#im sorry it took so long tho :(((

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

can you PLEASEEEE do something with the idea of reader stealing/wearing katsukis clothes?? you’re the only one who i think will fully do this idea justice xx

pure fluff, reader is a thief, reader likes the way katsuki smells, roughhousing lol kinda ?? katsuki sorta tackles you, katsuki is a meanie, tickling, no pronouns mentioned in this one I don’t think ! lemme know if i missed sum else !!

a/n : hey so this has been sittin in my drafts for literal decades omg IM SO SORRY🙁🙁🙁🙁ALSO BTW TYSM FOR THINKIN I COULD DO UR ASK JUSTICE I WAS SO FLATTERED WHEN I READ THIS I WAS GIGGLING N SHIT🤭🤭i was always so excited for this ask but I literally never got around to doing it after my break n stuff, im slowly (and that’s suuuuper slowly im so sorry yall i suck) getting to all of your asks one at a time and im so grateful yall r still givin me the time of day honestly , so please be patient with me🤧💗💗💍 ! But anway enough dumping ! Anon if you’re still sticking around, i truly hope u enjoy this ! And ofc all of yall too ! much luv xxx!!

"you fuckin' thief.."

shit. you thought he'd be gone for longer.

lately, you’d been routinely sneaking into katsuki’s dorm room and nabbing some of his clothes. sweaters, hoodies, t-shirts : as long as they were in your reach, you’d grab them.

it's not your fault, really ! katsuki's clothes are so cosy and warm and they smell just like him. plus, they're perfect to snuggle in when he's busy, how could you not borrow them for a little while ?!

..except you can admit that you’ve been stalling..and a lot of his clothes were still in your room, but you still planned on giving them back..soon !

and you can’t even pretend, because you’re wearing on of his hoodies that had been missing for a good week now.

"katsuki, baby." you slowly lean away from his clothes drawer, your hand ready to snag a black hoodie of his slowly trailing towards the floor "i can explain."

"all my damn sweaters, my fuckin' hoodies. they all just vanished without a trace.." he starts, slowly stalking over to you. you squeak, slowing getting on your knees to prepare yourself should you have to break his ankles and sprint out of the room. he's fuming, eyebrows twitching "thought i was goin' crazy.."

"and all this time.."

"suki.." you try, voice wobbly as your knees shake with each step closer he gets.

"it's been fucking YOU ?!"

and he pounces.

with a squeal, you scramble and dash away just as he leaps for you and narrowly misses, he's got you cornered as you're on opossite sides of his bed while you beg for mercy and he keeps yelling at you to 'come here'. in a panick you grab one of his pillows and fling it at him.

it feels like the pillow slides down his face in slow motion to reveal a look so vile a demon appearing in front of you right now would scare you less

“you’re. so. dead.”

there’s really nowhere else for you to go. you’re truly cornered, you might as well just be buried right now. you think about the leftovers waiting for you in the fridge and how sero still hadn’t returned the manga he’d leant from you, but you’ve lived a pretty good life.

before your body can decide to move, katsuki leaps over to you tackling you and having you land straight onto his bed with a loud shriek.

frantically, you wave your hands around “wait, wait pleasepleasepleasepleasepleas-” but your begs of mercy are cut off when katsuki jams a finger into your side, causing you to yelp. he hovers over you with a mean smirk. and you know what’s coming.

“katsu—”

you don’t even get to finish before he jams his hands into your sides and mercilessly tickles you.

from an outsiders point of view? this is harmless. but your boyfriend is mean and the biggest asshole in the world because he knows all of your weak spots and the places he knows will have you shaking and gasping for breath. it felt like actually torture, really.

“thought you could get away with it, huh ?” he sneers, leaning down a bit more so he’s eye level with you “thought you could keep taking my shit and i’d just neeever find out, hm ? yeah ?”

“b-but i—ah ! didn’t—!” you gasp and squeal, choking on the sentences you can’t manage to push out of your throat as your eyes squeeze closed. you don’t have to see his face to know he’s enjoying this.

“you’re a fuckin’ thief.” he spits, backing up from you so you don’t headbutt him square in the nose from your thrashing. you’re response is nothing but a harsh gasp and he smirks wider.

you think he’s finally, finally taken pity on you when his fingers slow to a stop, but he glares down at you, hands still on either sides of you “say it.”

you can’t even catch your breath before he hurriedly pressed closer to your sides to scare you, you shriek “stop ! m’sorry !”

“not what i wanted you to say, try again.”

“you’re—” you take a breath “sucha”

his fingers graze your shirt and his eyes are wide, daring you to finish your sentence, you bring your hands up to try to hide his field of vision.

“OKAY ! okay, okay…” you slowly lower your hands away, finally dropping them at your sides with a sigh “m’ a thief…” you mumble in defeat, embarrassment creeping up on you not only from the fact that you got caught but that the blond above you clearly enjoyed your torture if the evil snickers you heard we’re any sign of that.

he hums in satisfaction “mhm, no good fuckin’ thief. should lock you up and throw away the key on your ass.” you hate how handsome he looks when he’s playful like this with you. your sides still hurt and your voice is croaky from how out of breath you were and for a moment you seriously thought you saw the pearly gates.

you pout, and all it does is make him smile wider.

your boyfriend is mean. and the biggest asshole in the entire fucking world.

“s’not my fault..your clothes are comfy.” you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest. “and they smell good.”

he scoffs, leaning down closer towards you “that’s cus i fuckin’ wash them. and i haven’t been able to lately cus someone’s been stealing my entire closet.”

“i didn’t !”

“was boutta make me walk around naked, ya moron. all my clothes are gone.” you roll your eyes, he never lacked in the dramatics department.

“you’re such a drama queen.” you whine, sinking into his comforter. he ignores you and he presses your cheeks together with one hand, chuckling at your smooched cheeks and furrowed brows.

“stop stealing my stuff.” he announces slowly. he’s clear, no way you could’ve misunderstood him anyway. he sighs and presses a quick peck to your lips still pressed together

“if you want one of my sweaters r’something, jus’ come ask me. can give you one..or whatever.” he finishes, voice slightly muffled in embarrassment as he shoves his mouth against yours again and again making wet kissing sounds and you manage a giggle. he rolls his eyes, but a smile slowly crawls up his face anyway as he releases your cheeks. you let out a happy sigh, opening and closing your mouth to get rid of the slight soreness.

“take this shit off though.” he tugs at the hoodie you’re wearing “stinks. need to put it in the wash.”

“no it doesn’t !” you protest, pressing the color against your nose in an attempt to keep it close to you “it smells like you!” you pout. he doesn’t respond for a bit, opting to squint at you while the tips of his ears turned pink. and in a second his snatched the bottom of it and ripped it off of you, ripping a pathetic scream from you.

he examined his hoodie with an unreadable expression before his eyes land back on you for a second, then he slowly starts folding up his sweater “you trynna say i stink ?” he says lowly.

“no. i wouldn’t wear your clothes if they were nasty” you scrunch up your nose “you can take back the sweater in my room, though. the smell is starting to wear off.”

“gee, thanks for offering to give me my sweater back. weirdo” he glares, spitting his words out sarcastically and you giggle at his extra emphasis on his ownership of the hoodie which earns you a huff.

“ i’m grabbing all the shit you took from me, and they stay with me.” he starts warningly “but you can keep this, i guess..” he adds, patting on his now folded hoodie ready for a cleaning. you smile happily, running your socked feet into his blankets.

“ oh, but don’t forget to wear it first after you washed it, want it to smell like you. otherwise there’s no point.”

“you really are a fucking weirdo.” he spits, but the way his cheeks burn bright red say he’s not truly mad about it. you laugh, and katsuki grumbles. “hope you learned your lesson, freak.” he taunts. you hum in fake thought, then release a sigh.

“yeah, i guess i did.” you concede, and he nods proudly.

and sure, yeah, you’re boyfriend’s a big meanie. but you do a great job at riling him up.

“for now.”

[sporeclan]

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Oh yay a new queen with kits let me just check out her informatioFOURTEEN MOONS?!?!?!?!?!?!??!

[arcadebandit]

you should totally draw 80s boyfriends haha,,,

ah yes, my favorite ship dynamic: trash goblin man x sunshine bf

HC: Felix is very, very supportive when it comes to Turbo's races. Even if he wins every lap and likes to be a snob about it, Turbo actually gets super flustered at Felix's compliments because he's so genuine about it.

I love 8-bit yaoi.

[that-weeb-in-ur-closet]

Moaning into Chuuya's super expensive leather booth at the restaurant he owns because he decided to fuck you senseless in public. And, of course, being the famous billionaire he is, can do that as he pleases. What are the people in HIS restaurant gonna do? Call the cops? He can bribe them with a small thousand, two thousand bucks?

