheek adoringly. you gave him an incredulous look, this man really choked on his drink and now he demeans you? absolutely not. 

you turn on your heel and walk away after giving him a look of a mix of disappointment and exasperation. 

he follows quickly after to try and pester you for the rest of the day on ‘how adorable you are’.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Zhongli ❋*˚┉༝✧

“are you a geo user, because you rock my world! *wink*”

a small smile and a giggle does little to hide his growing flush. he looks away for a moment, letting your words settle in the air. 

why did you have to be so cute? and you look at him expectantly - waiting for a reaction. you didnt think he would fall that easily, hm?

-though, he does appreciate a challenge. 

sure, hes heard plenty of one-liners in his time, most when and about his dragon or archon forms. but he didnt expect you to exchange one with him, he doesnt know what to do or how to feel. 

“you are something, my dear. are you hungry? its about time for my lunch break, i thought you wouldnt mind the offer, seeing as you seem to want to sweep me away so badly.”

“something?” 

what was that supposed to mean? a good something or a bad something? his reaction did little to answer, but you took him up on his offer. maybe tomorrow you would get him. 

gotta keep that old man on his toes afterall. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Xiao ❋*˚┉༝✧

“are you an adeptus, because youve reached a depth of my heart.”

at first, Xiao thought it was some adepti pun, but as the day went on, he wasnt so sure. 

it had become such an issue, the yaksha had began pacing around with his finger to his chin and a furrowed brow. 

he was overthinking it, he knew that, but he needed to know what it meant to be in a “depth of your heart”. did you mean it as friendly dialogue? or was there something more…? 

was this a sign? a hint? a clue? a puzzle? he didnt know. how could you do this to him, what is he supposed to make of this?

could you have put him in a depth of your heart that noone else was? Perhaps it was wishful thinking. archons, why were mortals so complicated?! 

by the time he had worked himself up to confront you about the issue that plagued his heart, the sun set and the stars had risen. 

‘maybe tomorrow then, ill let you rest for now.’ he thought as he watched you sleep peacefully, protected. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Scaramouche ❋*˚┉༝✧

“im not a photographer, but i can picture us together.”

*silence*

“scara?”

“no.”

“what?”

“no, you are not doing this.”

aaaand he walks away…

as much as you try to talk to him after that, he avoids you. it doesnt last long though, maybe 2-3 days. 

still, not very nice. you knew he wasnt the best person in the communication department, but wow.

anytime you tried to bring it up, he would shoot it down or avoid confrontation. 

how nice would it be if he would just tell you if he was uncomfortable with teasing like that? 

with all the teasing he makes you go through, you would think he could endure some himself. maybe he wasnt used to it though, or maybe you connection with him didnt abide by the rules of hypocracy. 

maybe you should shun him back? a taste of his own medicine. 

so thats how you ended up with indigo eyes piercing into you soul. as soon as you gave him any hint of a cold shoulder, his disappeared. 

hes a stubborn man, he wont just go talk to you like a normal person. and all this over a cheesy pickup line. 

its more than that though, the way he treats you is much more that what he can handle himself. be gentle on him, he doesnt know these things. 

he doesnt know this feeling that arises every time he looks at you, when you say his name in that pretty voice of yours, the faces and reactions you make that are too precious for anyone else to see. 

so when you hit him with a one-liner, maybe the feeling is too unbearable for the guy. 

go reassure him, he needs it. 

✧༝┉˚*❋ Neuvillette ❋*˚┉༝✧

“your lips look lonely, can mine keep them company?”

Neuvillette nearly dies on the spot. this is the most romantic gesture hes ever heard of - he loves poetry, you know.

“why of course, my love.”

okay

okay, you just kissed the chief justice of fontaine. wow wow wow cool cool okay dont freak out. 

his face is still so close to yours - hairs away. his eyes meet yours, full of love and adoration. 

his lips are still parted, you can feel his breath against your lips. 

they were soft and gentle. would he mind if you went in for another? surely not..?

and just amd you closed your eyes, they were startled open. a melusine opened the door and interrupted your moment. 

oh well, how could you be mad when the look neuvillette snuck you screamed 'meet me again and we can pick up where we left off'.

✧༝┉˚*❋ Wriothesley ❋*˚┉༝✧

“you should lock yourself up, ya know, stealing is prohibited. “

he plays along immediately, smiling, but doesnt lift his eyes from his paperwork. 

“and i am so very sorry for your lunch, perhaps you could let me go with a fine, my generous love?”

your lunch? oh, hes gonna pay for this! you didnt even know about it until now, too! 

“my lunch?! what did you do to it?!” 

he looks up finally. 

“you dont know? oh well never mind dont think about it, love. its for… the better…”

how mysterious. if you could deadpan him harder, you would. 

“...so, what else did i steal?”

the audacity.

“well if you have to know, it was going to be cute and romantic, i was going to say you stole my heart but you can just give it right back, along with your lunch.”

and you walk away, off to check where you put your food. 

some wishful thinking said that he was just joking for a bit, but knowing him, you cant always be sure…

---------

if u want any other characters, drop a request in my mail/ask box ❤️❤️

[youresodarkbabe]

down on all fours (90s au rockstar a. turner x reader)

smut.

warnings: overstimulation, praise, degradation (yes, both of them), aly has dacryphilia <3, dom!al, spit :)

word count: 2.1k

everyone thank @psychedelicrocker for telling me to write this instead of f1 alex again, also it's not v obviously 90s au whoopsies

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

alex was fucked.

he had been trying to write one simple song for hours now, and nothing seemed to stick. either a lyric would be too complex for the tune or he'd dumb it down too much. there really was no in between.

in his defense, though, he was freshly free from the harsh confines of a world tour and had lost all semblance of sanity.

he kept pacing around his office until he realized something. through all of the fans and drugs and groupies, he remembered one thing that was a constant.

you.

you met alex at the new jersey show he did with his band and he was intrigued, to say the least. he brought you backstage and had his way with you, sure, but he wanted more. he needed it, or rather, you.