"You like that, baby? Huh? Like seeing everyone stare?" He moans into your ear, roughly pounding into you while kissing down your neck, moans fill the entire restaurant. Your panties and skirt lazily pulled aside, as well as the table. He barely pulled down his pants and underwear, but he was too turned on by the thought of everyone watching you two, and even more turned on by the thought that he CAN do it. Who's gonna stop him?

Energized with all the glory, Chuuya edition.

Satoru Gojo edition: here.

[machinepilled]

AND QUITE SUDDENLY I REMEMBERED / I HAD BEEN HERE BEFORE

I’D STOOD ON THIS SAME HILL / I KNEW THE VALLEY OF WHICH I LOOKED

[adrinktostopyourthirst]

dear sweet m if you end up writing about bucky with a vibrating arm can i pretty please be tagged?? (i don’t know if you do taglists, i couldn’t find anything that indicated either way, totally fine if not!)

Ah yes, Bucky and his vibrating arm. I’ve been hinting at it for ages. And you’d be surprised to find out…

There is no reason for the Wakandans to give the arm some extra functions. So any other vibrations than the mild ones from the inside mechanics were unnecessary. But as we’ve seen from Bucky ever since the 1940’s, he’s quite fascinated by technology himself. Also quite skilled with that brain of his. And as mentioned a while ago, this man has the sexual curiosity of a teenage boy – especially after everything that has happened to him.

So it took him some time to perfect using tools with just one hand, but he has managed to add in some extra functions to his arm. Peeling away at the vibranium carefully and programming some new things into the limb. Some things functioning as an element of surprise in battle, yes, but some functioning as an element of surprise in bed.

The first time he tried it on himself, he had taken a few deep breaths before activating it, squeezing his cock in his metal fist and supressing a low grunt. He had already been so close and had been edging himself for a while. He’d been throbbing and the artificial nerves in his metal arm could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat pulsing through his cock. How had he gotten so nervous doing this all of a sudden? It was a lot, but God, he’d needed to come! It had been unbearable, the need for release. Almost as unbearable as the thought of finishing it the way he normally would.

So he had turned on the added function, the vibrations rising carefully to a steady buzz the way he had programmed it, and the noise that sprang from his mouth had been borderline pornographic.

And he couldn’t stop. Moaning and whimpering as his palm vibrated against the hilt of his cock, he had barely managed to squeeze and pull his hand up to the aching tip of himself. Definitely hadn’t managed more than two pulls before he had spilled months of pent up frustration onto his toned chest with a helpless cry as the vibrations dimmed and he pulled himself through his vision-blackening orgasm.

And as much as he loved using the hidden feature, he hadn’t yet used it on a bed partner. It felt too intimate, too controlling for some reason. Until you, of course.

Because yes, Bucky has a kink for corruption and even though he knows there’s little left of you to corrupt, the small nudges out of your comfort zone felt like drugs to him. The man loves to be on his knees for you, worship the ground you walk on, but there are few things better than getting you to submit to him. Even fewer than ruining the sheets below you while he is still dressed.

And tonight, you looked beautiful. Sinful in the classiest way. He’d suffered through wearing a tuxedo to the party, as long as you felt confident next to him. And in turn, he felt powerful next to you. It was one of those moments where Bucky’s heart swelled three sizes because he realised that you both make each other want to be better. In the big things, but also the small things like tonight. Looking good, charming people, bragging about each other and hyping up one another. He was in cloud nine and it was about time he paid you back for it.

You are already breathing heavily, draped on your shared bed with your dress discarded and your heels still on. Your hair messy and makeup smudged slightly. Your skin is throbbing and flushed and the ache between your legs is nearly numbing. You stare up at the ceiling lazily, coming down from another Bucky-induced high as he prowls around the bed and watches you – jacket discarded and the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows.

“I’ll never get enough of making you come, you know,” he says before he once again climbs over you. Kisses are pressed to your belly, your breasts, your neck. You almost purr at the feeling. “And I will always look for new ways to get it done. New ways to make you feel better.”

You want to tell him you already feel great, fight him on it, tell him there is nothing he needs to compensate for. But you’re so dazed and selfishly, you love it when he talks to you like this. It makes goosebumps prickle over your skin. And Bucky laughs softly at the sight, teasingly trailing fingers up your damp inner thighs. You shudder at the touch.

He continues, “But tonight… Shit. You looked so beautiful. So tempting. I want to use all of my ways on you. I want to make you come and moan and scream until you are nothing but a puddle of sweat and tears and come.” You whine softly at his words and drape your hands over his neck, urging him closer. He breathes onto your lips, “I want it all from you. Forever. Give me everything, baby. I know you can–”

The surge of vibrations against you cunt is so much, you gasp for air and freeze all the same. You try to snap your legs shut, but Bucky’s body is keeping you from it. You open your mouth to say something, but everything has left you. Thoughts, words, willpower – it’s all gone. Your body tightens and loosens, pleasure unfurling throughout it like light in a glowstick.

Involuntarily, your hips buck and grind against his hand and the sounds that escape you are torturous. You feel Bucky’s smirk burning over your skin and you only barely manage to look down.

You’ve used toys before, but these vibrations… It feels like the toy is made for you, rolling over every single nerve of your clit so precisely it feels out of this world.

And as you look down, Bucky’s gaze follows, and you see three of his metal fingers rolling over your clit. You let out a moan at the sight – a sound Bucky answers with a deep groan of his own. Nothing will boost his confidence more than your responses to him. Especially when he knows there is no room left in your brain to overthink the responses. These are purely natural. Needy and appreciative.

The two of you look at his hand in trance, breaths and moans fanning over Bucky’s cheek. And then he slips two fingers into your soaked core, curling them up against your swollen walls and the both of you let out a carnal groan, your hands clutching him tighter.

Oh shit, oh shit…

“B-Bucky,” you gasp and he presses a kiss to your temple in answer. You sigh and close your eyes, sinking into the sheets as he pushes and pushes against the growing bubble in your belly. Rolling a vibrating thumb over your clit and pushing vibrating fingers against your deepest spot.

“Give it to me,” he murmurs, but he sounds rushed. Impatient. Like there is nothing in the world he wants more than to have you fall apart for him. Nothing more than feeling you squeeze around him again. He watches it build. Something big, something neither of you can come back from. He watches you nearly vibrate yourself with pleasure as the pleasure builds, and builds, and builds–

And when you burst, Bucky watches you lose yourself entirely to him. More importantly, only three fingers from him. And he wonders how you would look and sound if you lost yourself to him entirely. In love, in pleasure, in need, in life–  

Aaaand he wonders if he could do this in public.

[haomnyangz]

thats not a dog tag around his neck thats a medal

[smolsawyer]

@acertainrandomguy​ here you go :))))

[ohdeerfully]

HEYY HIII i finally gave some attention to this fic! this will be the final part, so i wrote in some semi sweet fluffiness between reader and al <3 kisses kisses hugs love you all!

Your Half of the Deal (iii)(Final)

Alastor x Reader

part i part ii part iii

TW: kidnapping, violence, alastor ooc probably... oh whale

join my discord!

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You had lost track of the time spent in that room, a near constant headache thrumming in your head due to the deep bass that you now knew resonated from the club just beyond the door. Every now and then you would recognize the faint tune of a familiar pop song—Angel often took you out to bars to escape from the Hotel—and let yourself enjoy the recognition, humming along. It was truly the only thing you could do with yourself.

You humored yourself with the thought of who your knight in shining armor may be, if one ever came. Would it be Alastor? Finally holding up his half of your soul bargain? Or maybe even Angel, stumbling across you in a bender with Cherri? Or even an unrelated third party that wouldn’t even recognize you; surely the Vee’s have made enough enemies to warrant somebody saving you just to get back at them. No matter who crossed your mind, you couldn’t get your hopes up. You were certain it hadn’t been days in here, but it had been long enough that you were starting to convince yourself nobody was coming.

You may just have to save yourself.

Due to the constant struggle against the metal restraints that chained you to the bed, your wrists had begun to blister and scab, sending dull waves of sensitive pain through your arms. Vox often visited, putting on a face of care and concern, but you knew better than to trust him. All Overlords had to be manipulative to get their way, and Vox was no exception—in fact, he may just be the worst of the worst (not including Alastor). He offered various times to help you dress the wounds on your arms, but you returned his gestures by hissing insults and lunging for that oversized television he had for a head. He kept trying, though, and each attempt at playing nice made you feel all the more crazy and violent. 

Speak of the devil, you thought with a frown as the door opened, briefly casting multicolored lights and a blare of loud music into the room before it was quickly silenced by the click of the door closing again. You subconsciously leaned towards the exit, desperately wanting to escape.

The tall, flat-faced demon strode in, head held high with, in your opinion, undeserved confidence. He was a coward. You fucking hated cowards. You let your lips curl into a sneer as he stopped a foot away from you, peering down with his own curled smirk. 