he got you tickets to their next show and told you to come if you could, and you did. you thoroughly enjoyed the show, just as much as you enjoyed the way he destroyed your cunt before it and the way he fucked you til you cried after. the cycle repeated, they'd finish a show, he'd give you tickets to the next one.

the boys hadn't really tried forming connections with the girls they took back to their hotel rooms because to them, it was just a one time thing, they were high and their girl of the night would be starstruck and it was a fun way to unwind post-show. alex had the same mindset for years. until you. you ruined him completely. as much as he adored tearing you apart with his cock, he obsessed over the way you'd laugh breathlessly after a good fuck. he knew he was gone the moment you kissed him, the way your lips felt against his— soft, gentle, caring— it changed him.

the feelings alex had towards you could be described in many ways. an obsession, a need, a want, a love.

he couldn't care less. as long as he had you.

he crumpled up the messy, inked sheet of paper in his hand and tosses it into the trash and runs over to his untouched suitcase and digs through it until he finds the note you gave him at the last show he'd perform before moving to the european leg of the tour. the note had your phone number along with your address and the words 'don't forget me' written with a heart.

he realizes that you only lived a few minutes down the road. he decides to take the risk and punches your number into his landline and holds the receiver up to his ear. you take your time to pick up, but he let it go, it was half past two anyways.

"um, hello?" your voice called out, almost instantly making the hairs on the back of his neck stand and his cock harden.

"hey, doll. been missin' you. been missin' your cunt, to be real specific. come over, i need my muse back." his voice is as sharp as it had always been, hearing it sending you into a frenzy. you were well and truly speechless, and he knew.

"i'll see you here, bunny."

you were still half asleep but the familiar warmth of alex's voice woke you up and you instantly got on your feet and began running around your room, scrambling around for anything to make yourself look more presentable for alex.

you quickly try fixing the mess that your hair was and apply a quick swipe of the red lipstick of yours that alex adored so much.

you threw on the first things you could find and decided you'd rather walk to his instead of driving, because all the thoughts you were thinking would not lead to a safe drive.

you showed up wearing his band's shirt and a leather jacket with spikes around the neck that almost resembled a collar.

he has to take a second to take all of you in.

he pulls you in by your waist and shuts the door behind you and gives your lips a quick peck.

"i've missed you, doll." he murmurs against your lips, "you always were my favourite from the lot."

he kisses you again, deeper this time, less sweetness and more desperation. teeth clashed, his slight stubble scratching your face, adding to the stimulation and making you hum into the kiss.

alex slips his hands from your waist to your ass, cupping the flesh and massaging it, also pushing your hips into his waist and grinding his cock into you. he pulls away, breathless.

"you know the drill. everythin' off, except that jacket. i expect you on all fours by the time i get to my room."

you open your mouth to retort but decide against it and tiptoe past him and run up to his bedroom. you get undressed and forget to put the jacket back on.

alex, still downstairs, fixed himself a drink and almost finished half of it before he was upstairs. his cock throbbing at the sight.

you were on all fours on his cozy, pristine bed, your back arched so perfectly.

"where's the jacket, doll?"

"'m sorry, al, i forgot."

alex discards his clothes slowly, leaving himself in his boxers. he crawls onto the bed and kneels in between your legs, his hands running up and down your back, pressing it into more of an arch.

"it's alright, angel," he presses a kiss to your soaked pussy from behind, "next time, hm?"

you grind against his face, trying to tell him what you need without irritating him. you hear him swear at himself before his tongue delves into your core, lapping at anything he can get. his fingers come to your front and play with your clit as he devours your dripping cunt. you feel that knot in your stomach threatening to snap as he pulls away, whining at him stopping so suddenly.

"al, please, i'm good, i need you, please—"

you moan excessively loudly when he pushes two fingers into your cunt with no prior warning, feeling your eyes rolling back into your head as his fingers thrust in and out of you, curling and hitting every spot you needed him to get to.

"what did i tell you about doubting me, sweet girl?", he asks sweetly as he spreads his fingers as far apart as he can, watching your hole gape as you scream out his name.

"never doubt you, al, never ever doubting you," you trail off as he continues his relentless movements.

alex suddenly stops all his movements, taking his hands away from you, licking his fingers clean.

"taste as good as you did the first time, doll, fuck, you're takin' me back."

alex's mind flickered back to tour, how despite you both considering your interactions as a rockstar and one of his groupies, there was something different. it wasn't just sex, at least, not to him. he constantly fantasized about taking you out, buying you anything you ever wanted and more, treating you the way you deserved.

but he wasn't sure if he deserved you at all.

he saw himself as a pathetic excuse of a man who thrives on the validation of strangers and crumbles with the slightest criticism, but that also led to him imagining how you'd comfort him in these moments of devastation.

but that wasn't important to him now, he couldn't care less.

"you ready?", he asks, finally freeing his cock, pumping it slightly while watching his pre-cum spill onto your ass and then aligning it with your aching pussy, running his tip through your folds.

"mm, yes, please, fuck—"

alex slides into you before you can finish speaking, your words turning into a choked moan. alex doesn't even hesitate and begins thrusting as fast as he can, jaw hanging open as your cunt squeezes him. his writer's block disappears, everything does. you're all he saw at that point and he didn't mind it at all.

you almost scream his name as he fucks into you with no hesitation, going as fast as he can.

"just as good as i remembered baby, god," alex groans as he runs his hands up your sides, grabbing onto your hair and tugging it so he has your back pressed against his chest. you actually scream this time, the stinging feeling of his cock stretching your cunt and the pure euphoria of the act being almost too much to handle. you throw your head back to rest on his shoulder as he keeps fucking into you, one of his hands slipping to your clit, playing with it as he littered your neck with kisses.

"takin' me like a champ, doll, so so good. perfect lil toy, aren't you? fuckin' soaked too."

his fervent thrusts get slower and sloppier as you squeeze around him. "fuck, al, 'm gonna cum, please," you beg mindlessly as he brings his other hand up to wrap around your throat, squeezing slightly as he nips at a spot under your ear.

"hm, not yet."

you whine in response, your moans getting louder and louder by the second.

"good girl, keep waiting for me, perfect lil slut," alex mutters as he slows down slightly, leaving small kisses of appreciation on your cheek as tears well in your eyes. he notices this and you can feel him twitch inside you as you tighten around him once more, unable to hold back any longer.

you scream out his name as your back arches against his chest, one of your hands flying to grasp at the back of his hair, pulling as you shake and moan until your voice is completely hoarse.

alex stills after you stop shaking and gives you a few seconds to compose yourself.

"you enjoy that? filthy fuckin' whore."

he pulls out of you roughly and flips you onto your back, almost instantly pushing his cock back into your sore cunt.

tears stream down your face as he bottoms out, you're desperate for him to stop and give your ruined pussy a break but at the same time, you can't stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to get him even closer. you dig your nails into alex's back as he pounds into you relentlessly, the sting of your nails scratching along his back making him hiss and go even faster.

alex's hands push your legs even further apart and he lifts them up onto his shoulders, his eyes fixated on the way he could see the outline of his cock filling you up.

"fuck, doll, you're gonna let me fill you up, aren't you? you gonna take it for me, baby?"

alex moves your hair out of your face as you nod pathetically, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. he dips his head down to take your nipple into his mouth and slows his thrusts to synchronize with tongue swirling around it, humming softly. he pulls off and latches onto your neck, his teeth clamping down slightly as he picks up his pace again, making you see stars as he fucks his cum as deep into you as possible.

alex collapses onto your chest, breathing heavily. he waits for a while before pulling out and looking at your ruined cunt, smiling as he sees the mixture of your cum and his seeping out of you.

"perfect, bunny, so gorgeous."

two of his fingers circle your aching hole once more and he pushes them into you until they only part of them he can see are his knuckles. he scissors his fingers and spits directly into you, pulling his fingers back out only to scoop up everything and push it back into you, he keeps playing with you like this until he's satisfied enough. he pulls his fingers out and taps on your lips with them and you open your mouth, sucking on them until they're clean.

"good girl, you did so well for me tonight."

he presses a gentle kiss to the space between your tits and moves upwards, leaving a kiss on your collarbone, your jaw, your cheek and finally kissing your lips.

kissing you feels liberating to him, it doesn't feel forced or purely driven by his need to fuck you. but there is something wrong.

"we can't keep doing this."

alex rested his chin on your chest and looked up at you as he spoke.

"we need to do this the right way, doll. i wanna take you out, do all that shit. let me have you, princess, please."

you open your mouth to respond but your voice barely comes out which makes you him laugh as you hide your face in his shoulder. he soothingly rubs your stomach as the laughter dies out and the silence takes over the room, alex doesn't feel awkward the way he normally would and his heart only feels lighter as he sees you nod with that smile he'd grown to adore.

"can't fuckin' wait."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

this one's been in the drafts for ages im ngl

[prettyflyforawhitelie]

Hazbin Hotel Beach! Headcanons

Characters: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angel, Husk, Sir Pentious, Nifty, Lucifer, Adam, Cherri

A/N: Hey guys! I am just so ready for summer to come so I can relax on the beach… so i thought it would be fun to do some beach headcanons for our favorite sinners!

😈🗝️Charlie🗝️😈:

Definitely the one that organized this entire beach day.

Though this is supposed to encourage relaxation, she is sort of stressed making sure that everyone gets along. 

Very adamant that everyone wears their sunscreen.

Drags Vaggie into the water to play around and try to find fish.

Makes sure everything is as perfect as it can get. Snacks? Check. Tons of water and drinks? Check. Umbrellas and tents? Check. Speakers? You bet!

Once she tires herself out, she takes a very well-deserved nap in the sand.

🪽⚔️Vaggie⚔️🪽:

Spend the trip making sure that Charlie finally gets a day to relax and not worry so much.

The second anyone tries to splash her or throw sand at her, a full blown beach battle ensues.

Will definitely be the one to dig holes in the sand and see how deep she can make it.

Was planning on relaxing and sunbathing, but gave in to Charlie's begging to go swimming (and actually enjoyed it a lot).

The second Charlie takes a nap, Vaggie will guard her to make sure that nobody disturbs her needed sleep. 

Makes sure to put more sunscreen on Charlie while she’s asleep so she won’t get burned.

🦌📻Alastor📻🦌:

This man is allergic to the sun.

Like, he’s covered from head to toe in sunscreen, wearing far too much clothing given the fact that he’s at the beach, and hides in a beach tent for the entirety of the day. 

Angel thought it would be funny to toss some sand into his tent until Alastor sent one of his shadows after him and he ran away screaming.

Like… Why did he agree to come??

He does enjoy listening to some of the music that Charlie plays until he realizes that it’s coming from a phone and not a radio (Al, who the fuck brings a radio to the beach?).

The only person that he lets come into his tent is Niffty, because she just over exhausts herself and takes a nap in the shade.

🕷️💖Angel Dust💖🕷️:

Definitely the life of the party.

Is wearing the most stylish bikini and the cuntiest sunglasses, just a total beach diva.

Though Charlie insisted that the only drinks allowed were water and soda, Angel manages to sneak a couple bottles of Beelzejuice so he and Husk can actually have some fun.  

Builds sand castles with Cherri Bomb, gets extremely upset if somebody messes it up.

Absolutely demolishes the competition in a game of beach volleyball (Having 6 arms comes in handy). 

Also wins any sort of swimming contest that Vaggie challenges him to (Again, 6 arms really gives you an advantage).

Definitely sees some cute guys and fake-flirts with them to get Husk’s attention.

♥️🥃Husk🥃♥️:

He’s a cat demon for a reason, any time Angel tries to drag him into the water, the hairs on his back rise and he hisses in disdain. 

The group eventually gives up on trying to get him to swim, letting him relax in the sand instead.

Drinks almost all of Angel's alcohol stash and passes out in the sand, curled into a purring ball, wings protecting him from being burned.

Angel takes a picture of him like this, and when he later finds it in Angel’s room he threatens to kill him if he doesn't immediately get rid of it (secretly thinks it's sweet that angel cares enough to hang a photo of him in his room.)