“You’ll get an infection,” Vox referred to your wrists. This shit again? You clenched your fists. “Please, let me treat them. It’s the least I could–”

“Man fuck off with that shit!” You snapped, leaning forward. You bared your fangs at him, tail lashing. “The least you could do is let me the fuck out! I’m fuckin’ hungry!”

Vox’s smile grew wider, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He took a breath in through his teeth, trying to remain polite. He sat down next to you, the mattress dipping with his weight. You took extreme care to not let yourself fall towards him from the unexpected shift.

Despite every bone in your body wanting to lunge in attack like usual, you held back. Truthfully you knew it was futile, you just enjoyed the rush you got from just trying to fight back. This time, though, you wanted to see if you could get any information about your current situation out of him. Maybe it would help you escape.

“You know we can’t let you out,” He said in a condescendingly sweet tone. He reached a hand out and placed it on your shoulder, digging his claws into your shirt and nearly into your skin when you tried to jerk away. You got the hint. “What better way to get to that out-dated Overlord than taking away his favorite toy?”

“I’m not a toy,” You said through clenched teeth. While you doubted this fact yourself, you would never admit it. Not to Vox. The smile he gave you in return was akin to an adult looking down on a naive child. It made your blood boil, and the internal battle you were having to not fly into attack mode was getting harder and harder. All the while you were talking, you kept analyzing him, looking for any semblance to a key, or anything that may serve as a lockpick. Whether to your restraints or even to the door, either would bring you one step closer to getting out. 

There was no doubt he recognized what you were doing—he was an Overlord, not a fool. Maybe he didn’t expect you to be much of a challenge, or to get very far, as he made no move to avert your prying eyes. If anything, it was like he was asking you to try, what with the way he shifted in such a way that you noticed the slight imprint of a key in his pocket. You tried your best to act indifferent. How the hell were you going to get that?

“Could you at least let me out for a moment to piss?” You kept up the attitude, but slumped your shoulders to look defeated and averted your eyes to the floor. Out of the corner of your eye you saw his smile grow, a cheshire-like grin as if he was watching a mouse play right into his trap. And you didn’t doubt you were, Vox would never be so careless as to reveal the presence of a key unless it was on purpose. It didn’t matter to you, though, because you resolved to just be stronger than he expected you to be. He was underestimating you.

“Oh, but of course! No wonder you’ve been so snippy,” He joked, idly picking up the chain that was attached to the wall with a finger as he spoke. He shifted his hand over towards your wrists, gripping them just barely hard enough to send a wave of sensitive pain through your hand. You grit your teeth and bore back any recognition of the pain as he continued to fiddle with your chains.

He produced a key from his coat pocket. This must mean that the key in his pants pocket was for the door… which, if everything goes fine, would be perfect. Without your restraints, you only had to worry about getting the fuck out of here.

Relief swelled through your wrists when the clasps fell away from your skin, fresh air soothing your raw skin. You allowed yourself a second to tenderly press your fingers against the blisters, wincing at the sting it caused. You shook your hands out in front of you and stood, watching Vox out of the corner of your eye. He stood and offered his arm to you; although, you knew it was less of an offer and more of a command. He wouldn’t let you out of here if he couldn’t hold on to you.

You slowly slipped your arm through the curve of his elbow, linking yourself to him. You allowed yourself to mentally vomit at the contact, but held your expression steady and calm as he led you out. Maybe causing a scene in public will help? Honestly doubtful—you were in Hell, after all, and demons were much too intimidated by the technology Overlord. Maybe someone you know will just so happen to be here?

Thoughts and plans raced through your mind, but none seemed plausible. At this point, you thought it was just best to throw yourself at him even if it got you nowhere. It might do you good to get some energy out at the very least. 

Your senses were immediately overwhelmed when he opened the door; bright, flashing neon lights and the deep booming bass of music swamped over you. You were no stranger to this type of scene, but after being locked up in a deathly quiet room for some time… a headache was quick to come.

Swiftly taking in the scene before you, you desperately searched for some semblance of familiarity within the sea of people as Vox led you against the wall towards the restroom. You didn’t see anybody that you knew, but caught a few curious eyes, no doubt over the fact that you were basically holding Vox’s hand. You wished you could cast out some mental signal that you did not want to be this close to the Overlord and beg demons not to get the wrong idea. 

Your attention was brought back when Vox’s arm fell away from yours, and you realized you were standing in front of the restroom. You cast him a quick look before quickly dashing into the room, thankful to finally have a chance away from him without shackles on your arms. You rested your hands on the lip of the sink, heaving a shaky breath and looking absently at the drain, tracing the pattern of the speckles of undrained water that clung to the porcelain. You tried not to let it get to you, especially not in his presence, but being so close to the Technology Overlord made every nerve in your body blaze with anxiety.

Flipping the faucet on, you let the lukewarm water run over your bruised wrists. Times like this you wished Hell had the convenience of cold tapwater, but the water nevertheless did the job of soothing your skin. You watched the water blankly for a minute, mind lost in thought over your situation. The gentle warmth of the water almost sent you into a trancelike state, and you were likely to get stuck there for a few moments just enjoying it if it wasn’t for a loud banging at the door and an impatient voice calling for you. You snapped back a retort about him rushing you, but you still turned off the faucet and dried your hands.

With a quick glance at yourself in the mirror, you gave yourself a resolute and firm look before leaving the restroom. You could do this.

You flung open the door, not taking time to observe Vox’s somewhat surprised look as his fist was still raised to continue knocking on the door. You made a mad dash past him, ducking under claws that swung at your shirt collar in an attempt to yank you back. 

“Fuck- fucking get back here!” You heard him snarl from behind you, voice unnaturally louder than the music that boomed in the room. It was as if he just… commanded the music to be quieter so he could project his own, overpowering voice. Though you knew, as the Technology Overlord, that was most likely in his limit of power, you still couldn’t help the cold feeling that the uncanny experience sent in your bones. You kept running, ignoring the shouts of curiosity from the crowd at the whole ordeal.

A strong arm wrapped around your neck, bringing you close to somebody’s chest. The sudden change of momentum and pressure on your throat made you sputter momentarily for air, but it didn’t take long for you to come to and realize how fucked you were.

“Vox! Ova’ here!” The demon who held you tightly shouted, and you managed to just barely catch sight of his face. His smile was huge and toothy, a pleased look glimmering in his eyes. He fiercely waved his hand in the air.

“You gross, good for nothing fanboy!” You cried, struggling in his grip. You brought your hands up to his burly arm and dug your claws as much as possible into his skin, yanking down and shredding his skin. He kicked you away with a pained yelp, snarling some curses at you as he nursed his arms and slunk back in the crowd, of which had formed a large circle around the two of you, undoubtedly to the bar to lick his wounds. You stood, preparing to run, but… You realized it was too late.

Vox cleared his throat behind you. He had no need to grab you—you both knew running would be futile at this point. You tightened your lips together in a grimace and clenched your fists. What would you do now? 

Fuck it, and, just like you had when you first came across him, you lunged at him. Though, this time you went lower, hurling yourself into his stomach. He stumbled just enough to give you time to send a frenzy of claws across his body, scratching anything that came within reach of you. You gripped his leg and yanked up, toppling him over before you ran once again.

You didn’t get far before something curled over your ankle, twisting around the limb and tripping you. You fell to your hands with a loud ‘fuck’ before shooting your eyes to see what the culprit was—a thin wire twisted up your leg, digging harder and harder into your skin as the seconds past. Every attempt you made seemed futile to rid yourself of Vox, and you had to bite back a cry of frustration.

“Pets don’t get far without their leash,” He spat distastefully at you. A line of blood fell from his mouth, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in yourself for making Vox feel some pain, even if the blood on his face was just a display of light.

Vox walked closer, his height sending an ominous shade over your downed body. You didn’t let yourself tremble, though you wanted to, because you truly had nowhere to go from here; you couldn’t let him know that you were afraid. You would keep fighting him, no matter what, even if it would kill you. If you weren’t going to escape this shit, you would die trying. In your frenzied mindset, you didn’t notice the growing sensation of static that prickled against your skin.

◈

Alastor stood in front of the club, ears flat against his head in an attempt to block out the blaring music that he could already hear from outside the doors. He abhorred places like this, finding them distasteful and a disgrace to the clubs that he frequented back in his day. Of course, he had to get over himself in that regard—finding and saving you from the grasps of that nasty TV head was more important.

His shadow had returned to him a few hours after he left the Vees’ residence, having seen Vox himself entering the club through a back entrance. He had wasted no time in making his way there, ignoring the painful thrumming of his heart and the twisting feeling his stomach made. 

With a twirl of his cane and quick adjustment to his bowtie, he made his way in, melting into his shadow to slip in the crack of the same back door his shadow had seen. When inside, he found himself in a somewhat desolate corner of the club, his ears twitching uncomfortably at the sound of the music, louder now that he was inside. He swept his red eyes across the huge room, trying to see past the swarm of demons.

A light pressure on his shoulder, which he quickly recognized came from his shadow, urged his attention towards a room just to the left of the back entrance. The door was cracked open, and he slunk towards the door, peeking in before entering to ensure nobody was there.

The room immediately sent a wave of some uncomfortably intense emotion through him, though he wasn’t quite sure what—fury, maybe?—because the room smelled just like you. His nostrils flared and his eyes immediately narrowed at the realization, and the stick of his cane creaked from the grip he held on it. He didn’t fully understand why the hint of your presence after your absence made him feel so strongly, but he did know that he was pissed, the feeling of which was only increased tenfold when he saw the shackles that lay ominously barren on the bed.

He swiftly left the room, not caring if the slamming of the door brought any attention to him. It didn’t, though, and he quickly realized that a commotion on the other side of the club had already drawn the attention of everyone. A voice—no, your voice shouted something, and another wave of that fury coursed through Alastor’s veins. He quickly moved forward, shoving through the crowd. Demons began noticing his presence as he pushed, and space was being made for him to move through.

Though he wanted nothing more than to simply tear Vox apart, Alastor quickly gained composure and stepped out from the crowd into the wide berth that had formed around Vox and you. 

Alastor met your gaze for a brief moment, noting how thrilled you looked to see him and quickly sweeping his eyes over your body and analyzing your condition. His smile curled up in a light snarl when he saw the wire that twisted around your leg. How dare that flat-faced Overlord touch what belonged to Alastor?

He turned his head towards said Overlord, whose face was lit with a multitude of different emotions. Alastor could tell his breathing was coming rapidly, and whether it was due to excitement, fear, or even both, Alastor didn’t know nor did he truly care. All he saw was a pathetic demon before him who took something that wasn’t his.

“My old friend!” Alastor exclaimed with fake friendliness, a smile lighting up his face as his arms stretched up and wide. He stepped towards Vox, an ominous shadow forming under his feet as he walked. Tiny tendrils of flame licked up from the manifesting power as Alastor purposefully made an attempt to intimidate Vox into submission. There was intense bloodlust in his veins, but he was less inclined to create a scene with another Overlord than just getting out of here with you. Plus, despite Vox’s obsession with defeating Alastor, the other two Vee’s really kept out of the feud… Alastor didn’t want to draw the attention of them as well.

Vox didn’t yield, though, and he also began walking towards Alastor, though his body language was much less friendly. His shoulders were high and tense and his claws curled into fists, a frown flickering onto the screen of his face. The two stopped just a foot from each other, and the energy in the room crackled dangerously. The music had stopped, and the crowd of demons had begun slinking out of the club, deathly quiet so as to not draw the attention from the Overlords. This wasn’t particularly necessary, though, as they watched each other with equally unyielding iron stares.

Alastor allowed one more look at you when he heard you weakly say his name. Maybe the sight of him brought you enough relief to finally let exhaustion overcome your body, because you had lost all will to fight. When he saw just how pitiful you looked, how extremely exhausted you were, he didn’t care to hold back anymore.

“I don’t let thieves get away for long,” Alastor said, his voice low and filled with static. He felt the weight of his horns as they expanded while his limbs grew unnaturally, allowing him to tower in height over Vox. In response, tendrils of wire began sprouting from Vox’s body, as well as dangling from the ceiling, poised to attack. “Somebody should’ve taught you some manners on property.”

“We’re in Hell, genius,” Vox growled back. There was an almost ecstatic look in his eyes, but his voice sounded rushed and frantic. “I know you’re old, but come on! How do you forget that?”

Alastor didn’t grace Vox with a response, an inky black spear of shadow shooting from the pool that had been forming underneath Alastor’s feet. It stabbed into Vox’s leg, who couldn’t react in time, but he stood his ground still and threw his own wave of tendrils at Alastor in return. Alastor was quick to move out of the way of the piercing wire, but he wasn’t able to avoid the three that came from above and wrapped around his torso, lifting him nearly a foot off the ground. His red eyes were steadfast of Vox, and he didn’t bother to struggle against the wire. Vox brought him closer, face inches away from Alastor’s own.

“Somebody should’ve taught you about knowing your place! You outdated–” Vox had let his guard down, if only for a moment, and Alastor took that chance. His arm surged forward and through Vox’s face, shattering the glass display. The screen immediately went black, save for the flashes of glitching display lights as the sound of his voice was cut short, replaced by unintelligible buzzing and zapping. Alastor withdrew his hand, bleeding lightly from the glass and metal, and quickly caught his balance when the wires around his torso slackened, dropping him.

Alastor easily stepped to the side as Vox’s twitching body fell to its knees and then forward, the flat screen slamming into the ground with an almost comical slap. The radio demon looked down at it for a few seconds, the corners of his smile curling in a displeased sneer. He truly wanted to avoid getting physical. Vox wasn’t dead, Alastor knew better than to get his hopes up, but his ego would certainly be bruised.

His attention was drawn away from the body, still jerking and sparking, when he heard you softly call for him. He turned on his heel, positioning his hands over his cane to lean and look down at you. You were looking up at him, picking yourself up from the sticky club floor to sit on your knees. He couldn’t keep his eyes from lingering over your haggard appearance, especially the raw, blistering skin of your wrists.

Maybe it was how pitiful you looked, peering up at him like an abandoned kitten, your eyes glazed with a mixture of tears and exhaustion, but something in Alastor urged him to swoop down and hold you in his arms. He was able to fight himself for just a brief moment, but the overwhelming sensation of relief eventually got the best of him.

A cautious step forward, an uncertain glance over your expression, another step, pause… before he finally knelt down in front of you. He looked into your eyes, searching—for what he didn’t really know—before his arms slowly slid under yours, wrapping against the dip of your waist and gently pulling you towards himself. For now he was acting without much thought, doing something he never thought himself capable of. And, strangely enough, you reciprocated the gesture. Why was his heart swelling so much as he felt you tying your own arms around his neck? 

It was silent for some time, the club long abandoned from the confrontation with the TV demon. The tender embrace the two of you shared in a rather unconventional place was likely going to be brushed under the rug, forced to be forgotten; you both knew this fact, so maybe that’s why Alastor was letting it draw on for so long. He himself didn’t understand why he enjoyed the feeling.

“Thank you,” you started slowly, afraid to break the silence. You worried that calling attention back to reality would make Alastor shove you away and walk you home like nothing happened. When he made to move to do so, you continued. “For… saving me. I really appreciate it.”

“I couldn’t leave you in the hands of that pompous Overlord,” Alastor responded matter-of-factly. Though, you did notice the sudden lack of radio ambience in his voice. You bit back the thought of making any sort of joke about him actually caring about you—now was definitely an extremely inappropriate time for that. Maybe later.

You pulled away from the embrace slightly, making eye contact with the radio demon, your faces inches apart. You saw something in those red eyes that looked back at you, a spark of some desire that you wouldn’t dare name in front of him. You would be lying if you didn’t feel the same, too. 

When had you fallen for this guy? This overimposing jerk that manipulated you into selling your soul to him to throw you around like a doll? And why? Maybe him actually pulling his weight in your deal helped you finally realize your unknown attachment to him.

In your thoughts, you failed to realize how the proximity of your faces had gotten smaller and smaller, and you were only jerked back to the present when you felt the lightest touch of his lips against yours. In shock, you had opened your eyes, but quickly closed them when you realized what was happening. 

What felt like ages was really only a couple seconds, which was the capacity Alastor could handle. He pulled himself away, and you didn’t fail to see the hue of red that heated his face, though it was light. He cleared his throat and pressed his lips into a thin line, before he composed himself into his usual happy smile.

“A siren, I see!” He joked, trying to play himself cool as he looked down at his chest to fix his bowtie. “That wasn’t part of our deal.”

You flashed him a coy grin, unwrapping yourself from the hug and struggling to your feet. He gingerly held your hand in his so you wouldn’t fall, and let you lean against him. Falling from that wire grabbing you had evidently caused your ankle to sprain, and you were just now realizing after the adrenaline had left your system. You looked up at him playfully.

“Surely contracts can be changed.”

Alastor hummed in response, looking forward to not meet your eyes. That wasn’t a no, though.

part i part ii

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taglist

@enbytwink@wonderlife974@cannibalcoyote@reigenmagnet@tsukilover11@sophiasrant@bby-clowns@amurtan@sleepykittycx@radical-bunny@kimkimmm2411@mihuntress@lunaria1@spirlimpo@poppingaround@scrumpdidlyuptious@sammyaftxn@quinnofthevoid@fabii275@abbiedail@tuhlollo@venom-laced-words @littledolly2345 @mommmysstuff @lvnalxve @mo-0-o

[ashipiko]

ATLAN TREIN - SCHOOL-SIDE STAYCATION!

SUMMON LINE: Ugh…! That wasn’t fair! My hair was blocking my view! Great, now I’m soaked…

additional voicelines below!

GROOVY: Haha— Hahaha! Ah… For some reason, I’m not really that upset about getting this wet…

SET TO HOME SCREEN: A sunny day, hm? At least there’s shade at this extravaganza.