After much begging, he agrees to play beach volleyball with Angel, Cherri, and Vaggie. He absolutely sucks and gets pissed if anybody makes fun of him for it (except for Angel. He’ll allow it).

Ends up carrying most of the heavy stuff after they decide to leave.

🐍⚙️Sir Pentious⚙️🐍:

Decides to bring his Egg Bois, but ends up worried that they’ll literally cook the whole time so he makes a little hole for them in the sand to cool off. 

“Uhh.. Miss Cherri, would you like to build a sandcastle with me?” “Why? I thought we were mortal enemies, old man!” “Uh.. ummm… because I’m asking EVERYONE to build a sandcastle with me…!”

Hangs out in the water the whole time because it’s much easier to maneuver in water than on sand as a snake. 

Built a machine specifically made to drill holes underground, somehow ends up making an entire tunnel system under the sand. This eventually leads to Vaggie walking on a particularly weak spot on the sand and literally falling into the caved-in tunnel. She was pissed off, to say the least, and banned the use of any “inventions” for the rest of the day.

Really wants to impress Cherri and join in on her volleyball game, but is way too shy. He’ll just cheer her on and admire her from the sidelines.

Loves napping in the sun -  being at the beach is like laying under one big heat lamp, so his cold-blooded self delights in it.

🪳🪡Niffty🪡🪳:

Because there are no bugs for her to kill, she will literally hunt hermit crabs for sport. It’s actually horrifying. 

Sir Pentious soon regrets building the whole tunnel system thing because Niffty starts crawling around in it and jumpscaring people at random. 

Somebody has to have their eye on her the entire time, or she will disappear without a trace and just - become one with the crabs?

Eventually tires herself out and takes a nap in Alastor’s tent (Much to everyone’s relief).

Definitely brings up the idea of going out to get a treat after, like ice cream or snow cones, which surprisingly everyone agrees with. 

Ends up sneaking a few small animals back with her to the hotel.

🍒💣Cherri Bomb💣🍒:

Thought it was lame when Charlie insisted on a “sin-free” trip, but had a little hope when Angel told her about the drinks he snuck in. Got extra pissed when she found Husk passed out with all of the bottles empty.

Was the one who initiated all of the athletic games, she just needs an outlet to blow some steam off.

When she’s not playing in the sun, she lays on her towel and makes designs on herself using sunscreen so she can have some cute marks after she’s done tanning. 

Thought it was adorable that Sir Pentious set up his towel and things suspiciously close to her because it was “the only spot where the sun coated him evenly” (Like what? Dude could not be more obvious.)

Brought a surfboard because she used to love surfing before she died and tries to teach anybody who’s willing to learn. 

Sets off one of her bombs underwater to create the biggest wave anybody’s ever seen (it ends up soaking everybody else, and she has to make it up to them by covering the ice cream bill later).

🐣👹Lucifer👹🐣:

Only came because Charlie insisted that it would be a good father-daughter bonding experience.

Kind of puts everyone on their toes - can they even have fun with the king of Hell watching their every move? (This helps Charlie prolong her nap - nobody wants to joke around or mess with her in front of her dad).

Tensions are high until he joins the volleyball game and shows everyone that yes, the king of Hell can be fun too.

Everyone relaxes after this, but they relax more when Lucifer shyly gives each of them a rubber duck that looks just like them. When Charlie asked him about this, he replied “I guess if they’re your friends, they should be my friends too.”

Has a huge rubber duck inflatable pool float that he brings to float around on.

Claims that he doesn’t like going to the beach, but the matching swim trunks and Hawaiian shirt that he just happened to have in his closet says differently.

🎸👼Adam👼🎸:

Has the original dad bod and will 100% flaunt it and talk about how sexy he is (nobody is listening.)

Wasn’t actually even invited, but he ended up seeing the rest of them there and hoped that he could make them miserable if he hung out just close enough to them.

Steals Cherri’s surfboard and brags about how he’s about to demolish the waves, but absolutely eats shit and will never hear the end of it.

Doesn’t realize Lucifer is there until he sees him glaring at him from a nearby tent and gets scared shitless.

Will deny it if anybody asks, but he’s secretly looking for the perfect seashell to bring back to Heaven and surprise Lute with. 

Everyone genuinely celebrates when he gets bored and finally decides to leave (cue that one duck meme “ADAM!”) 💀

[drabblesandimagines]

Bold

Joshua Rosfield x female reader, fluff Commissioned piece, 2,820 words - thank you to the commissioner for commissioning me, and for allowing me to share on here too! x

The Imperial soldier squeezes your cheeks so hard between armour-clad thumb and forefinger that it’ll leave bruises, digging into your jaw to direct your half-lidded gaze at him. You’d been staring in the corner when he’d come in – head pounding, shivering one minute and sweltering the next, barely reacting until he’d grabbed hold of you. You’ve lost count of how many days you’ve now been shackled in this damp, dark and cold cell awaiting punishment, how many hours it’s been since you’ve had anything to eat or drink.

“We are gonna make a fine example out of you in the morning, my lady.” He snarls out the title with distaste. “Filthy Branded sympathizer, hm? Well, you’ll be pleased to hear if you love them so much, you can die with them.”

He shoves your head against the wall and gets to his feet. You don’t say anything in retaliation – don’t have the strength - but hear him leave the cell, locking the door behind him, as always. This is it, then. A public execution is how you will meet your fate, alongside some poor Bearers. It used to be rare that Bearers be executed, too much of a valuable resource for the Empire, but they seem to be growing keener on it ever since the Mothercrystals began to fall.

Was it really so wrong what you’d been doing - giving Bearers a warm bed and a hot meal when their days were so already so cruelly numbered? You owed a Bearer your life, after all. In those days after the fall of Phoenix Gate, they had helped you escape out of Rosalie before the Iron Blood and Empire could descend.

How life had changed since that moment.

You curl up on the floor, shackles clanking against the concrete as you move, and close your eyes, hoping that your last night of dreams will be of happier times.