HOME IDLE 1: Usually I don’t treat myself to… well, treats all that often, but Niko’s pawpsicles are sort of addicting. If I end up being a regular, I’ll be absolutely ashamed.

HOME IDLE 2: Hehe. Being surrounded by this many people sure is entertaining… You think I didn’t see that embarrassing thing that just now happened? Don’t worry, I did.

HOME IDLE 3: I do not scream like a girl, shut it—! It’s because whoever’s throwing these water balloons is filling them with ice cold water… And why am I the only one being hit with them?!

HOME IDLE LOGIN: I’ve been looking for you, you know! Gee, I swear all the other people here heard me before you. Learn to keep your ears open, okay?

HOME IDLE GROOVY: Brr… Why is it so cold in the shade now?! …Um— e-excuse me, would you happen to have a towel…?

HOME TAP 1: Thank the Seven I learnt how to conjure water-proof eyeshadow. Otherwise, I’d have to run back to Pomefiore every minute! I’m looking at the first years. Ugh.

HOME TAP 2: …! Wait, Uncle is here?! H-Hide me! I don’t need him reporting back to mother that I’m this disheveled right now!

HOME TAP 3: I always knew Niko as a shady salesman, but… I can actually hold a conversation with him! — That doesn’t mean that he’s the best option here, though.

HOME TAP 4: Doing karaoke like this reminds me of my older cousin. You might know her as one of Mr. Trein’s daughters. She was always fun to sing with. Even with all the noise complaints we got… What was that all about?

HOME TAP 5: Bubbles are so cute! But why are they so darn hard to make?! Augh, I’m so tired of watching them pop away before they even form!

HOME TAP GROOVY: Frankly, I don’t really know why Ashi recruited me for this. But.. I guess I’ll have to give her a heartfelt thanks soon for this experience.

-

JOIN THE EVENT!

[smilesrobotlover]

Chapter 2- The Upheaval

First

AO3

Summary: it’s been three years since Calamity Ganon attacked Hyrule, and everyone was recovering well from it. Until the strange substance gloom appeared, making people sick when they touched it. Wanting to find answers, Zelda and the champions went beneath the castle against her father’s wishes to try to solve the problem. Meanwhile, the King of Hyrule hopes to use Impa’s help in interrogating master Kohga about the gloom, despite the Yiga leader knowing very little about it. Little did they all know, that a great threat was brewing beneath Hyrule castle, waiting for a seal to break.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world was bathed in golden sunlight, with bright green trees scattered across the town and the castle courtyards. It was warm, with a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves and grass, making a quiet shh sound through the air. The birds were chirping cheerily as they flew through the wind, and it overall was a beautiful day. Yet none of it calmed the unease Rhoam had lurking in his heart. He felt nauseous as he walked through the halls of the castle, his chest feeling as if it were constricted which made his breathing shallow. Sweat dripped down his forehead as a lump remained in his throat, but he made an effort in hiding his true feelings from everyone that saw him as they passed down the halls. Fortunately there weren’t a lot of maids or guards in the hallways, and he was mostly alone with his two bodyguards: a Hylian from Hateno named Ammon and a Hylian from Lurelin named Orman. But even then he didn’t let his true emotions out. He needed to be strong right now, to be an anchor and a sign of hope for his people. Especially now more than ever.

Three years. Three years have passed since the calamity, yet Hyrule was already showing signs of danger. A strange substance called gloom had appeared in the castle; it stuck to the walls, the floors, and poisoned the trees that were nearby. The gloom was only there for a month, yet it spread all the way to Castle town, wreaking havoc on the people. Zelda made an effort to research the gloom, sending out researchers to make sure it wasn’t malice. To their relief, it wasn’t, yet to their despair it was far worse than malice. Anyone who came into contact with malice would get severe burns from the substance—it was painful, but easily treatable. Gloom, however, fatigued those who touched it. It sucked all hope and life out of them, and all they could do was to lay there until the terrible feelings went away. It took weeks for the first person infected to feel well, and the hospitals were being filled quickly with patients who remained stagnant in their recovery. Many researchers, Zelda included, had theories that the substance was a strange fungi or mold, but none of its characteristics matched such things. It was becoming overwhelming, and a dreadful thought of another disaster striking their fragile and recovering kingdom was becoming too much for Rhoam. The calamity took its toll on him, and he’s surprised he didn’t suffer a heart attack during it.

He took over every responsibility he was able to during the calamity in an attempt to get Zelda to focus on awakening her power. It was the only piece they needed, therefore it was top priority. Everyday being met with scorn, stress, criticism, and fear over what would befall his kingdom.

Her kingdom.

His wife’s responsibility, soon to be his daughter’s. He’d done everything he could to make sure she still had a kingdom to inherit. But now he feared it was going to crumble at their feet with this new threat. They couldn’t handle another calamity.

And Rhoam could feel himself growing ill from the fear.

A desire to take over everything again so his daughter wouldn’t have to endure any of the stress almost overtook him, but he knew he couldn’t do it this time. Zelda was twenty now—she was capable, strong, and despite still being timid, she was a remarkable leader. He didn’t trust her back then and it nearly cost him his life. He couldn’t make that same mistake now. He couldn’t hurt her again.

Rhoam made it to his room and he nodded at his bodyguards, who understood that he wished to be left alone. They remained outside his door as he entered, ignoring the strong desire to fall onto his soft bed. Instead, he walked across the large room, opened the door to his balcony, and looked out across his kingdom, soon to be Zelda’s. He allowed his mind to go blank as he stared, Castle town almost looking like a ghost town as most of its inhabitants were either inside or moved out.

It was far too similar to the calamity.

A gentle knock came at his door, and he turned as it opened slowly. To his surprise, his daughter peeked her head through, her brows drawn together as she nervously eyed Rhoam. She rarely came into his room.

“Zelda,” he greeted, forcing a smile as he went to greet her. “And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Zelda also forced a small smile back and stepped inside. She stopped right in front of him and stood up straight as if she were a soldier awaiting orders. It hurt Rhoam’s heart to see his own daughter acting in such a way around him, but he couldn’t blame her. It was his own fault for such a dynamic happening.

“Father, I came to ask you something,” she started, her voice soft and nervous. She was going to ask him something he didn’t approve of. It was all too familiar to him. “This gloom is growing dangerous, and we need to find a way to deal with it.” she shifted slightly, her hands fidgeting with each other. “But the only way we can do that is to find out where it’s coming from.”

Rhoam let out an exasperated sigh. He knew it. “Zelda, going beneath the castle is forbidden. It has been for thousands of years.”

“I-I know, but the further we go under the castle, the more gloom that shows up.” She straightened herself again, clearly trying to appear confident. “It’s not just on the walls, but it’s in the air.”

“Then it is no place for you, my daughter,” Rhoam said simply. Even if the gloom originated from beneath the castle, he wasn’t going to let his daughter of all people explore it. She frowned slightly and sighed.

“Haven’t you ever wondered why we’re not allowed down there? Nothing from my studies answered why, none of the kings and queens before us answered why. Why must we follow their directions blindly when clearly the answer to the gloom is where it’s forbidden?”

Rhoam thought for a moment. He couldn’t blame Zelda for wanting answers; he remembered he was the same way when he first married into the family. But his wife made it very clear to not travel below the castle. He found it silly, but he knew better than to question the royal family. After a moment of thinking, he finally shook his head.

“We must look into it more before we break the most ancient rule,” he finally said, and Zelda’s frown deepened.

“We won’t have time. I have a feeling that something is going to happen. Don’t you feel it too? The air isn’t right today.”

Rhoam closed his eyes and nodded. He was too tired to argue this further. “I fear disaster will strike if we were to go down there. My decision is final, Zelda. Give it more time.”

Zelda’s glare melted away, and instead of her usual upset response to rejection, it was a resigned acceptance.

“Very well, father,” she muttered, turning away to leave the room.

“I’m sorry,” Rhoam quickly called out, wanting to ease the tension slightly, but Zelda only forced another smile. She left the room quickly and Rhoam let out a sigh, allowing himself to finally lay on the bed. The tension in his head cleared slightly as he rubbed his temples and he groaned. He hated it, he hated being king, he hated seeing Zelda look at him the way she did, he hated feeling like every action he took was a mistake, he just hated it all.

Rhoam laid there for a moment, staring at the ceiling blankly. He almost couldn’t wait for Zelda to become queen so he didn’t have to tell her “no” anymore, but he knew he needed to wait. She needed to feel ready for taking on such a tremendous responsibility unlike him when his wife died. But he felt years of his life being stripped away from the stress of it all, and he didn’t know how much longer he could take it.

A beeping sound broke him from his thoughts, and he sat up, looking for where the sound came from. He heard it again and he looked down at himself, spotting his Sheikah slate that was glowing. Since the three years, Purah and Robbie wasted no time in developing more of the slates for those of importance. They only made a few; one for Zelda, Impa, the champions, the first knight, and of course, himself. They were developing more slates for the leaders of the different towns and villages, that way they could have quick contact in case disaster struck, but production was paused to find a cure for gloom. Rhoam admittedly used to find the bits of technology that weren’t the guardians or divine beasts rather childish, but since the calamity, he grew to have a greater appreciation of all of it. Quick communication (though it was rather finicky depending on where they were) was remarkably convenient, and teleporting to the different towers across Hyrule saved days of time. The things technology was capable of doing were incredible.

He only wished it wasn’t so confusing.

Rhoam frowned at the screen as he tapped several buttons, opening the map at least twelve times before finally getting to what beeped at him in the first place. To his surprise and dread, it was a message from Impa. Her message read:

I found something at the Great Plateau. Come quickly.

He reread the short message, rubbing his head tiredly. It was a concerning message to receive from Impa. Why did she need him of all people? What did she find that required the king’s attention? He was also frustrated at how vague it was—Impa normally gave very detailed explanations in her messages, so what did she find that caused her to be so vague? He hopped off his bed, not wanting to waste anymore time. Rhoam trusted Impa, and he knew that she needed him if she requested him personally.

He left his room, giving his guards a nod and pulling out his Sheikah slate. It took a long moment until Rhoam figured out how to teleport both him and his guards to the Great Plateau, but soon they disappeared in a blue light. The feeling of his body dissipating then materializing in a new area made him far more nauseous than before, and he stumbled slightly on the tower. Orman rested his hand on his shoulder to steady him, which helped.

“I’m alright,” he muttered after his vision cleared, and he straightened his back despite the slight vertigo. He faced the Great Plateau, a place he grew all too familiar with during the calamity. Glancing down at his Sheikah slate, Rhoam opened Impa’s message again, using his pointer finger to type his own message to her.

Where are you?

His bodyguards watched amused as he fumbled with the thing, finally sending the message before letting out a sigh. The air was calm here, but he did feel the unease in the world that Zelda had mentioned. Nausea built up in him again, and he decided to sit down on the tower while he waited for Impa to respond. His guards stared for a moment, standing in front of him with their weapons in their hands as if an attack were to happen at any moment. Eventually, Orman stepped closer to the king, his spear put away.

“Are you alright, my King?” He asked, and Rhoam only waved his concern away. He was always so compassionate.

“I’m alright… I’m just tired.”

“Is it the gloom?”

Rhoam didn’t respond, but he didn’t need to. The gloom was worrying everyone after all. But still, he didn’t want to seem… vulnerable to his own guards. He was always a hardened soldier, being the first knight of Hyrule before becoming the prince consort. Yet here he was, on the verge of a breakdown.

Orman didn’t press further to Rhoam’s relief, and his Sheikah slate finally beeped in his hands. The king scrambled to open the message, excitedly reading what Impa said.

At the cabin by Owa Daim Shrine.

He let out a sigh and stood up, facing the direction to the shrine. If he recalled correctly, the shrine was on a cliff side, which then led to the cabin across the cliff. He supposed it’d be quicker to teleport there, but…

No, figuring out how to teleport would take too long, as would trying to get down from the cliffside safely. Rhoam had a paraglider on him at all times, but his guards didn’t. It would be better to walk.

“Let’s go,” he said, walking to the opening in the ground on the tower. It took a long moment to get down since they had to climb to different platforms surrounding the tower, and Rhoam made a note to have his guards carry around paragliders to make traveling easier (though Rhoam rarely traveled out of the castle). He finally landed on the ground, stretching out his sore arms with Ammon close behind. Orman took the longest, losing his patience when he finally reached the platform and opting to jump off instead of climbing. Rhoam felt his heart stop when he landed from such a height, but the tall man was perfectly fine, simply brushing himself off. He let out a relieved sigh and faced south, marching towards the cabin with his guards behind him.

The Great Plateau was a place Rhoam and his guards grew familiar with since it was where they escaped to during the calamity. Many soldiers were wounded and left behind in battles throughout the kingdom, and Rhoam, having just escaped the castle, made an effort to gather them to the Temple of Time where they could get help. The healers in the sacred place helped his soldiers, meanwhile the king traveled around the plateau, killing all monsters and guardians that threatened his men. He remembered the days staring at the castle that was overflowing with malice, with red glowing lights of guardians surrounding what was once his home, praying to Hylia that Zelda was somewhere safe. The memories from the plateau weren’t entirely pleasant since Rhoam was filled with anxiety over his kingdom and daughter, but he couldn’t help but feel strangely nostalgic as he passed by Eastern Abbey. During the hardest moment of his life, it was the first time his world was quiet, and he was alone. Sometimes he missed the quiet nights he spent in the Forest of Spirits, or the peaceful mornings on Mount Hylia, but he supposed it was the price for being King.

He only hoped Zelda would at least get those quiet moments when she became queen.

Almost on instinct, he sent a prayer to Hylia, something he did so often during the calamity. He prayed that Zelda would not have to suffer the same way he did, that she would be safe, and that she would be a powerful queen to her people. The prayer was quick, but it filled him with some peace. The goddesses did well watching over her after all.

It didn’t take long for the group to reach the cabin, and Rhoam quickly refocused his attention on the task at hand. It was silent save for the rustle of leaves on the trees, and the cabin seemed strangely empty. He walked up to the door and let out a sigh, knocking on it three times.

“Impa,” he called out, opening the door, “it’s King Rhoam, I—”

Rhoam stopped when he peeked inside the room. It was messy in the cabin, with some papers scattered about and random decorations on the table and dressers. But at the end of the table, he found a large man clad in red, with a mask covering his face.

“Kohga?” Rhoam blurted out, stepping into the room fully. Ammon quickly squeezed past Rhoam, putting himself in front of the king protectively.

“That’s Master Kohga to you, thank you very much,” the Yiga clan leader corrected, leaning against the chair casually. “About time you’d get here, you sure kept me waiting.”

Rhoam stared for a moment, blinking at him in disbelief. “You—did you send the message?”

Kohga took out a Sheikah slate, waving it around. “Yes.”

Fury bubbled within Rhoam. Of course. Goddesses of course this would happen to him. Amongst the catastrophe that is the gloom, of course something would happen that would waste his time.

“I don’t believe this,” he muttered, spinning around and leaving the cabin abruptly.

“W-wait! Your Highness–” Kohga suddenly appeared right in front of Rhoam, smoke and talismans fluttering in the king’s face. “You came all this way and now you’re gonna leave—”

“I don’t have time for your pranks, Kohga,” Rhoam snapped, “I’m going back to the castle.”

“Hold on!” Kogha put his hands on Rhoam’s shoulders to stop him from walking, but a smack from Orman’s spear made them draw back. Ammon once again put himself between the two despite being half their size, and Kohga finally backed away with an annoyed huff.

“What do you want, Kohga?” Rhoam finally asked, fury apparent in his voice. “How did you get Impa’s Sheikah slate? Did you steal it from her?”

“No no no!” Kohga denied. “I would never steal from Impa! Maybe if it was Link or someone else, yes I would, but I would never steal from Impa—”

“Then why do you have her Sheikah slate? Where is she?”

“She’s fine. She’s with her sister right now, calm down. I just needed her slate so I could message you,” Kogha poked Rhoam in the chest harshly, and the king’s glare deepened. “Y’see, I found something on this plateau that requires the king’s attention. Obviously.”

“Why didn’t you just request an audience with me?” Rhoam asked, watching as Kohga began pacing in front of him.

“Oh come on, that would’ve taken weeks! You’re a popular guy, you know that? And besides, why would anyone let me, the master of the Yiga, into the castle? Think about it,” Kohga glanced down at Ammon. “Short-stack right here would’ve gutted me alive.”

Rhoam sighed and put his hand on Ammon’s shoulder to calm him, and he stepped closer to Kohga. “Alright. What is so important that you took a classified piece of technology from my daughter’s advisor to contact me?”

Kohga was suddenly at his side, his arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder. “Well I’m glad you asked, ‘ol Rhoam-y boy.”

Rhoam pulled away and glared at him. “Don’t call me that. And stop touching me.”

Kohga ignored him and pointed back to the north. “The Forest of Spirits! That’s where I need to show you!”

Rhoam groaned, rubbing his aching head. “ And why didn’t you just ask me to meet you there?”

“Because I need to exercise my legs. Now come on, Rhoam-y boy!”

Rhoam only watched as Kohga ran ahead, who was already losing his breath.

“Are you seriously going to humor this guy?” Orman asked as he walked up next to Rhoam. The king only sighed. He knew better than to trust the Yiga; they helped save the kingdom, which couldn’t be ignored, but it didn’t erase the things they did in the past. Admittedly, he didn’t know if he could trust Kohga, but his daughter trusted him… so…

“Maybe he does have something important to show me,” Rhoam simply answered, not wanting to argue further, and he began to walk to Kohga who was panting for air. He heard his guards’ footsteps behind him, but they sounded reluctant as they crunched the dead leaves beneath them.