--

Rosalie, Capital of Rosaria, Year 860

It had been easy enough slipping in to the banquet hall. By this point of the wedding feast, everyone was far too merry on wine and ale to pay any mind to the girl who followed in the footsteps of a couple of Shields, just relieved from their duty.

You scanned the high table for your target, fidgeting with the silver pendant around your neck – a nervous habit your mother scolded you for constantly, “Ladies do not fidget” ­-and smiled as you saw Joshua sat in one of the high-backed chairs, alone, poking at something on his dinner plate with a sour look on his face.

He didn’t enjoy these functions - to have the Phoenix attend such an event was seen as a blessing and honour upon the newlyweds. Elwin was away with the war effort, his usual chair empty as a sign of respect, but Anabella had abandoned her younger son’s side for once, conversing with some of the Imperial noblemen who had travelled to the duchy especially for the celebrations.

You hurry between tables and guests, taking cover, until you reach the end of the high table and duck under the table cloth to crawl on your hands and knees to below where Joshua is sitting. You’re thankful you’re dressed in navy this evening - your governess would scold you rotten if you came home with stains again.

“Psst!” You tug at the hem of his robes sharply, causing him to look down in shock. Joshua’s widen in surprise before a shy smile develops. He looks around the room to make sure no attention is on him at that moment and slides down off his chair to join you on the floor.

“What are you doing here?”

 You grin, proud of yourself. “My governess thinks I am practicing needlework with Lady Jill, so I thought I’d see if you were need in company.”

“You snuck in!” Joshua gasps in realization. You’ve always been more adventurous, more bold than him, though it was obviously much harder when he was under his mother’s watch.

“Mm. I walked in right behind the Shields, if you would believe it. They didn’t even see me.” You’re almost giddy. “Now, have you managed to have any fun at all?”

He pouts, fiddling with the hem of his robe. “Not really. They had cake, but Mother said I couldn’t until I had eaten everything on my plate.”

“Let me guess – carrots?”

He gives a curt nod.

You roll your eyes, he’s always been particularly averse to the vegetable. “Wait a moment.” You crawl out from your hiding place, heading towards an abandoned table – the dancing had started in earnest now – and swiped a piece of untouched cake from a plate, balancing it in your palm as you hurry back to your hiding place.

“Here,” you break apart the delicate sponge with your fingers, offering him half – the bigger half – and smile. “Let’s share a piece.”

Joshua beams, accepting the offering and raising it up to his lips to take a delicate bite. It’s delicious and so sugary sweet, topped with icing - Mother is always forcing him to eat things she deems good and nutritious for him to aid with his ill health.

The two of you eat your cake in silence as you peek out under the table cloth, watching the ladies’ skirts twirl across the dance floor as the festivities continue.

“What are they doing out there now?”

“Dancing.” You reply, almost wistfully.

“Do you…” he hesitates, brushes the crumbs off his hands, “Do you wish to dance?”

“My governess says I have two left feet,” you lament, dropping the cloth to turn back to him, fiddling with your necklace once more.

“That is untrue”, Joshua protests. “I saw you dance at the First Shield celebrations – you were graceful. Mother even agreed.”

“No,” you grow a little bashful then, shy of compliments. “Plus, that wasn’t proper dancing, that was-“

A sword pokes cautiously through the table cloth then, making the two of you jump.

“Well, well, what’s this - an intruder in the Great Hall?” Your heart skips a beat at being caught, watching as the sword carefully lifts up the cloth and Clive pops his head through, a curious smile on his face in a crouched position as he takes in the two of you.

“My lady, your governess is causing quite the commotion in search of you. She appears to be under the impression that you were practicing your needlework with Jill.”

“Ah...”

“However, Jill informed her that you had been, but had just headed homewards prior to her arrival. You may wish to head back before she finds you are, in fact, not.”

“Thank you, my lord. Please pass on my thanks to Lady Jill too.” You bow your head in respect – always have been a little nervous of Clive despite him being very sweet - before beginning to crawl out past him. You pause, turn your head over your shoulder and beam at the blonde-haired boy. “Goodnight, Joshua.”

“Goodnight.” He smiles, bashfully.

As you disappear, Clive shakes his head with a knowing smile at the Phoenix, who scowls in response.

“You’re making that face again, brother.”

“What face?”

“The one all the adults do.”

Clive sighs, ruffling his brother’s hair. “You’ll understand when you’re older. Come on,” he offers Joshua his hand. “Out of there before Mother notices.”

--

Year 678

You sleep in feverish spits and spurts, a hoarse-sounding cough wracking your lungs until dawn breaks, where you are dragged up to your feet and along to a wagon for transportation, a group of three Bearers already within. You’re barely conscious but you don’t fight it, perhaps the fever will take you before the noose can.

Everything happens in a haze – a bumpy wagon ride, the clash of metal on metal… You swear someone picks you up with gentle hands rather than rough ones, bundles you in something warm and soft, a gentle bobbing sensation as if you are on a boat…

And then there’s a moment where you see stormy blue eyes that seem familiar from long ago, a flicker of recognition…

Then darkness.

--

Clive storms into the infirmary, you cradled in his arms and Tarja looks up, ready to chide him for once again interrupting Joshua’s check-up, but her prepared scowl drops as she sees what he carries.

“What’s happened?”

“Three Bearers incoming – no injuries, as far as I can tell. Cole says this one hasn’t been properly conscious since they rescued her – a fever, mayhaps.”

“Right,” Tarja nods her head towards an empty bed. “Put her down.”

He places you down, gently, on the bed besides Joshua, who had got to his feet in the commotion – trying to take advantage of it to sneak away from Tarja’s ministrations.

“Joshua, wait.” Clive grabs his brother’s arm, halting him firmly in his tracks. “Take a look at her face – a good one. Am I mistaken, or isn’t it…?” He trails off, looking for confirmation.

Joshua quirks an eyebrow, confused by his brother’s request, but he complies all the same. He walks back over to the bedside and gazes down upon your face, paired with the pendent hanging around your neck and he swears his heart stops.