Rhoam made sure to keep his distance from Kohga as they walked, which wasn’t very easy seeing how the man could barely run. Though Rhoam couldn’t judge him too much, since he found himself out of breath as they walked up a few slopes.

It felt like hours until the group finally reached the Forest of Spirits, time feeling like it was being thrown away the longer they took. The more he walked, the more anxious he felt, and he couldn’t help but eye the trees around him. Kohga was rambling ahead of them, talking about walking trees, cave monsters, and Talus’s with bokoblins making camp on them. Absurd things no doubt, and Rhoam couldn’t tell if it had anything to do with what he was going to show him, but he chose to ignore him anyways. After a few minutes of walking through the woods, Rhoam finally stopped, his patience growing thin.

“Kohga, where in these woods are we headed to?”

Kohga stopped and turned around, his hand on his chest as if he were offended. “Patience Rhoam-y boy, goddesses.”

“I told you to stop calling me that—”

“A-HA!” Over there!” Kohga suddenly shouted, sprinting to the north of the plateau. Rhoam only glanced back at his guards, who gave him uncomfortable looks. The group jogged to keep up with Kohga, who went back to rambling.

“You see, I was walking around these woods… where I found a strange structure built by nature,” he panted in between breaths, turning his head back occasionally. “It’s not actually in the woods, but it’s closeby. A strange structure that may mean something important!”

It was clear that Kohga was amping up the dramatics, but Rhoam couldn’t tell if it was because the Yiga leader was just a dramatic person, or if he was being genuine. He just prayed that this wasn’t a waste of time. Kohga suddenly sprinted ahead and ran out of the trees, continuing to ramble as Rhoam pumped his legs to keep up.

“Personally I think it’s truly a piece of art, but I had to see what the king would say if he were to see it—”

Kohga abruptly stopped, and Rhoam rammed right into his back. He peeled himself away from the man, huffing as he straightened his beard. Kohga only shuffled his feet as if nothing happened, growing noticeably uncomfortable.

“Uh-oh.”

Rhoam frowned at the strange behavior Kohga was now exhibiting, and he moved to his side.

“What are you—” Rhoam began to ask, but he turned his head to see what Kohga was staring at, and dread sank into his stomach.

Gloom. Gloom that covered the cobblestones and grass in large puddles, gloom that covered the shrine, turning the ethereal blue light into a sick red, gloom that was a mist coming out of the ground around the shrine.

No.

It was spreading.

The silence was heavy as Rhoam stepped ahead, staring at the puddles of gloom that was scattered across the ground. He felt his throat close up as he got closer to one, nausea assaulting his stomach. Goddesses, it was spreading. It was no longer in Castle town, it was on the Great Plateau.

Where else had it spread? How far would it go?

“Well, this is not what I wanted to show you,” Kohga suddenly spoke up, staring at the ground around him. “This uh… wasn’t here an hour ago.”

Rhoam turned to stare at Kohga, his brows pinched together. It was spreading fast, it seemed. Goddesses…. What could he do? There wasn’t a cure from gloom poisoning, there wasn’t a way to remove the gloom, he felt… helpless.

Except…

Beneath the Castle…

Of course—of course, how could he be so foolish?

Zelda was right. It seemed the only way to deal with the gloom was to explore where it was forbidden. They needed to get down there, to find answers…. Maybe there was a way to remove the horrid gloom. Maybe there was a way to save the kingdom once again. The king found himself by the shrine, the panel flickering as gloom covered most of it. He still felt a strong sense of dread, but he had to push it away, they needed to act now.

“King Rhoam?” Orman called out. He was across the pond where Rhoam stood, with Ammon and Kohga further back. Rhoam took a deep breath and nodded at his guard, pushing the ill feelings back to make way for the motivation.

“We’re going back to the castle, and we’re going to explore deep into its depths,” he explained simply. “Zelda is right, the answer to this gloom may be down there. We cannot dawdle any longer.” He turned back to the shrine, staring at the gloom infecting it. “This gloom will spread further throughout the kingdom. We must stop it before it gets to that point.”

“Well it’s a good thing I did call for you then, huh?” Kohga called out, but Rhoam glared at him. He truthfully didn’t want to admit that whatever Kohga had planned was actually useful, and he simply turned to look at his guards.

“Let’s head back to the castle so we can—”

A sudden heave of the earth cut him off, and he fell back onto the panel of the shrine. His vision went white for a moment as his head smacked the panel, and his hand planted itself onto a gloom puddle. The strange sensation of the gloom beginning to worm its way into him caused him to flinch back, and he sat up away from the horrid substance. His head was aching worse than before, his hands felt numb, but from what he felt he wasn’t actually poisoned with gloom to his relief. When he glanced to see if the others were alright, he saw that Kohga was still standing, though looking confused, while his guards were on the ground. Rhoam attempted to scramble to his feet, but the earth heaved again, this time shaking violently. Dust flew into his eyes, immediately blinding him, and he covered his face with his sleeve. The earth roared around him, the sound of shaking trees, rocks, and the shrine flooding his ears, so much so he could barely hear his guards shouting for him. The king grabbed onto the shrine behind him, pulling himself up, but his hand once again touched the gloom covering the shrine. Dread clenched his heart, and he pulled away, only to fall back to the ground. He looked up again to see his guards sprawled out on the ground, Kohga missing, and rocks falling out of the sky.

“Oh goddesses,” he prayed, watching in horror as he spotted figures of islands in the clouds appearing as rocks fell from them, being trailed by a mysterious green light. Many of the rocks fell around them, which made the shaking worse for them. They were unsafe here and they needed to get away. Somehow.

“A-Ammon! Orman!” He called out, scrambling to his feet so he could meet with his guards. “We need to get out of h—”

Before he could finish, a loud crack from the ground interrupted him, and the ground suddenly gave way. Rhoam could only gasp as he fell backwards, plunging into darkness, with the light of the world growing smaller and smaller.

[claiestve]

𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 ꨄ Elias

˜”* ❝𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙄 𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙚 𝙞𝙛 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙞𝙣'𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙮𝙤𝙪.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ꜰɪɢᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴀʀᴇ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

“Don’t get too stressed, baby. You won’t get it on your first try and that’s okay.” Your– Elias tried to calm you down. You were riled up because of a new game Elias wanted to show you.

It was a familiar scene, you were sitting on Elias’ lap with a determined look at the screen while he had his arms around you. You two always did this whether it was the controller in your hands or his while you’d watch. 

Even though nothing was new this time (besides the game), you felt different. Normally, you thought nothing of this. You were so used to being close with him but this time it felt weird. It felt strange to be so close when there wasn’t a label. 

“Hey, why’d you stop moving?” Elias’s voice brought you back from your thoughts. With a sigh, you gently placed the controller on the desk and peeled his arms from your waist, needing a moment to sort through the sudden mix of emotions swirling inside you.

“Can we talk?” Your voice carried a nervous undertone as you shifted slightly, creating a bit of distance between you and Elias. The intimacy that once felt comforting now seemed to complicate things. You had to address it, even if it meant risking the ease of your current dynamic.

Elias looked at you, concern flickering in his eyes as he nodded. "Yeah, what’s up?"

You glanced down briefly, gathering your thoughts. The weight of your uncertainty pressed on your chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment. Slowly, you met his gaze again, determined yet vulnerable. Taking a deep breath, you tried to find the right words.

“What are we, Elias?”

A question you knew both of you were avoiding. It was so evident that he didn’t want to talk about it and you knew why. He was hurt in the past but you needed to know where your ‘relationship’ was headed. 

You paused, gathering your thoughts before continuing. "I love spending time with you, you know that. But lately, I've been... confused. So confused. I don't know where we stand, Elias. We act like a couple but we don’t say that we are."

He sighed through the thick atmosphere, “I knew it was a matter of time before we would have this conversation. I want to be with you, baby, I really do. I think the idea of committing to another relationship– like officially just scared me.”

Your body loosened and you leaned back into him, “Oh thank God.”

His arms found their way back around you, a mixture of comfort and reassurance. The atmosphere cleared itself as he kissed your head. 

“We’re together, baby, okay? I’m your starboy and you’re my barista.”

“Damn right.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

was up rewriting this cuz i kept hating the finished product but we're good now 😭 ughgghugguhguhghgughghughuughg they're so cute

rip elias you would've loved boyfriend by ariana grande ♡

[the-slasher-files]

WORKING HARD OR HARDLY WORKING

JOHN "SOAP" MACTAVISH

A smutty fic totally inspired by a friend who said he was hungry and wanted to leave work so he could eat pussy lol... and Mr Soap is the man with that energy. Fem reader with female anatomy... enjoy🤍🔪

MASTERLIST

A typical rainy UK day had passed you by. Johnny was home from deployment, but he wasn't completely yours, and he never would be. It was something you had accepted in the early stages of a playful, blossoming relationship. The army was his North Star and had melted into the very fibre of his being. Mundane but beautiful, Johnny had risen before the songbirds, brushed his teeth, and swapped the sleep shorts for boxers and his fatigues. Lazily stumbling through the dim light of your bedroom, placing a soft kiss on your temple and headed out to the base.

You would be lying if you had said that the work and life balance did not frustrate you, but he made up for every little moment when Johnny was home. Today was no different.

The clicking of typing and shuffling of papers filled your small office room within your townhouse. Voices over patchy computer microphones faded in and out as your team went over the last quarter of reports and statistics.

"May through June was our best..."

Your manager's voice dragged on as you tapped your pen against the pages of your lined notebook, pursing your lips and watching your bored coworkers upon your screen. That was until you nearly screamed, catching movement behind you on your camera before whipping around with your heart in your throat and wide eyes. It was just your fucking handsome boyfriend making you almost have a heart attack.

"Jesus Christ, John!" You whisper yelled at the scot before quickly muting your mic and shutting your camera.

Normally, the warm and playful energy would be beaming within your space, however, Johnny seemed oddly preoccupied. "Lass, I just..." A frustrated sigh passed his lips, "Had to come home to ya,"

"Is—are you okay?" There was an instant pull of worry on your features, about to stand from your office chair, "Johnny, what's wrong?"

Large hands, gently kept you seated and knelt on the fluffy rug beneath you. Furrowing your brow in concern, the meeting was completely fallen on deaf ears as you cupped his strong jaw, searching for an answer on Johnny's tanned face.

"I needed you" He gruffed out, lust coating each word.

Finally, he gazed up at you with his signature smile and calloused hands smoothing up your thighs.

"Fuckin—" You breathlessly laughed, the worry and concern melting away in his azure eyes.

"I'm hungry" Johnny groaned, thick fingers needing your hips slowly and bowing to kiss each knee.

"Sweetheart, I'm in a meeting right now, but there are leftovers in—"

"No, baby." There was a deepness in his chest when he replied, a tingle sparking within your spine at it. Rough yet skillful fingers almost pulled off the button of your trousers. "I'm hungry for you,"

With a call of his name on your lips, you protested but lifted your hips anyway, allowing your pants to be pulled off and tossed across the floor. Exposed only in your black lace underwear and button-down blouse, your face flushed and breath caught. Each kiss the scot had placed on your soft skin from ankle to thigh lit you on fire. Wetness growing fast as you squirmed beneath his wildfire touch.

"Y/n? ... Y/n?"

You froze at your manager's voice and Johnny just chuckled between your legs, "Continue your meetin' darling"

Cursing under your breath, you turned on your camera and microphone, "Sorry... um, my connection went out for a few m-minutes"

"That's alright, let's review the new topics f—"

"Such pretty little lace" John muttered against your hot core, lips sucking and kisses on the sticky fabric.

Trying to desperately compose yourself, face red and a hand gripping your pen with white knuckles, you flinched once his hot tongue laved across the clinging lace. Nudging your clit softly, those sea blue eyes met yours seeing the struggle, want, need and anger swirling through. He couldn't get enough. Spanking your cunt lightly with a rapid succession, Johnny motioned his head to your computer as your coworker as you question about something you were lost on.

Flying your eyes to the screen, there were puzzling looks, some just zoned out and others awaiting your response. "Sorry, my, um, dog is annoying me," you placed emphasis on the word dog, glancing down quickly to see John's squinted expression. This earned you a gentle warning bite to your clit, wanting to jump back but his hands held you still.

"To answer your question, I have been working closely on this with..." You fought on against the assault of your partner down below, voice professional in placid answers.

Only he could notice the dips and croons within your voice, as he basically spoke directly to your pussy in hushes mumbles, "such a sweet, wet cunt... a needy girl... look how wet she's getting as she tries to focus.."

It was manageable with a steel, stubborn focus you had fortunately been born with, but those walls were crumbling fast. There was a click of a knife, cool metal faster than you could realize and your panties were gone. Hot swipes of his wide tongue made you grip the brown fluffy Mohawk on top of your man's head, fingers tangling within it, reminding you to cut his hair after he ate you alive. Catching your bottom lip to hide a whine, it only made Johnny work faster like a man starved.

The hot magma licked inside the pit of your stomach, managing to reach foreward to mute your mic once the direction of the meeting was turned upon your coworkers, you couldn't help but give out the moan. Needy and wanton, leaning back in your chair, your hips rolled against against his face feeling rough stubble, hot saliva and your own juices now pooling underneath you.

"Fuck, hen... Christ you taste so good" Johnny hummed, the deep vibrations of his voice only made it harder to look normal on your Webcam. "Couldn't stop thinking about this pretty little cunt. Begging me to come home and fuck you..."

"John, J-John" Sweetly, you begged for it feeling so close yet so far in your pleasure.

Bringing the hand that held your pen up to your mouth, chewing on the plastic, hoping you didn't look too suspicious, but in the same breath your shits to give was dwindling. A deep rumble of a groan shot through him, lapping up every single drop of you as he plunged in a finger.

"Oh my god, baby, please" Johnny added a second finger quickly, making you gasp and twist. Your heel digging into the wide plans of muscle that was his back.

He pulled back with a string connecting you two, "Well would you look at this greedy little girl, huh?... Fucking needy angel,"

Flushed, hot cheeks were visible now to your team, along with the obvious wiggles, and you begged this fucking meeting to just be over. John's fingers curled inside you and his skilled lips sucked on your clit, feeling just how close you were it made him chuckle.

"Well, that concludes our meeting fo—"

Instantly, John slammed down your laptop, standing in front of you. Crashing his lips to yours, you grappled against him. Thick muscle flexing under your touch and his fingers pumped faster, noises of your slick, squelched sloppily as your end came strongly inside you. Moaning his name out as his tongue fucked your mouth, the effect of your orgasm splashed his large hand, bringing you slowly down from your high.

"Fucking missed you today" Johnny's accent was heavier with lust, drawing out his fingers to bring them to his own mouth and humming at the taste of you.

"I'm gonna need a good explanation in the next metting." You smiled, breathing heavy.

"It was just your dog" He beemed back, leaning down and laughing against your lips in bliss.

"I need to buy you a collar"

"I'm not opposed to that"

[fraternum-momentum]

Hey! I love your art!!! Tho, I was wondering if you could tag your ocs names cause I’m new but I’m really interested in your ocs and want to learn more about them :)

It’s okay if you can’t tho! Hope you have a great day

YOOO HELLO welcome to the blog :D i hope you enjoy your stay here and thank you !! i finally finally gave some of them names so I can make tags, that's mainly why it took so long to answer this 😭

Azalea, Melanie, :o), MC, Gabriel, Nigel, Kian, Theo.

(the actual tags are also in the tags of this post)

Here's some contextual and random facts about them lolol:

Azalea and Melanie are characters of a webcomic I'm making ! It's just a little passion project that I'm slowly working on. (emphasis on slowly)

Theo is just a nickname. His actual name is Theodore. MC's name is still TBD.

They're also gonna be in a comic thing :D but more episodic and slice of life-y instead of an overarching plot.

Kian makes pipe bombs in his basement.

Kian is based on a rock I got on a random beach. I took a picture of it and put a bunch of stickers and gave it a personality a few years ago bc I thought it would be cute 💀 I have other rocks that still needs to be gijinka-fied LMAO (my fave is this one beach glass named Kelsey)

I was debating on naming the jester clown guy JJ but i decided against it, it's cute but ehh idk.. I might change my mind on it if I can't think of anything.

Kian and friends + the jester guy + that one teeth guy that I didn't include here (whoops) are mostly just one-offs and don't really have an ongoing story. I made them mostly cause I wanted to design a cool looking character. Maybe I'll do smthn with the rock friends but I don't really have any ideas :P

Nigel and Gabriel are part of this western cowboy universe thing I'm doing on the side. A lot of wonderful people have made ocs for it :DD !!!

make of that what you will 👼

Gabriel has a twin sister named Mica, who also helps around their church.

Nigel is just an amalgamation of the kinks i like (that will not b disclosed !!!!!). Cause I thought 'hey, why don't I make a blorbo that has all my kinks that would b awesome ahaha' and look at me now.

Also BTW i know Nigel is technically a cop but he's more of a classic cowboy than an actual police officer. I added that random fact just for the cowboy³ joke. ACAB.

[ickysmelly]

hlvrai but make it mlp 5/5

VERY big ty to @no0t2 for the idea of vampire bat Bubby

[floydleart]

Just wanted to say I've been a yogscast fan since the very beginning of shadow if israphel and anyway I've recently rejoined the tumblr Fandom after a long hiatus and thank you so much for all your amazing art are rekindling my love for some of my first ever ships

SOI is the best (also tysm <33333)