--

There’s a dull thud in your head as consciousness returns, your eyes flutter open to take in a wooden ceiling, but not one of a wagon. You’re lying on a soft mattress, covered in a blanket and, most peculiarly, someone has their hand resting upon yours.

You turn your head and stare at the blonde man sat besides you, who meets your gaze with a familiar bashful smile.

“Hello,” his voice is soft, just as you remember. “I do not know if you remem-“

You don’t let him finish his sentence, sitting up and throwing your arms around his neck. He’s a little taken back by the sudden act of affection, grunting a little at the impact, but it soon turns into a chuckle as he wraps his arms back around you.

“I thought you dead.” You mumble into his shoulder, voice hoarse but thick with unshed tears. You pull back, wanting to take in his face. “Or am I? Tell me, is it really you, Joshua?”

He nods, beaming now – tears brimming in his own eyes. “It is me, my lady.”

“But how…?” Your question is cut off by that awful wracking cough, burning your lungs and making your eyes water. Joshua rubs your back – he knows all too well how painful coughs can be, after all.

“Easy. Tarja, our healer, will ban me from your bedside if I cause too much excitement. You must rest. There will plenty of time for conversation later, I promise you.”

You reach out for his hand and squeeze it in acknowledgement, trying to catch your breath as your cough finally begins to subside.

“Here.” He drops his hand from your back and twists awkwardly, reaching for a tankard of water by the bedside and offers it to you. “Small sips, now.”

You take it gratefully, being mindful of Joshua’s instruction despite a dreadful thirst and sip slowly, keen to return to conversation, so many questions running through your mind.

He gently takes the tankard once you have finished its contents and places it down, a pout now on his lips.

“I beg you excuse me – Tarja will be most displeased if she discovers you have awakened and I have not informed her. I will be but a moment.”

He gets to his feet – he’s certainly taller than you now, still of a slim build and almost all leg - and you squeeze his hand again firmly as you could hold. “I fear this is a dream.”

Joshua smiles – that same sweet smile you remember from childhood – and brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss across your knuckles. “I assure you this is most real, my lady.”

 --

After a few more days in the infirmary, plied with various elixirs and tonics and strict bedrest, Joshua staying firmly by your side every waking moment that he was permitted to, Tarja finally deems you recovered enough to leave. He is sure to take your hand and escort you down the stairs, giving you a grand tour of the Hideaway, so you found it to be called.

“Joshua?” Jill calls for him as she descends the stairs from Clive’s chambers – the two of you having just done a lap of the Ale Hall. “Clive would like a word.”

“Of course,” Joshua nods, giving you an apologetic smile before he turns to ascend the stairs. Jill quickly swoops in to take his place, looping her arm through yours and leading you out of the Ale Hall and he can’t help but muse that he had somewhat monopolized your time as late. He knocks on the door of his brother’s chambers once and is bade to enter, finding Clive seated at his writing desk, two tankards in front of him and a chair waiting on the other side. The other Fire Dominant gestures towards it and as Joshua sits, he wastes no time.

“Now,” Clive pushes the tankard of ale towards his brother, “Out with it.”

Joshua looks bemused. “Out with what?”

“You’re in love.”

He lightly scoffs, but there is no hiding the crimson in his cheeks. “Nonsense.”

“We all saw it when you were children, Joshua, and we can all see it again now.”

Joshua takes a deep sip from his tankard, trying to avoid Clive’s gaze.

“Look, I do not mean to push you, just… with what we know about Ultima, I do not wish for you to have regrets going forward. I wish I had told Jill years ago of my feelings, and  I cannot sit here idle and allow you to do the same.”

“What if she does not feel the same?”

Clive smiles at him – the same smile he and all the adults did back when he was merely a boy – and he knows what he must do.

--

“My lady,” he offers you hand once more, “Would you care to join me some fresh air? The night is quite pleasant and the view from the observation desk exquisite.”

You take it – it feels more and more natural every time – and nod. “I would love nothing more.”

You head up the spiraling stair case – Joshua’s hand still holding your own, another resting on the small of your back and emerge at the top. He was right - it’s a clear, moon-lit night, Metia twinkling and stars down upon you, the still waters of the blighted lake almost like a mirror.

He leads you over to the bench and the two of you take a seat, for a moment just enjoying each other’s company in silence, though you soon notice the twitch in the Phoenix’s leg.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes, I…” He looks down a moment, before meeting your gaze with his own again. “I wanted to thank you.”

“Me - whatever for?”

He places his hand hesitantly upon yours, clasped politely in your lap. “For being my steadfast friend when I was growing up, and now, to reunite with you after all these years, to see the beautiful young woman you’ve become – still as kind and honest and… brave.”

“Brave?” You laugh at the suggestion. “No, not me – not in comparison to Clive’s merry band.”

“My lady, please don’t dismiss yourself, and especially not when I am trying my best to pay you compliments, which I see you are still no good at accepting.” He teases.

“Some things never change, I suppose.”

“Yet some things do.”

There is no time to question as Joshua leans forward then, cupping your palm with his hand and stares deeply into your eyes, making your cheeks prickle with heat.

“May I be as bold to request a kiss, my lady?”

You don’t even answer, leaning to forward to meet his lips with yours, placing your hand upon his shoulder. It is gentle – as Joshua has always been and will always be – and soft, slowly increasing in pace as the two of you grow in confidence and passion. His arm wraps around your waist, tugging you closer, bodies pressed as he runs his tongue across your bottom lip, seeking entrance and -

There is a creak of a floorboard and the two of you break apart, flustered by the interruption, hearts pounding. A sheepish Clive is stood there, Jill trying to stifle a giggle behind him, the two of them now trying to head back down the stairs.

“Brother,” Joshua calls, “I assure you we are no longer in need of a chaperone.”

“I can tell.” Clive replies, his voice carrying from up the stairs.

“Now, sweet one,” Joshua places his hand back upon your cheek, arm once more around your waist to pull you against him. “Where were we?” ---

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

[bats-and-birds-24]

Chapter 10:

Tim finally broke the silence, “So, Jason, um- how have you been since you were resurrected?” 

He cringed at himself as soon as the sentence came out of his mouth. He didn't know Jason before his death, and yet here he was being overly familiar with him.

He tries to correct himself with, “Sorry about that, um- it just that I’m a huge fan of your Robin, you were my inspiration and everything, I used to follow you around on your patrols when you were a kid and-”

Jason’s brain stopped working at “used to follow him around as a kid.” How long did B know about Tim’s existence? Did he already have a backup in case something happened to him? He wouldn't put something like that past Bruce, this was the man who kept notes on how to take down his closest friends in a fight. 

Mostly he felt like a fool. A fool for trusting Bruce. He took advantage of Dick when he was grieving the loss of his family, he took advantage of Jason when he was homeless, and- “how would Bruce take advantage of a Bristol kid like Tim? He probably got everything he wanted.” The pit whispered in his ears.

Jason shook the green out of his vision and looked at the kid once more. Tim said he was following Jason and Bruce around on patrol, there would be no way for him to do that if he had attentive guardians, he was probably neglected as a child and latched on to his hero and the first adult to give him attention.

“It was pretty easy to follow you guys around since my parents were probably in an archaeological digs somewhere.-” Tim rambled on.

“Hypothesis confirmed.” Jason thought bitterly. As jealous as he was towards the kid, he was just another child put into danger by Bruce. 

He cut him off with “Do you really think you became Robin of your own free will Tim?”

Tim looked up at him bewildered, “I’m not sure what you mean, Bruce didn't even know I existed until I forced him to make me Robin.”

“Tim you didn't force him to make you Robin, he manipulated you into becoming Robin, do you really expect Bruce, the world’s greatest detective, to not know that you were stalking him?” Jason spat out.

Tim drew back, “Of course he didn't know I was there! He didn't want me to be Robin after you died, but his methods of crime suppression became too violent afterwards since he didn't have a Robin to keep him in check! It was for the good of Gotham!”

Jason didn't know whether he should laugh or cry, “Tim you're a child! You shouldn't have to maintain a grown man’s emotions for him!” He should be doing normal kid stuff like going to school and hanging out with friends, not fighting criminals and ending up in life or death situations.

Tim stomach churned, of course his idol didn't want Tim to be Robin, he could live with Jason thinking that he was a poor successor, but he also seemed to think that Bruce manipulated him into becoming his sidekick, which was patently untrue. He had to correct it.

“Jason, I wasn't manipulated.” Tim gently stated.

Jason's anger burst out, unable to contain the pit any longer, “Of course that's what you would say! He has you wrapped around his finger! He doesn't think of you as anything more than a tool!”

Tim’s anger was reaching its limits as well, “Well, how is being Robin with Batman any more dangerous for a kid than being trained as an assassin under Talia Al Ghul!”

“Shut up! It's not the same!” Jason replied hotly. 

Tim could feel tears pricking his eyes. So much for a calm talk with Jason, his idol.

That was when the door swung open and Talia appeared, “Aziz, take Jason to his chambers, I will meet with him later.” She walked straight up to Tim, gave Jason a look that meant that she would be back for him, and led Tim out into the hallway.

“This isn't your fault child, you shouldn't have put all this pressure on yourself to bring him back.” Tim tried to focus on her words, as the rest of the world blurred under his tears.

[moments-on-film]

Moments on Film: Carmy’s True Purpose

Hello everyone! I hope you’ve been well. I haven’t posted in a while, life has been hectic, but I wanted come back to share a post I had been working on this Fall. It’s is a follow up post to my series, Carmy doesn’t know who he is yet. I have one more piece to share in this series. In the first piece, I explained how Carmy is not currently in touch with who he is and what actually makes him happy because his original passion, art, has been beaten out of him. So far in his life, Carmen’s done the only thing he thinks he can do, stay in the kitchen. But he’s not living a life and his heart is frozen.

Carmy is abused, traumatized, exhausted, and his heart is simply not in the kitchen anymore, and maybe it never was.

He suffers from severe nightmares, night terrors, and debilitating anxiety, and is sick and it all stems from trauma forged in the fires of the various kitchens of his life. Because of his extreme commitment to being a chef, and a great chef, he has absolutely no personal life, no friends outside of work, no joy, no sense of play or fun or happiness.

There are so many examples of Carmy’s heart not being in the kitchen anymore, from the first episode to the last. Carmy has also never fully exhibited the true characteristics, strengths and skills needed to be a great leader. This is why he always feels off. He’s not great at communicating, he is not in control of his personal triggers, which cause his personal life to impact his professional life, he is not good at any of the backend skills that are required to be the “captain the ship”, such as business acumen, finance, interpersonal skills. This is because being the leader of the restaurant is not his true purpose, it’s literally fixing everyone else up to run it without him and then leaving to go live the life he should living, and not his sad shell of an existence. He does have a very important leadership skill needed to do this: seeing beauty, seeing the best in others, and seeing other people’s strengths before they can see it in themselves. Let me explain. How Carmy’s skill will lead him to his ultimate purpose.

In season 1

When Carmy meets Sydney, he quickly assesses her skill and potential, and almost instantly relinquishes his power as the leader of the restaurant and bestows it on her, he says he will “dial business” and tells her, “you are everything else.” Ironically, he doesn’t even “dial business”, in S2, by calling the fridge guy, leading to his own downfall.

Carmy literally says “I can’t do this” in his nightmare in 1x8.

In the Al-Anon monologue in 1x8, Carmy states his purpose, maybe to “fix the whole family” by fixing the restaurant. This doesn’t mean his family by blood. As he tells Natalie in 2x9, “family is also not an exact science.” He’s talking subconsciously about his chosen family of Sydney, Richie, Tina, Marcus, Fak. And isn’t that what Carmy spent the majority of S2 actually doing? Knowing what each person on his team needs in order to be “fixed”, pushed to dig deep, make the most of their strengths, passions and gifts and achieve their ultimate potential.

A major major revelation for me that Carmy wants out and that he has no problem handing over the reigns to his capable team took place in the finale of S1. Sydney, not Carmy, brings Michael’s spaghetti to the table.

Gif source: @chefkids

This really stood out to me when I first saw it. I immediately thought, why isn’t he doing this? Michael gave him the recipe, it was the last thing he ever gave him, and he cooked it. It should have been Carmy. It really should have. Just like it should have been Carmy that created a dish named in honor of his brother. He didn’t. It is Marcus that has the honor. Again, the first time I heard Marcus say “the Michael”, when Carmy asked what the cannoli was called, I teared up and then said out loud, “that should have been you.”

In 2x1, Carmy tells Richie, “this shits not fun for me”, and tells Sydney “F stars”, and “we’re trapped” (if we get one). Look at his eyes in the gif below. He knows what it will mean and he doesn’t want to do it anymore.

When Carmy sees Claire in the freezer aisle of Potash Grocery store, he openly tells her he told Mrs. Kelly’s son “don’t do it” when he was asked advice on becoming a chef. Then he gets reflective and says, “I should really listen to myself.”

I discussed in a prior piece how “just keep going” has been Carmy’s mantra his entire life. It’s been his survival technique because it has had to be. He’s exhausted, traumatized, sick, in pain and desperately in need of a reset. In my opinion, in S2, he’s looking for any excuse to subconsciously jump ship, not be the captain of it, which is why he let himself get distracted with Claire.

For much of S2, Carmy is actually giving pieces of himself in the restaurant away. He gives Tina his knife, which is so sweet but it’s also a little jarring. He gives Marcus a “spot” in Copenhagen to train. Tina and Ebrahim get sent to culinary school. Richie gets sent to stage at Ever, a 3 Star Michelin restaurant. Natalie is the COO and has taken over the office. It’s no longer his, it belongs to Natalie. He is setting everyone else up to take over. Sydney is the CDC. He tells her, “it’s your ship now, Captain”, and she opens the doors, not Carmy, when it’s time to open. Carmy can’t do paperwork, or manage the business end of the restaurant, but he also isn’t contributing by innovating and being a consistent leader.

In the kitchen, two hours before the soft open, Carmy is finally “there”. He’s barking orders, catching everything he’s missed, but he is completely going through the motions. His commands are joyless. Sydney, Tina, and the crew say “yes Chef”, but there’s none of the teamwork, camaraderie, and dare I say, fun, as when Richie is running the pass and expoing with his whole heart when Carmy’s trapped in the freezer.

When Uncle Jimmy asks Carmy, “do you want to be the guy? Then be the f-ing guy”, you can see Carmy glaze over. No. Carmy doesn’t want to be the guy. Not the guy in the restaurant. Not anymore.

Even Carmy’s new monogrammed chef coat is another example of how Carmy is disappearing and fading away. His former coat had dark blue initials in an elegant cursive font. His new coat has his initials in plain font, in white stitching, barely visible, unless you look for it hard.

In the end, Carmy is locked out and left behind in his own restaurant because subconsciously he doesn’t want to be there.

I have written about this in various posts, but I truly believe Carmy’s character arc is to get back to his original passion, which is art. Michael knows this is a gift of his, and thanks to the menu sketches he drew for the new most important person in his life, now so does Sydney.

Michael’s final note to Carmen was the recipe for spaghetti for him to fix for family meal, the words, “I love you dude”, and “Let it rip.” But what if Michael was really saying find the money, take it and everything you’ve learned and FIX the family to go on with the restaurant without you (something Mikey was never able to do while he was alive) and then once you’ve done that, “Let it RIP”, as in Rest In Peace. Leave. Get out. Don’t be scared. Go for it. And discover the life you’re truly meant to be living.

©️moments-on-film 2023

[todoroklee]

BUGS

Lee!alastor ler!nifty ler!angeldust

Summary: Alastor was having a bad day, so Nifty and angel decided to help...

It was a kinda casual day in the Hazbin Hotel if you consider casual fire, flames, and fun? Well, fun as in nifty running around telling jokes and screaming but yknow, the usual. However, today was different, Alastor wasn't his usual self. Always smiling, but today. He wasn't.

"Al?" Nifty asked from the shadows.

"Oh, yes dear?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yes. I'm fine..." he stuttered, he tried not to show it, but he was sad and nifty could easily tell.

But then, she got an idea...

"Al!" She gasped, "you have a bug in your hair, lemme get it!"

And before alastor could even answer, she was sat on his head trying to find that pesky bug.

"Dear, be gentle!" He said with a shaky voice. His ears were very ticklish, and if she started digging around, she may find out...

"I will!" Sha said as she scratched around all the fur.

Then she saw it. Right behind his ear, gotcha. She started to scratch and scribble around, trying to grab it, not knowing that below her was a demon who was really struggling to keep his cool.

"N-Nihifty dear! Plehease d-dont do thahat," he giggled

"Ohh I get it, your ticklish!"

He froze as a bright red blush appeared on his cheeks. How could a little girl have such an effect on a demon?!

"Do not tell anyone. You gohot iHiHIT HEHEHEY!"

as he was trying to speak, nifty found a sweet spot, accidentally but still.

"NIHIFT NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!" she was wiggling her fingers right in the crook of his neck driving him insane.

"But Al! There's some bugs in here, too!" She teased.

But alastor paid no attention as he was consumed with trying not to drop her and trying to stop her tickling! Obviously, angel heard all of this laughter and wondered what was up! Upon seeing this, he waltzed his way up the stairs and joined nifty at her little game.

"That's cute, alastors ticklish! Who would've thought, eh?" He said, wiggling a finger behind alastors ear.

"STOHOHP! I- IM GOHOHONNAH DROHOP HEHER!"

"Well, we mustn't have that!" Angel went to grab nifty, but whilst he was, he brushed against alastors' sides, achieving a squeal.

"No fuckin' way! How are you so fuckin ticklish everywhere?!" He said running his hands over the demons sides causing him to giggle and collapse on the ground.

"Holy shit dude"

"Yehehea ihihts bahahad..."

"I think it's adorable"

"Shut up." Alastor said with a wobbly grin as he walked back towards the living room.

"That was so cute, right nifty?"

"Oh definitely"

Au: this is very shit so uh sorry, but I was bored so if it makes no sense sorry again